“You’re my brother and I love you for wanting to avenge me, but you are a completely thoughtless imbecile. Just admit that it was more about your ego than my honour. Give me that, at least.” Percy sat down hard, dropping his face into his hands as the enormity of the situation crashed in upon him. Henrietta stood there for a moment, then shrugged. “When you’ve thought about it, come and talk to me again.”
With that, she walked away, leaving him sitting on the cold tile of the terrace.
After he’d taken more than half an hour to collect his thoughts, Percy slipped back inside the house. First, he sought out Henrietta and asked her to inform the staff and their hosts that they were leaving, because of the scene he’d been a part of making. When that was done, he turned his attention to seeking out Miss Errington, because the two of them needed to have a very serious discussion. When he found her sulking in the library, Percy blurted out the first thing that popped into his head.
“We’re finished, Miss Errington.”
Lydia whirled to face him, her grey eyes blazing with unbridled fury.
“No, we aren’t. You might have gained what you wanted out of this deal, but I’m far from done—”
Percy stiffened, holding up a hand and cutting her off, unwilling to hear anything she had to say at this point.
“You misunderstand me, Miss Errington, so allow me to make myself perfectly clear. I am finished helping you hurt Lady Eugenia.” The effort of resisting the urge to shake her until her teeth rattled was physically painful for Percy. “You could be a truly incredible woman, but you are completely blinded by envy and ambition, and I will not be party to it any longer.”
With that, Percy Gale, the Viscount of Greywood, spun on his heel and left Miss Lydia Errington standing there with her mouth hanging open, staring in shock at his retreating back.
Although he’d rushedto Thistlewayte Hall as soon as he could after Lord Greywood had admitted to meddling in their affairs, Marco found himself turned away at the front door by a fiercely glowering butler.
“Lady Eugenia is not accepting company.”
The elderly man practically barked the words at Marco, and he got the distinct impression that the staff had been warned against allowing him in.
“May I at least leave a message for her?”
The butler stared at him, entirely unflinching.
“She informed me that she wants no messages from you, Lord D’Asti, not after the humiliation and mockery she was subjected to at the Bellingham Park house party.”
With a defeated sigh, Marco returned to his carriage. He had come during the family’s at home hours, only to be turned away. It did not matter what had occurred, or that he loved Eugenia and wanted to make things work. He had to marry and marry quickly. If Eugenia would not speak with him, he had no other options. Marco returned to Bellingham Park, and called for his staff to pack everything up – they were returning to Ashewood, leaving that very afternoon.
Once he reached his home, his heart still aching with every mile that further separated him from Lady Eugenia, and the shattered remnants of his hopes and dreams, he went straight to his study. There, he wrote an invitation to Lady Catherine Stewart and her mother, the Duchess of Elkington, to join him for a short visit before the Elkington Midsummer Ball which would be held on the Elkington estate, which lay halfway between Ashewood and Thistlewayte Hall.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
THISTLEWAYTE HALL
As Eugeniaand Susan walked out through Thistlewayte Hall’s front door, with Neville hot on their heels, on their way to the carriage which waited to convey them to the Duke of Elkington’s Midsummer Ball, they found themselves face-to-face with a seemingly chastened Lord Greywood. His sister, Lady Henrietta, was glaring at his back through narrowed eyes, her annoyance with her brother apparent in her guarded, cross-armed posture.
Susan stiffened beside Eugenia at unexpectedly seeing Lady Henrietta, then forced herself to relax. Neville reached over and pressed a soothing hand to the small of her back, but said nothing, choosing to quietly observe this exchange instead. Susan had told him that she and Lady Henrietta had put the past behind them at the house party, after all. But Lord Greywood? Susan obviously still didn’t trust the man as far as she could throw him, if her hawkish gaze and pursed lips were anything to judge by.
Lord Greywood spoke first.
“Lord Seabury, Lady Seabury, Lady Eugenia, my sister and I are on our way to visit our parents in Middlebrook, but we thought to stop here first. Could we beg a moment of your time?”
Susan, who had a sneaking suspicion that Lord Greywood had been somehow involved in making her poor friend Eugenia miserable, gave a haughty sniff.
“We are on our way to the Duke of Elkington’s Midsummer Ball. I’m sure we don’t have the time.”
“Please,” Lord Greywood pressed, wringing his hands. “Just a moment. I need to confess to a terrible wrong which I committed against Lady Eugenia.”
It was then that Lady Henrietta chose to chime in from behind him, her voice clearly indicating how she felt about her brother in that moment.
“My brother is, apparently, an easily manipulated dolt.”
Lord Greywood winced at his sister’s censure, and Neville had to cough to cover a laugh at Greywood’s expense.
Eugenia put her hand on Susan’s arm to stay any further responses from her delightfully protective friend.
