Leopold’s face fell. “No?”
“No.” Percy leaned down and gave the boy a grin. “I’m a runner.”
Leopold’s eyes turned into saucers. “What—”
“That’s enough, dear.” Charlotte scooted her son over to the open door and threw Percy a scowl over her shoulder. “Thank you,Uncle Percy. Do enjoy your new title and running such a large estate.”
He waved her out the door, his mood lifting. When she’d left, he turned to Hamish. “She adores me.”
Renard came back through the door, a tart in each hand. “I thought we were picnicking. What’s the delay?”
“Have you left anything to picnic with?” Hamish shook his head. “Positively criminal how much you eat.”
“No need to ship me off to Australia just yet,” Renard said. “You’ve set your sights too low, Camine. Surely, you can do better?”
Hamish barked a laugh, but his expression was hard. “Any day, the Australians will regain their dominion and England must set her sights back on her own borders and the people suffering for the cause. I suggest you do the same.”
“Social reform?” Renard popped a mini tart into his mouth and said around the pastry, “What’s next? Workhouses? Charities?”
“For starters.”
Renard swallowed and eyed his friend contemplatively. “Become a revolutionary while I was busy winning over my duchess, have you?” Hamish nodded. “Where do I send the donations to?”
Hamish gaped. “You’ll aid me in relief efforts?”
“With my duchess’s pet projects at that forward-thinking home of hers, I must find my own call to arms or risk becoming the exact useless gentleman she once accused me of being.”
“How revolutionary ofyou.”
“I’m glad you approve, but really, I can’t stand it when she’s right.” Renard grinned. “Just, no more speeches on the public, please. If my lady makes me sit through one more of Ruskin’s lectures of bringing England into a welfare state, I may take up gathering in the streets in protest for the cause, and no speech of mine would win any sympathy.”
Hamish clapped him on the back. “You’ve grown, old friend.”
Watching the two lifelong friends discuss the ways in which their insurmountable influence and wealth could better the community, Percy knew they’d both grown, and he knew the exact two ladies to blame. He muttered as much. Was this what matrimony did to intelligent men?
Noticing their companion’s frown, both dukes offered him sympathetic expressions.
“You’re next,Lord Grandfellow,” Hamish said.
“Thank you, no,” Percy said. “Gentlemen acting noble. Ladies running businesses.” Lowly street urchins gaining a title... “I’ve witnessed and experienced enough of this upside-down view to last me years of complacency.” The last thing he needed was some wife nagging him into a role he had never been meant toplay. He’d suffered poverty, starvation, and war, and yet the life of a gentleman might very well be the thing that did him in.
“Love will change you without you trying,” Renard said.
“What nonsense.”
“He’ll fall hard when it happens,” Hamish said.
Renard nodded. “Indeed.”
Percy scowled. “Don’t you two lovestruck fools have wives to placate or shelters to build for displaced families? Little kittens to rescue from nearby trees?”
“Shelters?” Hamish looked at Renard. “There’s an idea.”
Percy stalked towards the door. “I’m leaving.” Before the men decided to rope him into building a church in the foyer for refugees in the name of Utilitarianism. Good men of sense gone to waste overfeelings.
“Keep an eye out for her,” Hamish called to his back.
Percy opened the door and peered into the hallway, expecting to see Charlotte ready to cut him down with a trademark insult. The hall was empty. He glanced back. “Who?”
Hamish’s smile was smug. “The future Duchess of Grandfellow sent to ruin you into decency like the rest of us.”
The image resurfaced again. A woman, dark haired and dressed in a provocative navy dress, along with the memory of a stolen kiss and a forgotten knife.
Percyhmphedand slammed the door behind him, cursing dukes. As nosy as any women he’d ever met.
