Page 67 of Duke of Destruction
“She has an accent?” he asked. “Your sister by marriage?”
“She does,” Catherine agreed. She really did not at all understand where this was going; she and Percy were clearly having two different conversations. “As I said, she’s from the North.”
“Didn’t she have any proper teachers?” Percy demanded. His tone was verging toward the critical, and Catherine felt her hackles rise despite her inclination to give Percy the benefit of the doubt.
If Xander had been within earshot, Percy would have already been knocked on his arse. Xander didnotstand for anyone criticizing his wife, not even by vague implication. Catherine and Helen had been forced, on no fewer than three occasions, to talk him down from threatening to sue a gossip rag into oblivion over what he perceived to be an offense against Helen.
“Her education was often interrupted,” Catherine said tersely, making her disapproval clear. “Not that it’s any of your business. Helen—Her Grace, that is—is awonderfulperson, and she makes my brother very happy, and we are lucky to have her in the family! And if you are too self-important to see that, then you are welcome to find another dancing partner.”
She stopped just shy of pulling herself out of his arms. Maybe this was because something deep inside her didn’t really believe that Percy intended to be hurtful, or maybe it was because she was upsettingly attracted to him when he was being contrary.
When he looked down at her with a faint expression of surprise, however, she knew that her first impulse had been correct.
“No! God, no. I’m sorry. I mean, with my father?—“
He was stumbling over his words. He paused, gathered himself.
“My father faced a great deal of disdain for the circumstances of his birth. I would never speak ill against someone merely because they were born with less than I had. I just…” He trailed off, something uncertain flickering in his expression. “I just didn’t know.”
Catherine had to be a terrible, terrible idiot because she found that she softened to him at once.
“Now you know,” she said.
The music was slowing, the dance winding down. Catherine’s fingers tightened unconsciously on his shoulders as the other couples stopped spinning around them. She made herself hold on less tightly.
She had to leave him now. She had to, but how could she?
What if you had one more night?The question came from deep inside her, wicked and tempting.You were doing just fine when you didn’t see him.
She hadn’t been, but that was a point of resistance for later. For now, she was struggling enough with the idea of removing her hand from his shoulder.
If you give in now,the voice said,you can go back to being good later. After. Surely you won’t encounter him by chance again. The odds are against it.
This, too, wasn’t quite true; if Percy was circulating in Society now, she would see him frequently.
But she wanted to believe, wanted to take any excuse to give in, to do what she wanted instead of what was expected of her, instead of what she knew was right and proper and responsible.
“Percy,” she said, and the moment she breathed his name, the battle was lost. She swallowed and gathered her courage. “Would you…would you meet me in the gardens?”
He stiffened. They were still close enough to one another that she could feel it easily. She braced herself for rejection. This had been too much; she’d thrown herself at him one too many times. He would be appalled by her brazenness. Coming to his room had been bad enough, but now she was in the middle of a London ballroom…
”Yes,” he said, so quietly she could barely hear him. “Yes. Steal away and meet me there at once.”
CHAPTER 17
Percy was making a huge mistake.
He knew he was making a huge mistake, but, as it turned out, that didn’t stop him from leaving the ballroom unobtrusively—easier for a gentleman than a lady—and heading toward the gardens, just as he had told Catherine he would.
He was doing something so incredibly foolish that it boggled the mind, yet his feet kept carrying him forward, because all he could think about was the way Catherine had defended her sister by marriage.
The woman from the North, with whom Xander Lightholder, the Duke of Godwin, was apparentlyappallingly in love.
A woman Catherine had called awonderful addition to the familyas she had passionately defended her.
Thinking of that conversation made a prickle of unease move through him. Not just because he’d been a total prig, and Catherine had been entirely right to scold him, but because it caused him to have worrisome thoughts.
Thoughts like,What if I was wrong about…
