Page 47 of How to Ruin a Duke
“I always consider facts.”
The food arrived, smelling divine and requiring a hiatus in the skirmishing.Thaddeus’s objective mattered to him—he would secure her ladyship’s promise to stop publishing satire aimed at him or his family—but good English beef was not to be ignored.
Lady Edith ate sparingly of the meat, and only half of her potato.She added both milk and sugar to her tea and drank two cups in quick succession.When she’d poured her third cup of tea, she sat back.Her cheeks had acquired a bit of color and the battle light was back in her eye.
“We should order a sweet,” Thaddeus said, which was inane of him, but he did not care to resume hostilities quite so soon.Lady Edith had suggested a contradiction—literary revenue and straightened circumstances—and she had a point.
Maybe.
“I have eaten all I can manage for now,” she replied.“The belly loses the habit of digesting substantial meals.”
Two slices of bread, half a potato and a few bites of beef was not a substantial meal.“Then I will order a sweet, because I am an arrogant, ungentlemanly buffoon with the appetite of a mastodon.”
“Suit yourself.”She gestured with her teaspoon.As you always do.
Splendid.She could now insult him without even speaking.
“If you didn’t write the blasted, blighted book, who did?”And since when was alliteration contagious?
“Let’s see….”She peered into the teapot.“Your butler knows every secret associated with your entire family back for at least five generations and he’s nearing retirement.Your mother is at the end of her patience with both of her sons for different reasons, and she’s quite well read.Maybe she thought to shame you into holy matrimony.Your cousin Antigone is angry with you because you would not approve her match to that fortune-hunting rake, Sir Prancing Ninny.”
Sir Prendergast Nanceforth.“I’d forgotten about that.”
“Last year, you were rumored to be considering a marquess’s daughter for your duchess, but decided not to offer for her when she turned out to have a fondness for wagering.She might not be your greatest admirer.”
“One wagering fool in the family is one too many.”Thaddeus had forgotten about the marquess’s daughter too.
“You don’t want to ruin me.Now you can ruin her instead.”
“I don’t have time to ruin you for any but the most pressing reasons,” Thaddeus said, motioning to the serving maid.He ordered lemon cake with orange glaze and fresh raspberries—two servings.
Lady Edith poured herself the last of the tea, though it had to be cold by now.“I told you I haven’t room for any more food.”
“Fear not,” Thaddeus replied, starting on the lady’s pint.“Nothing goes to waste when a mastodon sits down to dine.I not only don’t have time to ruin you for my own pleasure, the undertaking would be inefficient.”
More milk and sugar went into her ladyship’s teacup.“The horror of an inefficient duke boggles and bewilders the imagination.”
“The book has been selling for the past month,” Thaddeus went on.“The damage has been done.If I were to ruin you now simply for having written the dratted thing, that would be an act of revenge, and revenge on a woman for a jest in poor taste would not reflect well on me.”Especially not revenge that sat about for a month re-reading the damned book and pondering options.
“So the ducal arrogance will spare me from ruination.My relief beggars description, especially considering Idid not write that wretched book.I could not have written it.”
The maid brought the dessert to the table, handsome portions liberally topped with fresh fruit and preserves.She set down one bowl before her ladyship, the other before Thaddeus.
“Try a bite,” he said.“I’ll eat what you don’t finish.”He expected a lecture about ignoring her wishes and wants.
Instead, the lady picked up her fork and speared a fat red raspberry.
“Why should I eliminate you as a potential author of the book?”he asked.
She put the single berry into her mouth.“I miss fresh fruit.I miss it more than strong tea.”She ducked her head and speared another berry.
Her admission was troubling.Irksome.A distraction, possibly.“Why could you not have writtenHow to Ruin a Duke?You’ve a lady’s education, you observed my family at close quarters for two years, and likely heard all sorts of tales from the staff.My mother and Lord Jeremiah have also been known to spin the occasional entertaining bit of family lore.Am I to believe ladylike sensibilities alone stopped you from airing my linen in exchange for a small fortune?”
She took a bite of cake this time, dabbing it in the preserves.“Of course not.If I’d been ingenious enough to write such a tale, we’d be having a very different conversation in a very different venue, but I wasn’t.To make public what should remain private is an act of desperation and the thought of debtor’s prison should make the stoutest soul tremble.I wish I had written that book.If you were foolish enough to race from London to Brighton under a quarter moon, then the world deserves to be entertained by your foolishness.”
Nobody had ever referred to Thaddeus as foolish before.He did not care for the term, and yet, that race had been stupid beyond all description, despite the fact that he’d won by a five-minute margin.
And Lady Edith was also correct that debtor’s prison was worse than a death sentence.While the debtor slowly rotted from the inevitable ravages of consumption, he or she was charged exorbitant sums for basic necessities.Between disease and despair, a sad end was inevitable.
