"No?"
She laughed. "Virility is an admirable trait. Everyone says so. They also say that with your looks and mine, our children would not lack in beauty."
"Ah, yes. I suppose it's too much exertion to have a child with unsymmetrical features."
"You tease me. Just know that that there were rumors you were at a ball with the daughter of some dead country squire." She sniffed, as if the fact that Fiona's father was dead heightened Fiona's negative reputation.
"I am sorry you had to hear from someone else." He sipped his hot drink, and the faint hints of clove and nutmeg reminded him of Fiona. "The rumors are true."
"Your behavior indicated that."
They were silent, and the cheery sounds of the violin quartet sounded jarring, an improper background to the stilted conversation between Lady Cordelia and himself.
"I heard you were kidnapped."
"That was a misunderstanding. Why, the woman's family even lives in a castle."
"Indeed? How terribly quaint. I suppose the north is filled with all sorts of curiosities." Lady Cordelia laughed, though Percival didn't bother to join her this time.
Feigning joy was difficult in any situation, but his chest had never felt so hollow. He shut his eyes, but when he opened them, nothing had changed. He didn't love her, he didn't think he ever could, and he wouldn't settle for anything else. Not after he'd met Fiona.
Percival was not going to propose. Hades himself couldn't force him to. Not after spending the past few days with the most fascinating woman he'd ever met. It didn't matter if that same woman had sent him away, and it didn't matter that he didn't deserve to beg for her forgiveness.
He had a conscience, and by Zeus, he was going to listen to it.
***
"The Duchess of Belmonte told me that you did not propose to her daughter." The dowager's voice was firm.
"Sternness doesn't suit you, Aunt Georgiana. You should try being happy for a change."
"Simply being happy?" The dowager sucked in a deep breath of air and then exhaled loudly. She waved her hand in a frantic motion before her chest and was about to repeat the process when he sighed.
"Let's sit down."
"So you can rest?" Her gaze swung to the void where his leg should be, and he stiffened. "No. You don't get to rest. I chose the perfect woman for you, one willing to overlook your flaws."
"I don't want a woman who will overlook my flaws."
"Then you don't want any woman at all."
His fists tightened. "I want a woman who will embrace my strengths."
She sighed. "My son would never have-"
Percival's chest constricted. The wrong Carmichael had died. He knew that. Not that he could do anything about it.
He raised his eyebrows, and his aunt's voice wobbled. "On a purely theoretical level though, your cousin was more trained to take on the responsibilities of the dukedom. That's all I mean."
"You're correct."
"Then you will marry Lady Cordelia?"
He turned his head toward the ballroom and then shook his head. "No."
The dowager stiffened. "This is a simple task, Percival. If you can't do even this, how are you supposed to accomplish any of the tasks of the dukedom? Running an estate is not something you should abandon to your estate manager. The incomes of many people depend on you. And with your leg-" She pointed her fan toward it, flashing the item with as much derision as any schoolmaster. "You'll be under more scrutiny than ever before. It won't be easy to find another woman for you. You've already proved yourself untrustworthy, breaking the understanding-"
He swiveled, and his heart pattered an unsteady rhythm in his chest. Sweat prickled the back of his neck, and he tightened his grip on his cane. The dainty silver head was more suitable for show than for practicality, and his fingers slid over the rounded dome.
Losing a leg meant more stress on the other portions of his body, and even standing seemed a challenge now. The candles continued their relentless gleam, dazzling his eyes, and the fire leaped and lurched in the stone fireplace. The heat continued to brush against him, and sweat continued to prickle his clothes.
The dowager glanced at his cane. "Perhaps you should sit."
"I'm fine."
She shrugged. "Just as long as you resist any urge to fall. You've rather disgraced us enough already, and I'm sure Her Grace's footmen are sufficiently occupied managing this marvelous ball without having to haul you from the floor."
In the past he would have suggested they continue their conversation in the courtyard, and in a few moments they might be enjoying the crisp air and remarking on the winter garden and the beauty of the bare branches. He had no desire now to hobble before everyone, and he would endure the heat and the curious glances from the other party-goers.
Exhaustion struck him. The journey to London had been rough, the coach jostling as it sped over poorly maintained roads. He longed to close his eyes. "There was no understanding."
"You were fetching the family jewels. Why you wouldn't just let a servant do it … " She shook her head. "It's not like you could be any help to protect them. As evidenced by what happened."
He stiffened. Perhaps he had used the jewels as an excuse to escape London. He was tired of the false sympathy from the other members of the ton. Their condolences seemed often mixed with the glee of seeing the man who had soared to a position of prominence so suddenly with so few qualifications to redeem him.
"You're tired," the dowager said, her voice lowered to a mollifying note. "You mustn't worry. I'll go to Her Grace and explain the misunderstanding. I'm sure you really meant to propose, but you were simply overwhelmed by Lady Cordelia's undeniable beauty and charm and overly conscious of your lack of a second leg."
"I-"
The dowager's lips spread into a smile, one he recognized from his childhood. "It will be fine. You can go home and rest. Perhaps it was a mistake to bring you here in your position."
"You mustn't speak with her. My mind is determined. Let us depart."
"But-"
This time he smiled. "The Duchess of Belmonte might find our presence unwelcome."
The dowager slammed her fan shut, and her hand tightened around the grandiose material. "Very well. But do not believe me to be the least bit content."
"No." He sighed. "You're right. I will depart now, and if you choose to remain here, you may naturally do so. But I am not going to marry Lady Cordelia, and you need not arrange any other wife."
"Are you saying you have someone else in mind?" The dowager narrowed her eyes. "Because a wife is of the utmost importance if you desire to be a good duke, as you claim. I'm sure I needn't explain the usefulness of a wife in procuring legitimate children. Your cousin did not die in order to see the estate divided or given to a person even less lacking in merits than you."
The image of Fiona flitted before his mind. The woman was warm and amusing and of more intelligence than even the much-lauded Lady Cordelia.
But she'd never sought to be a wife. She'd stated the fact to him, and well, he had to believe that. Fiona struggled to attend one provincial ball. She wouldn't have any desire to manage a household and host her own balls. She'd pretended to be a highwaywoman, for goodness' sake. She was suited for a life that consisted of digging up old ruins and avoiding high society.
He bowed his head. "I have no one in mind."
Chapter Twenty-six
Fiona had pushed her colored dresses further into her wardrobe and shifted her attire to black. The servants removed the Christmas adornments, and bare walls surrounded her. The period reminded of her when her parents had died, except now Grandmother could not console her.
Grandmother's body was buried. Fiona hadn't been permitted to attend the funeral, but she'd heard servants muse of the blessing that Grandmother's death had preceded any possibility of her learning of Fiona's disgrace.
Perhaps the gossips were justified, though Fiona would have gladly accepted any discomfit or embarrassment, were Grandmother only to have lived a little while longer.
The magistrate never imprisoned her. She'd received a stern warning instead.
She deserved to be punished. Had her family not had a reasonably good name, she would have experienced a harsher penalty.
Graeme did appear, telling her it was a crime she was allowed to roam the countryside still. He did return Ned to her though he didn't explain what had compelled him to return the animal.