El mused aloud into the warm, deserted air of her darkened maze: "You, my greedy little friend, will have to wait until we can take that fine man onourterms. There's some warm oil awaiting us in our chamber that I may use to ease your needs for now, but only if you cease your incessant complaining."
6
JUNE 1826
PERCY'S BERKLEY SQUARE TOWNHOUSE
"Ow--." Percy obediently stuck his chin out but jerked at each application of good Irish whisky onto the nasty knife scratch at his throat.
"That's what you get for sneaking into a she-lion's den." His valet, James, was having none of the duke's complaints. "What were you thinking? Your Grace," he added as an afterthought. "A peer of the realm slinking about a dangerous woman's estate and expecting...what? You'd catch her at kidnapping small children and having them served for supper?"
James had been his father's valet before serving him, and the vision of Percy as a small, naughty boy who needed to be occasionally checked seemed never to leave the man's sense of duty.
Percy was tempted to try a raised eyebrow to intimidate the frail, elderly man into silence, but that was where he'd honed his own favorite facial expression - observing James looking down on just about everyone but Percy's father.
When James finally stopped fussing, he stepped back to survey his work, and launched into what passed for a piece of his mind. "I am fully aware, Your Grace, of the gravity of your duties, but I feel I would be remiss if I didn't impart a bit of my own hard won wisdom concerning the fair sex, since your own father - God rest his soul - isn't here to counsel you."
At that pronouncement, Percy couldn't help launching into a high arched brow. This time, a slight tic seemed to accompany his familiar facial retreat to the moral high ground.
He put out a hand to forestall any embarrassing advice.
However, James forged on as if Percy weren't there. "Women...simply need to believe they are loved. You have to actually tell them out loud. It doesn't matter if you think they shouldknowthat you love them." He began an artful arrangement of Percy's cravat to hide the evidence of his unfortunate clash with Eleanor's knife the night before.
Percy sighed. He prayed the gods the older man wasn't going to whinge on and on with pithy advice about women. Besides, all of the women of Percy's acquaintance bore little to no resemblance to the towering, terrifying force that Eleanor had become. He began to wonder if Aikers had embroidered, or edited, the facts surrounding where she'd been in all the intervening years since they'd both been little more than children in Combe Down.
James tottered over to the wardrobe and brought out a flawless black wool jacket, Percy's favored attire for jaunts to Westminster. He snatched the jacket away from the elderly man, unable to stand any more fussing.
"I'm off," he announced, to no one in particular, and raced down the steps to the cavernous marble-floored entry hallway only to pull up short at the sight of his niece Alice standing firmly in his path, an accusing glare in her soulful, large dark eyes.
"What?" He hated the sound of his own harsh voice, but, dammit, he needed to get out of his hellish house full of family responsibility and attend his responsibility at Lords. At least, he might accomplishsomethingthere.
"You promised you'd take me for a drive along Rotten Row."
Percy cringed with guilt. His determination to get something done and drum the memories of his vicious encounter with Eleanor out of his mind had driven all sane thought from him. He'd totally forgotten it was his responsibility to help his niece overcome the scandal that had accompanied her first Season. Not many debutantes, let alone members of a ducal family, had to contend with a shooting in the first few weeks of their coming out.
"Alice," he started reasonably. "You really don't want to play out this charade this year, do you?"
A sly smile quirked at her mouth. "That depends," she said, barely above a whisper.
"On what?" Percy was intrigued.
"On whether or not you'll allow me to visit the Perriton family's estate. After all, Cordelia is nearly family, and I really would love to see their conservatory. Sinjin says he's managed to cultivate two varieties of pineapple. Her mother and sister will be there, so I'll be properly chaperoned. Please, Uncle Percy? Please, please?"
He stared heavenward as if seeking inspiration and then realized a sad truth. He was a damned duke, and his little rag-tag bits of family were his responsibility to keep safe...and to love.
"Only if I receive written confirmation from the Perritons that you will be chaperoned at all times." He realized with a sudden start Alice was wise beyond her years. She was giving all of them a convenient out. Perhaps some time away from London and tonnish gossip would be just the thing to fade her spectacularly failed Season and the details thereof. She was, after all, very young and had more seasons to make her mark in the husband free-for-all.
He shuddered inwardly at what else she might get up to in subsequent years. Privately, he was proud of the gel for her level-headedness in the face of unspeakable danger. Her facility with weapons of destruction was a bit troubling, but he was grateful she'd been able to hold her own in the farce perpetrated by young Ravenwood.
He tried not to flinch when Alice flung herself at his shoulders and hugged him tightly. "I promise I won't get into any trouble at all. You'll see." With that, she raced off toward the family sitting room, presumably to send a note round to Daedalus's terrifyingly clever fiancee Cordelia so that they could continue their plotting.
Alice reminded him of one of the colts in his vast stables - all legs and arms she'd yet to grow into fully. He was not used to dealing with children, and at sixteen, Alice was closer to the nursery than a wedding night. He didn't know what in the hell his brother-in-law had been thinking flinging the child into the ton's vicious marriage mart already.
Lord Breadmore had simply wanted Alice out of his house and his life, so Percy had stepped in and obliged his late sister's husband. When Cordelia and Daedalus married, no doubt they would settle beneath his roof as well as soon as the children started coming. God knows the Chelmsford entailment encompassed enough properties and land throughout England that they could all live in harmony without ever encountering each other, if they wished.
* * *
By the timePercy made it down from his own front stoop, his carriage was already waiting. His coachman tipped his hat in acknowledgement from his high perch, and his footman held open the carriage door.
