Namely, he was grinning, chuckling even. He found all this funny. For a moment, Marjorie thought he had gone mad. For there was no reasonable explanation as to how and why someone would act in such an insane manner, and then laugh about it.
“I know it’s not,” Alexander turned to her, responding breathlessly, refusing to unhand the man that was once his friend. “There is no need for you to explain yourself. It is this man who needs to do that, and we shall listen to him speak immediately.”
He suddenly pushed Percival closer against the wall, breathing right into his face angrily. Marjorie had never seen Alexander so furious, even when they were children.Perhaps, he never had something to care about this much.Now, he was defending her. Everything he was doing was for her. But she dared not hope that there was more to this. As his late father’s ward, she was unofficially his family. That meant that he was responsible for her. That responsibility included defending her honor. There was no love. At least not the kind of love she was hoping he might feel for it. It was mere responsibility that made him act this way.
“Now you shall tell everyone why you lied!” Alexander hissed, his body caging Percival’s, so he could not move an inch. Alexander would not let him. “You know as well as I do that none of what you have said is true! Marjorie has never met up with you unchaperoned. I vouch for that with my own reputation!”
His words reverberated in the room, bouncing off against the walls, only to return to those who did not hear it properly the first time. As for Percival, he remained quiet, only his devious smile revealing that he was there, present and listening to every word that was being spoken. Only he chose not to reply, which drove both Alexander and Marjory mad.
“If you continue to besmirch Marjorie’s reputation with those blasphemous lies, then you leave me with no other choice but to challenge you to a duel!” Alexander roared.
Another round of gasps spilled around the room. Once again, Marjorie’s was among those.
A duel? Goodness, no…
She did not wish Alexander to duel this man, who was obviously insane and certainly not to be trusted with any kind of a weapon. What if Alexander got hurt? Or something far worse? She dreaded to even consider that a possibility. There could be no duel. She would not allow it, whatever the repercussions might be.
“You can’t do this,” she told Alexander, shaking her head, not caring the least bit that the music had halted, and all eyes were on them. Everyone had forgotten that this was a ball and not a stage play. Their curiosities peaked as they gazed on, desperate for more.
“I will not allow this man to go unpunished for this monstrous lie,” Alexander snarled at Percival. “Speak, scoundrel!”
“I will only speak without an audience!” Percival suddenly declared.
“No!” Alexander shouted, as his grip on Percival’s collar tightened. “You will speak now! If you had the courage to lie in front of everyone, then you must have the courage to come clean in front of everyone, too!”
A few moments passed, nothing happened. Marjorie doubted that whatever drove Percival to this lunacy would be cleared in the following several minutes. The damage had already been done. Whether or not he would explain himself in front of everyone or just in Alexander’s presence was irrelevant.
“Take me outside,” Percival groaned. His smirk was gone.
“You deserve to be taken by the constables!” Alexander’s eyes tightened into two slits. But Marjorie knew it was just an empty threat. They could not arrest him for anything, nor did she wish him to be arrested. That would only cause more drama, and that was the last thing she needed.
Finally, Alexander released him, then aggressively pushed him in the direction of the front door. They were going outside. She could see with the corner of her eye that the host of the ball, Lord Nightingale had instructed the orchestra to start playing. The moment music flooded the room, a part of the drama was forgotten. The faces of the people around her untensed. Smiles appeared once more. While it was certain that this would be the talk of the town for a long time to come, Marjorie was grateful that at least the moment had passed. She was not frozen in it any longer.
When she looked around her, she could not see either Alexander or Percival again. She considered the notion of following them outside, but quickly opted against it. It would not make any difference to hear the man’s explanation. What could it be? A lapse in judgment? Jealousy? Misery? Pure hatred for someone? She could come up with several more excuses that Percival might resort to, but she had no interest in hearing any of them.
She turned around in the opposite direction and headed for her table where she had left her spencer jacket in case the evening got chilly. She could very well do without it, but she did not wish to run away as if all this were her fault.
No. If she were to leave, she would do so with her dignity intact. She would walk among those people feeling equal to them. She would not allow them to make her feel insignificant or as if she were the one to blame.
Chapter 27
Once he dragged him out into the garden, Alexander pushed Percival away from himself, as if the man were diseased. He raked his fingers through his hair. To calm himself down, to focus on what he was about to do, but it was almost impossible.
His head was booming. Everywhere he looked, he could see stars. It took all his conscious effort not to punch Percival in the face upon hearing him say those horrid things to Marjorie. Even now, he was practicing self-control for her sake. But all he truly wanted to do was make Percival eat up those very same words.
“Speak, scoundrel!” Alexander shouted. He thought he could hear voices somewhere behind them, as if several of the overly curious guests could not be prevented from following the story until the very end. He could not care less whether they had audience or not. He wanted to make it crystal clear that for some inexplicable reason, Percival was lying. Only, he could not understand why, and it was driving him mad.
“Speak, lest I make you speak!” Alexander could feel his fingers curling up into fists. They were itching to be used.
Unexpectedly, Percival bursts out into a fit of roaring laughter. The sound was so sudden and unforeseen that Alexander flinched at it. He lost the ability to speak. He was utterly shocked at the behavior Percival was showing. He was no longer his friend. The man who was standing before Alexander was a stranger, a mad one at that.
“Are you finished?” Alexander snarled, unwilling to remain patient any longer. He would give him one more chance to explain himself, then he would take more grave measures, and he would not be held accountable for the repercussions.
“Almost,” Percival nodded, still snickering. “My plan worked perfectly.” His voice returned to its normal pitch. There was not a single trace of madness in it. Alexander’s gut clenched at this sudden change. A thought occurred to him. This must be what a madman truly sounded like.
“What plan?” he demanded to know. Fear pricked up all his senses. All the hairs on his body stood on end.
“Why, revenge, of course.” He said it as if it were the most logical thing in the world.Revenge.
