Chapter Nine

D are or no dare, Percy couldn't do this.

He ran a hand through his hair, feeling exposed without a wig or mustache to hide behind. There was no story this time, no fa?ade or mission. Tonight, and every night here hence, he'd be the Duke of Grandfellow, vulnerable plucked fowl.

He had but two measly knives strapped to his person, the limit his skintight trousers and fitted vest and coat would allow. It was a joke to miss the itchy costumes and web of falsehoods to remember in company. But stumbling through half-formed accents and lying through his teeth were preferable to the spectacle he made now.

He'd slipped Lord Knight's majordomo a few pounds to keep from announcing him like a course at a dinner party, but it was no matter. As soon as his toe had crossed the ballroom threshold—an opulent and nauseatingly gilded room meant to display wealth and power—every eye turned to him, and then the whispers began.

Percy shuddered. Like insects skittering through bones. And he was the lucky corpse.

What the hell was he thinking?

"You showed up."

"Gah!" Percy scowled at his friend, the Duke of Camine, who leaned against the wall behind him, looking self-important in an elegant black coat and white gloves. Percy was in a sorry state if a damned duke could sneak up on him.

"I can't believe you came; I owe Charlotte five pounds." Hamish shook his head. "Why are you hiding?"

Percy indicated the potted plant he'd been using as a shield between himself and the rest of the flesh-eating maggots. "I was admiring Lady Knight's gardenias."

Hamish smirked. "That's a fern."

Percy straightened his cuffs. "I'd have sworn it was a gardenia bush."

Hamish's expression brightened with glee. "Good God, I can't wait for Charlotte to see you. All nerves and primed like a goose at Christmas." He glanced around, no doubt looking for his sharp-tongued duchess, who was currently chatting with her brother, the Duke of Lux, by the refreshment table.

"Your empathy is overwhelming," Percy muttered.

Hamish showed no remorse. "If our roles were reversed, you'd be selling tickets to my humiliation and using the proceeds to hire actors to immortalize the scene on stage."

True.

"Very well, have your fun. Ten more minutes and I'm gone."

"Why did you come?" Hamish cocked a brow. "We both know it wasn't for flower gazing."

For a woman . Percy nearly said the words aloud but didn't. A woman who was distinctly missing from said ball. The only reason a man like him would voluntarily enter this glittering hell. If Danny wasn't here, that meant she'd invited him and stayed home deliberately.

What a fool he was to believe her ill-conceived words. "We could be friends."

Even now, she must have been regretting what they'd done in her bedchambers.

Percy cursed. He'd told himself to go slow, to take his time. Instead, he'd jumped the gun like an idiot.

It wasn't until now, staring out at the sea of sharks and bottom dwellers, that Percy realized how great an offer friendship had been. Somewhere between last night and today, he'd mucked it all up. The thought made his insides twist, nerves having nothing to do with it.

Lady Charlotte Hurstfield, the Duchess of Camine, glided through the crowd and stopped before them, her wide smile matching the silver ribbon tied at her waist. She cast her husband a smug look. "You owe me five pounds."

Hamish wrapped an arm around her shoulders and pulled her close. "I don't appear to have anything on me at the moment. Would you be interested in a kiss as collateral?"

Her fingers spidered up his lapel, tickling the fabric. "I'll have to charge you interest, you understand?"

Hamish captured her fingers in his hand before raising them to his mouth and smiling. "That's just good business."

Percy rolled his eyes and stepped out from behind the fern and offered his place to the two. "A bit of privacy before you scandalize the unfortunate wallflowers? Or is your goal to be thrown out for indecency?"

"Ooo, thrown out of a ball." Charlotte glanced up at her husband. "That's something we've never done."

Hamish groaned. "No more lists, I beg you. We barely escaped a prison sentence with the last one."

Charlotte sniffed. "I didn't care for Egypt much, anyway."

"I was referring to Prussia."

She startled and frowned. "What laws did we break in Prussia?"

" You admonished the emperor for not having better tact in his public statements." The look he gave her was full of irony.

"It's a criminal offense to state the truth?" Charlotte sighed dramatically. "You men are such delicate creatures."

"You said it to his face ."

Percy admired how the Duchess of Camine didn't so much as blush at the accusation. How he wished he'd been there to watch her insult foreign royalty. He'd always known Lady Charlotte would do great things.

"Never mind me." Charlotte turned her sights on Percy. "Who's blackmailing you and how can I make their acquaintance?"

Percy missed his plant. "I came of my own free will," he said, and for extra effect, "I couldn't go a day longer without seeing you, my dear."

Charlotte ignored him and turned to her husband. "Did you force him?"

Hamish raised his hands in innocence.

Her gaze narrowed. "Is there a body cooling in one of the linen closets somewhere? No, don't tell me. I want to look surprised when the maids start screaming."

Percy scowled. Who needed enemies when one had friends? He straightened his cuffs again. "I'm leaving."

This was a waste of an evening. He could be at home, haunting that drafty old mansion, or learning Mr. Brinkley's new names for the six parks on his property. Or anything else remotely less mind-numbing than standing here like an exotic animal on display.

"No time for that now," Charlotte said, glancing at a man over Percy's shoulder. "Mr. Richmund!"

A young man in a frightful, rose-patterned vest turned and made his excuses to his current party and made his way over, the frown between his brows not boding well.

Hamish offered the man a quick nod, whispering something in Charlotte's ear that sounded suspiciously like, "Do be kind."

Charlotte offered her hand to the new arrival and said, "Mr. Richmund, what a coincidence seeing you again."

Confusion flashed in the man's eyes, but he took her hand and bowed over it. When he stood, his gaze studied her face and seemed to find something familiar. "Lady Charlotte?" His eyes widened. "Has anyone ever told you you share a remarkable resemblance with your brother?"

Charlotte's smile, Percy knew, was one to fear.

"Never," she said. "What an odd thing to say. I suppose eyesight is the first to go after so many years of drinking. And it's Your Grace now. Do keep up."

At Mr. Richmund's baffled expression, Hamish steered his duchess towards the assembly floor, his face carefully blank, his eyes dancing.

"Come, wife. The next set is a waltz," he said, then he added quieter so only the two of them—and Percy—could hear, "When did you start lying?"

Charlotte's response was barely audible over the musician's tuning. "Lying? Dear me, was it not you who suggested I learn to pander to the masses?"

"God help us all."

Percy watched his friendly buoys bob away through the crowd, leaving him the easy decision to wade through the un -pleasantries of chitchat with the fashion criminal beside him or drown in the scorn of improper societal etiquette.

Percy turned his back on Mr. Richmund, ready to be dragged into the inky depths, when a woman in green pulled his head firmly out of the water.

"Good evening, Your Grace," Danny said.

The way the candlelight made her skin glow, she looked heavenly, halo encircled. Her gown was of the same figure-hugging design as the navy one from the Leishires' ball, but this time the deep, evergreen color brought out the red undertones in her hair.

"You're lovely," he blurted out.

She blushed, twin splashes of pink on either cheek.

He stepped close, forgetting the man behind him, the gawking gazes of the others around them, the room itself, and pressed a kiss to her knuckles. "For a moment, I thought you'd left me at the mercy of the peerage."

Her lips tipped in a coy smile. "You'd have preferred the wild dogs."

She knew him so well.

He tucked her hand in the crook of his arm, feeling at once comforted by her at his side and inanely foolish for the unfamiliar, gentlemanly action. "Dogs are far more interesting than people. They shred apart their prey for substance and survival." He glanced about the room. "Instead of these vultures that wait until one of their own has fallen and scavenge the ruin until there is nothing left."

She laughed. "Keep referencing the animal kingdom and my brother will dig his claws into you."

Percy envisioned a burly man with a taste for upholding sisterly honor. "Should I be concerned?"

"Only of long nights researching the flight patterns of the brown long-eared bat."

"Scholarly minded." Percy grimaced thinking of Gregori, Hamish's foreign inventor and their friend, and the man's terrifying focus. "I'll take the dogs and the vultures."

Danny's teasing tone was filled with amusement. "You fear book-laden lairs?"

"Any lair where neither survival nor malice are motivators."

"What, then?"

"Curiosity."

Danny laughed. "I have to disagree. Don is harmless compared to the other one."

Her smile was contagious. Other one? "Another brother?"

"Worse."

"Talking about me already?" someone said.

Percy turned to view their latest party addition, a woman who bore a striking resemblance to Danny with almond-colored hair and a full mouth, but where Danny's eyes filled with challenging fire, this younger woman's gaze was nothing but cold calculation.

Danny groaned beside him, and the sound seemed to spurn the other woman's smile.

"Come now, Danny," the woman said, the cold gaze giving way to mischief. "Won't you introduce me to your new friend?"

*

"Where is Mrs. Pebblestone?" Danny asked.

"I lost her around the punchbowl." Denise's gaze didn't leave the Duke of Grandfellow. "You're short for a man."

Danny sighed at her sister's thinly veiled insult. This was going to end in tears.

Danny thought she'd feel more over losing her virginity: regret, anxiety, fear. But being in the Duke of Grandfellow's presence again had diminished any lingering concern. Frankly, she didn't miss the society-coveted chastity, and the man had a way of putting her at ease—ridiculously—considering he offered no real information about himself without a fight. Fighting with him was electrifying.

A fight between him and her overreaching, brutally forthright sister, however...

Weighing the options of a doomed introduction or the future wrath of her mother, Danny reluctantly, albeit childishly, made a grand flourish of her hand to encompass all that was her troublesome sister. "Your Grace, may I present my sister, Lady Denise. Denise, this is Percival Cole, the new Duke of Grandfellow."

Denise's eyes widened over Percy's obligatory kiss to the hand. The look she threw Danny's way had her groaning a second time in as many minutes. " You're the handsome, interesting one?"

Percy glanced at Danny, brow raised. "Handsome?"

Danny gritted her teeth. Her sister's passion for inciting discourse was not what this evening needed. "Don't mind her. She's to be institutionalized as soon as I can forge Mama's signature."

Denise blew her a kiss and linked arms with Percy as if they were old friends, and something ugly settled in Danny's stomach.

"Such an eyesore, those gardens at Grandfellow. Unkempt, confusing." Denise pulled him along the edge of the dance floor, forcing Danny to take Percy's other side like an additional wheel on an already full axle. "Wouldn't you agree, Your Grace? The sculptures in the maze alone are positively gruesome."

"And she's off," Danny muttered.

Percy's mouth quirked, but his gaze captured Danny's on his other side when he replied, "I can't say I agree, Lady Denise. Athena's Justice , for instance, has become quite a favorite of mine after consideration. The figures alone are stimulating ."

Danny's body heated at his silken tone. Yes, the sculpture was quickly becoming her favorite as well, but it had less to do with craftsmanship and more to do with the memory of fevered kisses and a threat to take her virginity on the fountain's edge.

"What a coincidence; Danny finds the sculptures more whimsical than savage as well."

Danny cut her sister a glare as if to say, "You promised you wouldn't interfere."

Denise's responding smile said, "You wouldn't want me to be rude to our neighbor."

"Yes, I would."

"Did you say something, dear sister?" Denise asked.

Having realized she'd said her last words out loud, Danny smiled sweetly at her sister and repeated, "I would love to find the refreshments with you, Denise." Extricating her sister's arm from Percy's, she offered him an apologetic look. "Excuse us, Your Grace."

Percy's lip twitched again, but he bowed his head. "Wouldn't want to overheat in this crowded room."

Denise tugged at her arm. "Actually, I—"

"Am famished?" Danny towed her sister away and out of earshot. "What is wrong with you?"

"What? He is handsome. And interesting."

Danny stopped them next to a table laden with tarts and sweetmeats, concern turning the sugary scent bitter. After her conversation with Percy last night, she now understood how dangerous it was to ask questions. "Forget whatever you learned." She'd need to take Don aside as well before someone took their family's inquiry as a liability. From what she'd surmised from her conversation with Percy in her bedchamber, his role as a man of the Crown didn't stop at the battlefield. Percy the agent wasn't out of the question. She believed the Home Office had their country's best interests at the forefront of policy, but the shadows in Percy's eyes weren't from patriotic pride.

The secrets he kept, whatever they were, ate at him.

Her own curiosity reared its cat-like head, but she pushed it away. Percy would tell her when he was ready if they could get a second alone. "Promise me, Denise. You will tell no one?"

Denise considered her in that maddening silent predator way she had, her gaze hard and focused, gauging how far she could manipulate the situation before her prey lashed out in self-defense.

"I'm serious, Denny," Danny said.

Denise's brow cocked at the childhood nickname. It had been years since the siblings had outgrown the trio of cute names: Donny, Danny, Denny. "Clearly." She waved her hand back and forth, dispensing with the posturing. "If that's what you want."

Far too easy. "I mean it."

Denise rolled her eyes. "Don't be so suspicious, sister. It will sour your complexion. Even I can acknowledge not every secret needs airing." Her gaze flicked to where Percy shook hands with the Duke of Lux across the room. "I like him. He's hard to read but composed."

Her sister's approval was strangely reassuring, though Denise's assessment was all wrong. It amazed her how no one else saw how Percy kept straightening his cuffs and running his hand through his hair, clearly uncomfortable with wearing his real face.

"You should marry him."

Danny startled at her sister's words. "What? He's a friend ." Who happened to bring her to shattering orgasms with his tongue. Marrying would ruin everything. Gentlemen wanted docile and placating wives. Innocent wives. Not that Percy seemed the kind of man to turn his nose up at a woman with darker tastes.

Denise didn't miss her flushed cheeks. "You're attracted. Plus, he's rich, handsome." She shrugged. "Doesn't flinch when teased."

"Your ideas of what makes a man desirable baffles me." Danny crushed her racing heart. "Anything else?"

"Yes." Denise gave her a pointed look. "He makes you smile and blush and"—she scrunched her nose—"I don't know, glow, maybe."

"Glow?"

Denise mocked shielding her eyes. "I swear my eyes are watering. I may need to find relief behind a potted plant until you dim to acceptable vision standards."

"Be serious." Danny turned away from her sister's scandalous display, only to find the source of their conversation.

Danny cataloged the sensual tilt of Percy's mouth and the strong, square jaw and charming cleft in his chin.

As if feeling her gaze, he looked over and their gazes locked.

The couples on the floor slowed, the sound of the orchestra muffled. There was a stolen moment in time and then there was this; when time itself stole away, leaving everyone and everything in suspended animation.

Danny tried to blink but couldn't. Nor could she look away. Percy took up her whole view and more, as if she were looking at more than the present, but also a not-so-distant future.

A set of gloved fingers snapped in her face.

Danny blinked and turned her attention to her sister's smirking face.

"Go ask him to dance," Denise said.

Sound and reality crashed back in, along with a thrill at the bold idea. "I couldn't."

"Why not? Friends can't dance?"

Frankly, she had no idea. "What if he says ‘no'?"

Denise's pitying set to her mouth filtered into her words. "You are beautiful, strong, and clever, and you have the best cleavage in the room."

Danny blinked and glanced at her neckline. Her breasts did look rather well against the silk. "Thank you."

"You're welcome."

"What about you?" Danny wouldn't dwell on how she latched on to the need to accompany her sister as a means of cowardice.

Denise gave her a knowing look. " I will be fine. Perhaps I'll go in search of someone more fun to play with." Her gaze seemed to snag on someone across the room, her lips twitching up into a sly smile. "And I do believe I found the perfect partner, just returned home from finishing school."

Danny glanced at where Lady Kendra—fair haired, porcelain skinned and vile-tongued bully—had accepted a dance from the Duke of Wemberly. "Please don't engage the beast. She's nearly forgotten I exist, and I enjoy the lack of insults and glares."

Denise smirked, clearly not intending to listen. "Go on and dance." She nodded in Percy's direction. "He won't say ‘no.' No man has ever said ‘no' to you."

Percy isn't like other men , Danny couldn't help thinking.

"And if he does refuse..." Denise said, her gaze again lifting to the lady across the room.

Danny's stomach clenched. "Denise!"

Her sister's gaze returned, and she cocked a brow. "You're a Deime." Her smirk turned saucy. "Make sure he gives you a better offer."