Page 94 of Duke of Destruction
If this had been part of his apology, Catherine decided she was going to let something else hit her on the head and finish the job. It would likely be less uncomfortable than living a lifetime knowing that this man had spent days at her bedside out ofdutyandobligation.
And if Percy was here, then where the hell was her family?
On the heels of this thought came another, more urgent one.
“Is Ariadne all right?” she demanded.
“She’s fine,” Percy said soothingly. “Worried about you, but otherwise fine. Crompton never got near her.”
Thank God,she thought.The vile things that he suggested…
“Your sister by marriage has assured me that she stopped your brother from actually murdering the earl, though, to tell you the truth, she seemed rather conflicted about that decision.”
This made Catherine smile faintly. Dear Helen.
“From what I’ve been able to glean, you have a cousin who is connected to a gambling den? In any case, your brother has been working out his worry by making sure that every debt Crompton had ever owed is being called in at once. Crompton has fled.”
“Right,” she said, thinking through all this. It was better that Xander didn’t murder anyone. That would have caused problems.Ruiningsomeone, though, that seemed more than fair considering what Crompton had intended for Catherine’s dear, sweet little sister.
So the villain had been dispatched. Her family was safe from attack or arrest.
Which left her with the man before her.
“Right,” she said again. “In that case—Percy, what are you doing here?”
For all this time, he had been looking at her intensely, like he worried she might suddenly slip back into her dayslong slumber if he dared look away. Now, though, his eyes darted nervously about the room, as though he sought escape.
“I—I’m not sure we ought to talk about this yet,” he said. “You haven’t eaten; you need to rest.”
“I just rested for two days,” she told him crossly.
There it was, alas—the hurt. Apparently, she did have room in her for the pain, after all. And if he was going to tell her what she already knew… Well, if that was going to happen, she just wanted to get it over with. There was no point prolonging her discomfort.
It was like removing a splinter. Either you could wait for it to work itself out, letting the pain lurk over weeks, and risk infection—or you could get some hot water, an embroidery needle, and get things sorted yourself.
“Catherine,” he said, and suddenly she was so tired of hearing him say her name. Didn’t he know that it was like a cut every time? Small, yes, but enough of them could kill you.
And she’d already been almost killed once this week, thank you very much.
“Percy, just—” She squeezed her eyes shut to gather her resolve, then opened them again. “Please. I just need whatever answersyou have to give. And then this canend. You can befree.So please. Just tell me.”
He paused for a very long moment. The seconds trickled by, each one an agony.
“I don’t want this to end, Catherine,” he said at long last, looking at her directly. “I don’t want to ever be free from you. Not ever.”
CHAPTER 23
If Percy had thought that his declaration would be met with warmth, happiness, or really any positive emotion whatsoever, he was destined for disappointment.
“What are you talking about?” she demanded.
He had fought with Catherine a thousand times, or at least it felt like that. He knew how to battle her and win, knew how to spar with her and lose—knew, ultimately, that both were the same, because fighting with her was fightingwith her, and anything with her was perfect.
But her questions, her pleas—they were combative, because she was bold and brave and strong, even after everything she had just suffered.
But he knew her now. And so he heard the note beneath, the one that was scared.
It was the same thing he’d seen in her during that moment of cut-off admission.
