Page 7 of Duke of Silver
Nothing seemed to remedy the reality of things for her right now. And neither was there any hope of society’s unfair judgement changing.
“I am here for you, Lizzy. Don’t ever forget that,” Peggy’s voice broke into her thoughts. Her younger sister gave her knee a small reassuring squeeze as she added,
“Now, have your tea before it turns cold.”
“Percy!” Alexander’s voice boomed through the foyer of his brother’s lodgings the moment he entered. His steps were quick, filled with an urgency that only deepened as he made his way toward the dining room.
“I’m oddly famished this morning. Let us have breakfast and then leave,” he added, his tone brisk, expecting his brother to be lounging somewhere, as usual.
“Your Grace,” the butler’s voice interrupted, hesitant but clear.
Alexander turned, his brow furrowing in irritation. The butler stood holding a small missive, his expression apologetic.
“His lordship asked that this be given to you upon your arrival,” the man said, extending the note.
Alexander’s heart sank. “Where is my brother?” he demanded, a cold sense of dread settling in his stomach. Percy was supposed to be here, ready to face the consequences of his actions, not leaving notes behind.
“I believe his lordship has departed on his intended journey, Your Grace,” the butler replied, his tone regretful.
“What?” Alexander tore open the letter with a sharp motion, eyes scanning the familiar handwriting, his face paling with each word.
I apologize once again for the troubles, brother. But do understand that I cannot marry. Not for anything. I hope in time that you forgive my foolishness, and that one day, all of this will be forgotten. And I implore that you make no efforts to look for me.
Alexander crumpled the letter in his fist, his breath coming in sharp bursts of fury. The silence in the foyer was shattered by his resounding curse.
“You bloody well ruined a lady, Percy. How can that be forgotten?” he shouted into the empty room, his anger echoing off the walls.
“When did he leave?” He turned to the butler, though he knew it was likely too late for any answers to matter. Still, if there was the faintest chance of catching Percy and dragging him back—by force if necessary—he had to try.
“Just before dawn, Your Grace,” the butler replied.
Another curse escaped Alexander’s lips. Percy would be far from England by now, sailing into the horizon, leaving Alexander to clean up the wreckage he’d left behind.
With a clenched jaw, Alexander whirled around and strode toward the waiting carriage. “We ride to the Dowshire residence,” he instructed the coachman, his voice cold with determination.
Upon arriving, Alexander was ushered into the drawing room. His eyes immediately swept over the company—a composed Earl, three ladies seated with varying degrees of apprehension on their faces. His mind raced. One of these women had to be Lady Elizabeth, the woman Percy had so carelessly compromised.
He bowed, though the storm inside him barely allowed for courtesy. “My lord,” he greeted the Earl, forcing his voice into something resembling politeness.
As his gaze swept the room, he took in the women. One older, clearly not the lady in question, and the two younger ones—both lovely, though it was the intensity in the blue eyes of one that immediately captured his attention. Her curtsy was graceful,elegant, and when she rose, Alexander realized he was looking into the face of Lady Elizabeth Sutton.
She was lovely, far more so than he had anticipated. Her pale complexion complemented by striking blue eyes and brown locks pinned neatly, rather than in the fripperies other women seemed to favor. She held herself with dignity, despite the tension in the air.
“And my daughter, Lady Anna Sutton,” the Earl continued, introducing the other young woman who gave a far less graceful curtsy, looking almost disinterested in the formalities.
Alexander barely registered her as he turned his attention back to Lady Elizabeth, whose gaze was now fixed on him, a flicker of hope in her eyes. Hope that he was about to crush.
“I expect the young lord will be joining us shortly?” Petunia Sutton, the matron, inquired, her gaze shifting toward the door.
Alexander’s chest tightened. He needed to tread carefully, though the truth would inevitably cause them pain.
“My brother shan’t be joining us,” Alexander said, the weight of his words hanging heavily in the room.
The atmosphere shifted as the ladies exchanged glances, and he could see the confusion begin to spread across their faces.
“Percy refuses to marry,” he said, the words sharp, cutting. “In fact, he is already aboard a ship, sailing far away from England as we speak.”
A collective gasp of shock filled the room. Lady Elizabeth’s face drained of color, the hope that had briefly flickered in her eyes extinguished in an instant.
