Page 35 of Bound to a Wicked Duke

Percy chuckled, shaking his head. “I am certain that it is not the first time that said gentlemen have been given a reproachful look. They will survive. No actual harm was done.”

The two men made their way to the pub and took a seat in a back corner. A young barmaid came over and attempted to sit in Percy’s lap. “May I be of service, My Lord?” She attempted a seductive tone. “I have much to offer a man of your quality.”

“No, thank you,” Percy refused her, shaking his head, and raised his hands to fend her off. “Two steak and kidney pies and two of your stoutest ales is all that we require.”

“Suit yourself,” the girl pouted in disappointment, but she did as she was asked and went to retrieve their food.

“You have changed,” Cecil noted, studying Percy’s face. “The old Percy would not have hesitated to forget his worries in the arms of a buxom lass such as that. Is it my sister that has changed you, or do you simply wish to be perceived as worthy of her in my eyes?” Concern tinted his voice.

Percy shook his head, giving Cecil a warning look. “Not now, Cecil. I am in no mood. A man has the right to refuse company without enduring an inquisition.”

Cecil studied Percy for a moment longer then decided to let it go for the moment. “Will you be attending Emily and Charles’ garden party?”

Percy nodded. “I will.”

Cecil nodded, pleased. “Father chose well for Emily when he chose the Viscount of Kensington.”

“Charles is a good man,” Percy agreed.If only the Earl had been as careful with his choice of suitor for Madeleine.Percy chose not to voice his thoughts aloud. Steering the conversation away from marriage and onto safer waters, Percy informed Cecil about the meeting that he had had at White’s before Cecil’s arrival. “I may have a new investor for our venture.”

Cecil’s face lit up. “Oh?”

“It is tentative but promising. I will give you his information and let you work out the details. What he is offering could be enough to go ahead with the expansion.”

“Wonderful!” Cecil’s face lit up at the news, the worry lines smoothing from his forehead. His sister and all thoughts of courtship seemed to vanish from his mind. They talked on in this manner for some time before at long last Cecil arose to bid Percy farewell. “I will see you at the cricket match tomorrow. I am looking forward to it.”

Percy nodded. “I was informed that the ladies of the ton have arranged a picnic for us all afterwards.”

“Excellent. I will see you tomorrow then.” Cecil tipped his hat then left the pub to return to his family.

Once Cecil departed, the barmaid made her way back over to Percy. “I see that you are at long last alone. Would you care for some company now?” Her eyes looked at him lustily.

Cecil had been right. At one time not that long ago, Percy would have taken her up on her offer, but he had not touched another woman since he and Madeleine had come to their arrangement. What once would have held temptation for him, no longer even aroused his curiosity.

“I am sure your talents for carnal pleasure many, but, no, thank you,” he replied. This time the woman pouted, looking genuinely disappointed that he had refused her services, but she accepted payment of his tab and let him be.

After leaving the pub, Percy walked the streets of London for some time, his mind filled with thoughts of Madeleine. How she was as a child. How she was now. So different in many ways and yet still so similar where it counted. Her kindness had not faded. Even when her witty retorts came out brashly, it was still there.

Thoughts of his own past then stemmed from noting this, driving him more inside of himself as he walked. While he was distracted, a young pickpocket slipped his hand inside of Percy’s coat and attempted to take off with his father’s pocket watch.

Reacting out of reflex, Percy grabbed the boy’s arm and snatched the watch out of his hand. He whirled the boy around and was met with a thin, young face smothered in grime and freckles. His eyes, a pale blue, were wide from the shock of being caught.

“And what, pray tell, do you believe yourself to be doing?” Percy asked, a brow perked in near amusement as he stared down at the young thief. “Are you trying to get yourself hanged or transported to America?”

“Let me go!” the boy yelled, squirming to get away. It was no use against Percy’s firm hold, but he attempted to kick Percy in the shins all the same. The Duke, though, having been in many fights himself, was far was too fast for him and dodged the blow with ease.

“Plucky little fellow, aren’t you? No, I will not,” Percy chuckled, now more amused than annoyed. “Now, hold still while I decide what to do with you.”

Pocketing his watch again, he grabbed the boy’s other shoulder and looked at him square on. He had already noticed the thinness of the boy’s face, but as he looked him over, he noted that his entire frame was far too frail and small. His collarbone jutted out like a platform, and through thin, torn, filthy clothes he could feel the sharpness of his bones. The boy hadn’t eaten. Probably in days. And from the pale blue half-moon bruises beneath his eyes, Percy assumed he had not had much to drink either.

“Who are your parents, boy?” he asked, his tone firm.

The boy flashed him an angry glare, and Percy immediately knew the answer.

“What parents?” he spat out, bitterly, confirming Percy’s suspicions.

“An orphan, huh?” Percy mused, compassion entering his tone.

The boy fell silent, refusing to answer as he lowered his head until his chin rested in the sharp little hallow between either side of his collarbone. He kicked at a clump of dirt on the street, a sob disguised as a growl leaving his throat as two small rivers formed a trail down each cheek, drawing a stark, pale line through the grime.

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