Page 87 of Duke of Destruction
And there was nothing she could evendowith that anger.
That thought stuck in her craw, unshakeable and immovable, long enough that she feared she would choke on it. And it was only then, when the anger felt so unbearable that she feared it might actually destroy her, that she re-examined it.
Because, no—it was true that a proper young lady couldn’t do anything about it. And even though Lady Catherine Lightholder was known quite widely for being an extraordinarily proper young lady…
Well, Catherine, the Catherine she was when the world was just watching—she wasn’t sure she quite fit the bill any longer.
And perhaps she hadn’t since she had first met Percy Egelton, the Duke of Seaton.
So. Perhaps it was time for Percy to reap what he had sown.
Yes. Yes! Drat it all, he deserved that.
“I’m going to go give him a piece of my mind,” Catherine said aloud, her tone almost wondering.
It was as though speaking it made it true. She surged to her feet, buoyed with a sudden, almost frantic energy. She stalked through the house, leaving doors gaping her wake, because she was too damned busy to close them up.
Yes. She was going to godo something about this.
“Um, Kitty? Where are you going?” Ariadne called as Catherine strode past the parlor where Ariadne was standing, talking to Helen.
“To enact justice!” Catherine called back, her steps not pausing for an instant.
“Oh,” said Ariadne, sounding uncertain over whether she should support this or not. “Um. Be careful?”
“Have fun!” Helen called, patting little Cornelia on the back, sounding entirely unconflicted.
Propriety wasstupid,Catherine decided as she pulled on her Spencer, then her overcoat. She had forgotten a bonnet, she realized, but they were all upstairs, so to hell with it. She would go outside with a bare head, like a regular harridan. Being polite was overrated. Saying what you wanted—that was where happiness truly lay, she was certain of it.
The surprised footman at the door held open the door as she approached, but he made no move to stop her. Good. Catherine feared she could not be held responsible for what she might have said if someone—let alonea man—told her what to do just then.
She stamped down the steps, surged through the gate, turned to slam it closed, and?—
—Came face to face with Percy.
He blinked at her, clearly as startled as she was, and stumbled a half step backward.
“You,”she said accusingly.
It wasn’t precisely the response she had planned…well, admittedly, she hadn’t gotten as far as planning a response. But, if she’d managed it, she would have come up with something a great deal more eloquent.
As it happened, however, she didn’t need much more. As soon as she said the single word, Percy’s face crumpled into an expression that was half shame, half pain.
She refused to be moved by this.
“What areyoudoing here?” she demanded, narrowing her gaze.
He rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. “I, ah, came to apologize.”
“Apologize!” She had been prepared to demand that he apologize, and found that she was quite put out that he had come here like this and taken the wind out of her sails. “Youshouldapologize!”
“I know,” he said miserably. “I had no right to say—to say what I said to you.”
Damn him, damn him, damn him!
“Youdidn’thave any right,” she said, hating that he had forced her into a position where she was agreeing with him when what she wanted to do was rant and rail and scream. She was so hurt and so tired of feeling hurt. None of this was supposed to happen. She was never meant tofeelthis much. “You were the one who?—”
“Catherine, wait.”
