Deborah nearly giggled because Danby stood inches above many men, which likely added to his intimidation.
“It does not matter,” she finally said.
“It was a year and a half lost.”
“Then I will force you to make it up to me.”
Percy chuckled. “How will I do that?”
“By kissing me.” She grinned. “And dancing with me at every ball.”
“I promise…no, I swear that we will waltz at every entertainment, even when there is no dancing.”
“Then we would simply look foolish,” she returned.
“To which I have no objection.”
He did truly want her and love her and had since she had been on his lap.
“I do love you Deborah and I have for a very long time.” He leaned forward and kissed her again. This time it was not chaste but heated and devouring and she had to hold on to his upper arms to keep from falling when her knees threatened to give out.
“Good morning you two.”
Deborah jumped away from Percy, nearly losing her balance only to find Peter standing at the entry to the library.
Percy stiffened. “I will not stand by this time. I love your sister and I intend to marry her.”
“Stand by. What do you mean?”
“It is of no concern,” Peter answered, staring at Percy.
Oh, she used to be able to read Peter’s moods very well, but this was the first time she was uncertain. There was a challenge, and humor and…she wasn’t certain what but Percy had taken up a defensive stance and was once again clutching the cane so tightly that his knuckles turned white.
The same had happened the night before, and her stomach tightened.
Percy had never answered who had broken his nose, and it had been a person, if Tilson was to be believed due to the state of Percy’s face. She knew that it had happened after he left her that summer and before the Season because that was when she first noticed the minor flaw.
Tilson had called on Percy after he returned to London, but the only place Percy had been, to her knowledge, was her home where he had been prevented from telling her goodbye after his departure that had suddenly come about because Peter wanted him gone.
“How did you break your nose?”
Percy blew out a sigh. “Who do you think broke my nose?”
“Peter?” She asked only for clarification because she already knew. His knuckles had been bruised at dinner that night and he had made an excuse of hitting his hand in the stables.
Percy nodded.
“Why would you do such a thing?” she demanded of her brother.
“Because he saw me kissing you. After he sent you way, he planted me a facer and warned me away from you, and from his house. He no longer trusted me and the friendship was over.”
She was going to kill him. She did not care that it was Christmas, she was going to kill her brother and make Johanna a widow.
“You should have explained.”
“He did not give me the opportunity,” Percy informed her. “Each time I tried, he struck me.”
“He hit you more than once?” she nearly screeched as she started to cross the room to Peter.
