“Precise measurements are important,” Gregori said. “How you exaggerate your penile size to the ladies doesn’t interest me.”
“I see you’ve upped your insult game.” If Percy weren’t in such a hurry, he’d have offered the man a drink in commemoration. “Work on your bedside manner, genius.Thentalk to me about playing nice with others. Now, the mirror, if you would?”
Gregori rolled his eyes and waved a hand to his left. “Auf dem tisch.”
Renard frowned. “What did he say?”
Percy smiled. “That your haircut reminds him of peach fuzz, and your vest is on backwards.”
Hamish ran a hand over his face, lines of exasperation pulling the corners of his mouth down. “He said, ‘on the table.’”
Percy eyed the Duke of Camine with new appreciation. “I didn’t know you spoke German.”
“I had to. It was the only way to negotiate Charlotte’s release from foreign custody.”
Percy laughed. How he wished he’d been a gnat on the sill listening to Hamish plead his wife’s case in broken German.
Renard wasn’t so amused. “Why is this the first time I’m hearing about my sister’s incarceration?”
Percy, mournfully, interrupted what was shaping up to become a bloody battle of fisticuffs. “Gentlemen—and genius—I regret I have more important things to do than watch you... do anything.” Like taking his wife against the wall and making her scream his name.
Hamish’s call stopped him at the door. “Where to next?”
Percy looked to the rafters and sighed. He needed two dukes trailing his every step like he needed Danny to save another cat. Lord Pickles had already wormed her way into sharing his bed, slippers, and one particularly unfortunate bath neither of them would forget. He still couldn’t look the stupid feline in the eye.
“Don’t need a nursemaid,” Percy reiterated. “Go home to your wives, enjoy married life, build a church.”
“What if we agree to do everything you say?” Renard offered.
Percy rolled his eyes. He needed twoobsequiousdukes trailing him like he needed the cat rammed up his arse. “No need, duke. Wives,” he reminded. “Pretty, feisty wives who no longer have a reason to throw shoes at your head, what with the babe out.”
Renard—whipped man that he was—seemed to consider.
Hamish, reading the same expression on his brother-in-law’s face, sighed and promised, “Fine. We’ll stay out of it.”
Finally.
Relieved, Percy forgot how close he stood to the genius when he mumbled, “Now if I could only get the Greens and the Merrys to play their roles.”
“Narren besorgung,” Gregori said.
Percy rubbed his temple. “Again with the German, genius? Really, you’ve lived in England for how long now?”
Gregori offered an uncharacteristic scolding. “Itisa fool’s errand. Encouraging gang activity is moronic and irresponsible.”
Percy’s gaze narrowed. “How do you know about that?” His machinations—a subtle bit of vandalism here, a false rumor there—none of the recent tensions on the streets could be traced back to him, especially by a man who only deigned to show his face in public for the rare tumble with the local pleasure girls. Decidedly open-mouthed pleasure girls.
Answering his own question, he glared at Gregori. “If we can get back to business?”
“I won’t help you,” he said. “Not if it means starting a war between the Greens and the Merrys.”
Hamish jolted. “You’re starting a gang war? Are you an idiot?”
Percy rolled his eyes. This was why he worked alone. “Not an actual war. Merely the illusion of one. I informed Markus of my actions before I expertly stepped on toes. No need to worry.”
“What about the Greens?” Hamish said. “Did you get their cooperation?”
“Of course not. Any one of those ingrates could be in Nic’s pocket.” Seriously,thiswas why dukes made the worst partners.
