"Yes, you bloodthirsty fiends. Oh, hell, I think you broke my nose."
A moment later, a match rasped; Lisbett held up a candle, revealing Paul's sulky features. The bridge of his nose sported a large cut, and blood was leaking from one nostril onto his cravat. One eye was beginning to swell as big as an egg.
"Oh, dear." Percy bit her lip. "What in heaven's name are you doing here?"
"Before we get into explanations, would you mind fetching me a handkerchief? I'm bleeding all over the Aubusson." With a groan, her brother stumbled into the sitting room and collapsed onto the settee. He clutched his head. "Christ Almighty, the world is spinning. You may have done irreparable damage."
Crouching down next to him, Percy dabbed his nose with a piece of linen. "I am ever so sorry. How was I to know it was you?"
"I think your head must have suffered some knocks before tonight, young man." This came from Lisbett, who'd finished lighting the lamps. With her hands planted on her narrow hips, she looked down at Paul. "That can be the only explanation for your behavior. Why are you skulking in your mother's room in the middle of the night?"
Percy saw guilt flash in those eyes so like her own. And she knew.
How much did you lose this time?Helpless frustration and worry warped her insides. As she looked closely at him, she could see his bloodshot eyes, the haggard lines beneath the fresh injuries. She smelled the telltale odor upon his breath, and her throat clenched.
Oh, Paul, when will this end?
"I wasn't skulking." She wasn't fooled by her sibling's nonchalant tone. The more important the topic, the more blasé he became. "Thought the household was asleep, so I didn't bother announcing my visit. As it happens, Mama had promised to have a pocket watch of mine fixed." Paul sat up, straightening his jacket in a righteous motion. "I was looking for it when the two of you came charging in like an army of Hussars."
"Have you forgotten who you're talking to?" The housekeeper snorted. "'My eyes mightn't be what they used to be, but I can still spot a falsehood from a mile away."
"Perhaps it isyouwho has forgotten who you're talking to," Paul retorted.
Lisbett's white brows drew together.
Aghast at her brother's rudeness, Percy said, "You cannot speak to Lisbett in so disrespectful a manner. You must apologize at once, Paul."
"Like hell I will." He stood, tottering as he did so. "I'm not a boy any longer, and she's just a servant in this household, even if she's older than sin." His chin jutted upward. "I am the master of this family now, and I will not be ordered about like some dull-witted child."
The octogenarian began to roll up her sleeves. "If you act like a child, you best expect to be treated like one—"
"Lisbett, may I speak to my brother alone?" Percy gave the housekeeper a pleading look. "There are things I need to discuss with him."
"In private," Paul said in a snide tone.
Lisbett grunted. "I'll be downstairs if you need me, Miss Percy. And you, sir,"—she waved a bat in Paul's direction, and he stumbled back—"just because you've gotten too big for your boots, don't think I can't bring you down a size. Master of the manor, indeed," she muttered as she marched off. "It'd have broken your father's heart to see you acting like a fool."
Percy closed the door and turned to her brother. A stranger, in truth, for the wreck of a gentleman who stood mulishly before her bore no resemblance to Paul.
"How much this time?" she said quietly.
"I don't know what you mean—"
"I'll give you all my jewels. All my pin money. Will that cover it?"
Above the shambles of his cravat, Paul's throat worked. "Percy, I—"
"This has got to stop." Her words were firm, despite the welling of heat behind her eyes. "You are going to lose everything. Not only your fortune, but your... life." When he remained stubbornly silent, she expelled a breath and said, "No one is worth such a disgrace. Not even Rosalind Drummond. You've had your heart broken—do you think you're the only person to suffer such a fate?"
"Goddamnit, I told you never to mention that name—"
"You leave me no choice. Stop feeling so bloody sorry for yourself and listen," she said.
He shot her a livid glare.
"Rosalind married someone else. There's nothing to be done. Either you get over that fact or,"—she shook her head—"you will destroy any chance you have at happiness."
Silence stretched. "I'll never be happy again," he said.
