Page 43 of Duke of Destruction
She gave him a closed-lipped smile.
“You’re right, of course,” she said.
Percy’s heart plummeted.
It was ridiculous. He was ridiculous. She was agreeing with him. That wasgood.
His voice sounded falsely chipper as he responded.
“Grand. We are in accord, then.”
Jesus Christ.Grand. We are in accord.
It was good that he didn’t plan on seeing more of Catherine—Lady Catherine;why could he not remember that—in the future. He wouldn’t be able to look her in the eye after this.
Worst of all, he couldn’t even properly regret it because it made Catherine flash him the briefestrealsmile.
“In accord,” she agreed, her tone sardonic.
She stuck out her hand to shake and, God help him, it made him smile, too.
That smile vanished the instant he let his hand touch hers.
It didn’t matter, after all, that the touch was as perfunctory as one could be. It didn’t matter that he’d shaken a hundred hands in one sitting when he met with other members of Parliament. None of it mattered, because this was Catherine, and touching her hand somehow felt as intimate as touching her face.
He could picture it so easily, the way he could use the grip to tug her forward. He could wind his hand through her hair, could tilt her head just so?—
He forced his fingers to uncurl, forced himself to pull back.
Catherine’s hand hung there for an instant longer, just long enough to make him certain that she had felt it, too.
And damn him—damn everything—if that didn’t make it even harder to walk away.
She closed her eyes, clenching them just for just a moment, and when she opened them again, he could see the mask was there. Just as he’d wanted. He could pretend if she could pretend.
“Good day, Your Grace,” she said politely.
“Good day, my lady,” he returned.
She walked away, then. And Percy didn’t feel anything. He didn’t feelanything.
He didn’t have any other choice than to make it so.
CHAPTER 12
“Ithink I’m coming down with something,” Catherine said, looking at her wan expression in the mirror.
“You?” Ariadne was openly skeptical. “You’ve never been sick a day in your life. No illness would dare.”
“Do I feel feverish?” Catherine asked. She pressed a hand to her own forehead, not that she really expected that to do anything.
Ariadne obligingly—albeit with the air of someone who was being highly put upon—put her hand to Catherine’s forehead, something Catherine had done for her younger sister countless times over the years.
The reversal made her feel even heavier. Soon enough, Ariadne would find someone to love her as she deserved—Catherine had no doubt of that. And Ari would leave, just as Jason had left, and Catherine would be left rattling around her brother’s house, anunwanted ghost, never going anywhere, trying to forget the one interesting thing that had ever happened to her.
Not that she wasdwellingor anything.
“You feel fine,” Ariadne said. “If you’re really feeling poorly, you could always skip the ball…” She trailed off, then gave Catherine her biggest, widest little sister eyes. “I would really feel so much more confident if you were there.”
