Page 24 of Bound to a Wicked Duke

She threw her pillow at her sister’s head. Emily caught it, laughing.

“I am not wrong! You have fancied Percy since we were children. Do not think that I did not notice.”

She arose from the bed before Madeleine could deny it.

“I will see you at supper,” Emily said in farewell.

She tossed the pillow back at Madeleine and left her to rest in peace.

I do not fancy Percival Hardy. I could never be interested in Percy. I could never love any man. Could I…?

CHAPTER SEVEN

“You cheat,” Thomas said dryly as Percy’s mace elegantly drove the black ball into the left far corner pocket.

“I do not,” Percy replied matter-of-factly, stabbing the thicker end of his mace to the floor, so he could lean on it. “I am simply better than you.”

Thomas Quinley, an old associate of Percy’s, grumbled something incoherent into his glass of whiskey. They had started the game as friends, but the more losses Thomas accrued, the less friendly their time together had become.

“You were a sore loser when we were children, and you are a sore loser now, old boy,” Percy teased as a servant came to re-rack the balls.

It was late; several hours passed since he had left Madeleine and her family at her carriage, and he had given up trying to pass thetime alone. Upon returning home, he went to his office to return some missives from his steward in Greyhall, but he could not concentrate. Every time he began to pen a single letter to page he found himself lost in some thought or other of Madeleine.

Finally, after sitting stoically at his desk for a better part of the evening, he had given up and taken himself to White’s. Part of him was hoping to run into Cecil, but Percy noted the moment of relief he felt when he found Cecil not to be attendance. Thomas had spotted him quickly though, and he had become a decent distraction from Percy’s incessant thoughts—even if he was starting to become annoying.

“I am not a sore loser,” Thomas scoffed, polishing the tip of his mace. “I just know when a man is taking the easier road.”

Percy’s hand froze for a moment, just as he was tilting his glass of whiskey back to finish it, then he narrowed his eyes as he met Thomas’s and purposely drained what was left in the glass. He then sat it down calmly, picked up his stack, and moved to the top of the table to break the freshly racked balls.

“Are we still speaking of billiard play?” he asked as he leaned down to line up his shot, “or are you a coward with your words as well?”

His eyes flitted to his shot, he took aim, and with a thrust of his fist around his mace, sent the white ball careening into the colored ones. They shot away from one another like wood splintered on a pistol target, and two of the smooth colored balls rolled into pockets.

“Looks like I’m in the lead again,” he murmured with a competitive grin.

“I tried all last summer to court Lady Madeleine,” Thomas bit out, “and she would not give me an inch.”

Though Percy was surprised at the admission, he kept his expression unbothered as he took his next shot, purposely missing. Thomas grinned ruefully at the mistake and quickly, if not clumsily, bent down to line up his shot.

“Are you looking for my condolences?” Percy asked casually. “I have never personally been refused by a woman, but I am aware that it can be a brutal affliction to the ego.”

Thomas sneered up him, losing his focus, and scratched the billiard table with the tip of his mace instead of hitting the cue ball.

“In some places that would be considered an immediate loss,” Percy could not help but quip.

Thomas slammed his mace down onto the billiard player, drawing the attention of a few other gentlemen around them.

“You have been gone for years,” Thomas sneered, “off gallivanting on your whims while the rest of us did our duty and stayed among thetonto protect our society.”

“Protect?” Percy laughed.

“I have worked hard,we—”He waved a hand toward the other gentlemen at White’s. “—have worked to uphold our society, and the reward is to be a good standing wife.”

“And I am stopping that how?” Percy asked.

He could tell by Thomas’ growing anger that he should be acting more seriously, but he was in a peculiar mood and was enjoying goading the angry little baron.

“Madeleine Gillett is one of us,” Thomas insisted, taking a staggering step toward Percy. “Shebelongswith one of us, not you. Duke or not, you ran from your problems like a scared child.”

---