Chapter 18

Chapter Eighteen

“ I ’m only declining your invitation because I refuse to kill anything innocent. I have seen enough death in my life to last me a lifetime or even more. I do not want any more blood on my hands, both human and animal. You are welcome to enjoy your sport, but do leave me out of it.”

Louisa stopped in her tracks and looked at Percival, seeing him in a new light. She had been making her way towards him because they had been apart for too long and he had yet to ask her to dance—which was appropriate, since they were newlyweds. Now, all thoughts flew out of her head but the fact that he shared her views on the matter.

She had never understood the need to kill innocent creatures for sport when most of the kills were hardly ever eaten. She had decided it was one of the things that she would never understand, seeing as she was a woman, but she was glad that her husband shared her opinion.

“It wouldn’t be for sport, Colborne,” the man she identified as the Duke of Banbury declared. “They are giving their lives for a worthy cause.”

Louisa admired the man’s grit while dealing with her husband. He lacked wisdom—surely he did, or else he would not have dared to speak those words. Especially not to her husband, whose face looked worse than the clouds on a particularly stormy day.

“I can’t say I’m surprised that you would rather delude yourself into thinking that you’re doing the country a great service in your high-back chair in the House of Lords and your frippery than giving your life for a worthy cause, as you put it.”

Banbury’s smile dropped, his face paling with each word that Percival spoke, and it had taken everything in her not to burst into laughter. It was almost hilarious how her husband had sapped the smarminess out of the men surrounding him with only a few words.

Louisa sighed, shaking her head. Percival had asked her to help restore his reputation, but if he continued acting the way he did, there would be nothing left to restore eventually.

“I had better mingle with some of the other guests,” she heard Banbury say, his eyes darting around before he scurried off.

Percival sighed and shook his head perhaps, regretting the harsh way he had spoken. The action brought a smile to Louisa’s face as she regarded him. He really was so boyish in his mannerisms sometimes that it made her forget he was a fearsome duke.

She raised her hand to draw his attention, but then she stopped when laughter from beside him drew his attention to who must have been a friend of his.

The man was slightly shorter than her husband, but he was just as broad, with dark hair and grey eyes. He was handsome, and she couldn’t help but note the slight resemblance to her husband.

She shook the absurd thought out of her head, realizing that it was their similar colouring that was playing tricks on her mind. She recognized him as Elijah Balfour, the Baron Gillingham, and decided to wait till he noticed her.

They must have been really close because he kept laughing despite receiving a warning look from her closed-off husband.

“I’m sorry, Percy.” He chuckled. “I cannot help but find it amusing how you chased him away.”

“It was rather foolish to try and insult my shooting skills to get me to accept his invitation.”

“How was he to know that you wouldn’t be moved by such childish mind games?”

“He was sorely unprepared to deal with me,” Percival replied, before downing his drink in one angry gulp. “They all are. I’m almost disappointed that they haven’t changed their tactics since I left.”

“They didn’t have the opportunity, Percy,” the Baron said. “It has been dreadfully dull here.”

“How have you survived this long without running mad?”

“I had Michael, and now I have you.”

Percival snorted. “I do not intend to play nice for very much longer.”

“Not even with me?”

Percival’s answering glare had the Baron laughing again.

Lord Gillingham seemed like a man with an easy smile. Louisa wondered how the two of them were friends, considering the differences in their dispositions.

“You haven’t even started playing nice. You should not have been so hard on the Duke,” Lord Gillingham scolded playfully. “After all, you two are old friends and might have been family had you not jilted his daughter.”

Louisa’s eyes widened at the revelation.

Percival had been engaged once? And he had jilted the lady?

“Do not remind me,” Percival groaned. “And I didn’t jilt her. I had to end things because she would not have wanted to marry a soldier who may or may not have come back alive.”

“What would you call it, then?” The Baron laughed. “I remember how she cried when you told her you were going to war. Michael and I couldn’t stop laughing at the look on your face.”

“I cannot wait to see you fall in love.”

“I do not intend to experience such a sentiment, and you know it,” the Baron snorted. “I would doubtless court anyone because I want to.”

Louisa stumbled back, deciding that she had heard enough.

She didn’t know why, but disappointment coursed through as she realized that Percival would have been married to a woman he actually loved and would doubtless have had children of his own had things gone differently. He wouldn’t have been in a loveless, passionless marriage.

As a second son with no title, he wouldn’t have been forced to marry or have children for the sake of continuing the line.

She walked away from him—stumbling, if she chose to be accurate—needing air and space to process what she had heard. She had deluded herself into thinking that perhaps, one day, they would come to have a normal relationship like all married couples did, but he had not even chosen her because he liked her. He had chosen her because she was a convenient way to fix his problems without having to exert himself. She had been an all too willing, easy solution.

It was almost too much to bear, and all she needed was to be by herself, preferably away from the prying eyes of the ton, who would have no doubt quickly spread the word that the new Duchess was crying. The balcony was only a few steps away, and she could already sense the cold air.

“Being a duchess suits you,” she heard suddenly from behind her, and she drew to a halt.

Dammit.

She groaned inwardly. Just when she thought she could escape, someone had to demand her attention.

She took a quick, steadying breath, wiping her face and eyes in case any errant tears had escaped before turning to face the culprit. And she was surprised to find Lord Pemberton standing before her.

“Lord Pemberton,” she greeted. “Good evening.”

“Good evening to you too,” he said with a bow. “I feel like I have barely seen you since you jilted me for your Duke.”

She noticed that he hadn’t once winced or looked upon her with pity as he used to, and she wondered what could have brought about the change in his demeanor.

Perhaps now that he wouldn’t have to marry her, he could stomach the sight of her?

“I would hardly call what I did jilting,” she countered with a smile. “You and my mother assumed I was courting anyone. You could have asked.”

“I saw no need to, considering you went along with it.” He smiled back. “Almost as though?—”

She didn’t let him finish.

“How can I help you, Lord Pemberton?” she asked. “Surely you didn’t just come to reminisce about the past, and I’ve been married long enough that it would be more appropriate for you to send me your felicitations.”

She sincerely hoped he didn’t hold a grudge against her and didn’t intend to get revenge. It wouldn’t be unexpected, but she wasn’t in the mood to deal with that currently.

“I came to ask you to dance.”

“Excuse me?”

“I would like to dance with you,” he reiterated. “Is it a strange thing to ask?”

“Why?” she demanded, hoping no one had heard the odd request.

“We are friends, are we not?” he pointed out. “Is it odd for friends to share a dance?”

“I cannot dance with you when everyone knows that we courted once,” she explained, wondering why he would suggest it, let alone think it. “It isn’t proper.”

“I only made the proposition as a friend, Louisa.” He smiled. “I know you are happy with your Duke, and since when have you cared what the ton think?”

“I don’t exactly care what they think, but I am married now. I wouldn’t want to make the wrong impression.”

“I can understand that, but your husband doesn’t seem very keen on showing you the same courtesy,” he sighed. “I mean, he hasn’t even asked you to dance.”

Louisa frowned deeply to show her displeasure, even though she worried that everyone present had somehow glimpsed her sadness.

“You cannot manipulate my emotions to get me to dance with you, Lord Pemberton,” she huffed, peering down her nose at him. “And my husband is busy reconnecting with old friends of his who wouldn’t appreciate you slandering him.”

“I have tried being polite,” Lord Pemberton said, undeterred by her threat. “There’s no need to resort to threats. I know just how powerful your husband is.”

“Yet, you would dare to cross him.”

“A man needs to have his feathers ruffled every once in a while,” he answered with a shrug of his shoulders.

“I sincerely hope that, for your sake, he would find as much humor in this situation.” She shook her head.

She couldn’t deny that the prospect of dancing excited her, and since no one had dared to ask her, she had resigned herself to sticking to the fringes of the room.

“If he doesn’t, you will do your best to sweeten things with him, won’t you?”

She snorted, then clapped a hand over her mouth.

Lord Pemberton laughed and slapped a hand on his thigh. “You’ve always been much too proper, Louisa.” He gave her a wink. “It is nice to see you loosening up. I will keep this between us.”

“At what cost?” she asked teasingly.

“A dance or two,” he answered thoughtfully. “We shall see as the night goes on.”

She sighed and shook her head with a laugh. “I can’t recall you being this stubborn.”

“There are a lot of things you do not know about me, my dear.” He grinned at her wolfishly. “Now come, we are about to miss the first dance.”

Louisa let herself be led to the dance floor. It had been an age since she had danced, and it was nice to feel the music in a way she hadn’t for so long.

She curtsied as Lord Pemberton bowed, and she noticed from his movements that he, too, enjoyed dancing.

“You are a rather graceful dancer, Your Grace,” he commended, stealing the words out of her mouth.

“Likewise, My Lord.” She smiled.

They spun again and bowed to each other. Eventually, Louisa felt a great weight lift off her shoulders. She found herself not worrying about the conflicting feelings she had for her husband or the grimness of the life she had resigned herself to. Rather, she felt only the rhythm of the music in her veins and the familiar stirring of her blood as she danced.

Since the accident, she had danced only a few perfunctory dances with gentlemen her mother had tried to marry her off to, but there had been no enjoyment, considering her partners looked like they would rather be anywhere else in the world. She only had to concentrate on carrying out the steps with precision and showing no emotion. But with Lord Pemberton, she felt the playful flirtation in their movements.

She couldn’t help but wonder how it would feel like if she and Percival were to ever share a dance. Considering how unyielding he was, she suspected he would lead the dance. Would he even remember the steps? It would have been an age since he last danced.

“Where did you go, dear Louisa?” Lord Pemberton asked, spinning her around.

“Nowhere you need to worry about,” she answered with a wink.

He laughed and bowed as the first dance ended, before leading her into the next. Her blood roared, and her feet ached, but she was having too much fun considering the impropriety of dancing twice with him.

She noticed a few eyes on them and noted that the Viscount seemed to revel in the attention. They had danced more than one dance, after all. The ton’s questioning stares were not unfounded. Perhaps she should end the dance before any unkind rumours would begin.

“Everyone is staring at us,” she murmured, looking around the ballroom again. “I think we had better stop. We’ve been too improper.”

More eyes swiveled in their direction, and it was starting to make her uncomfortable, as she couldn’t tell what their expressions meant.

“You have misjudged their intentions, dear Louisa.” Lord Pemberton smiled as he eyed the crowd. “Can’t you see the admiration in their eyes?”

Admiration? Why?

“You are rather beautiful tonight,” he continued, as though he had heard her thoughts. “And we do make a striking pair, even though you are married.”

She gave him a reproachful look, and he laughed again.

“We do. It’s a shame you had to marry someone else before I realized you were a diamond in need of polishing. Nonetheless, I know how to cut my losses.”

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Isabella amidst the crowd that had gathered, and her sister winked at her, causing her to laugh. That was a look she could interpret.

Lord Pemberton raised an eyebrow questioningly.

“I just wonder why it has taken me so long to see it,” she explained.

“That we are a striking pair?”

“No.” She shook her head, rolling her eyes at him. “That I have been hiding away all this time.”

“Have you decided you want to shine, little diamond?”

She looked him in the eyes and nodded.

She was tired of being relegated to the wall. Tired of the boring life she had led before. Tired of waiting to be noticed, when she could have put herself in the spotlight.

“Then come, let us make you shine.”