Page 37 of Her Ruse with the Rakish Duke
“He spoke about your father, did he not? I will retract his invitation.”
“Again, I am not a child. Leave the man be.”
“But you would never be that affected these days. Unless you are afraid it would give her a twisted impression of you.”
“You should quit drinking.” Victor strode toward the door. “I was not afraid. I was angry. She has nothing to do with it.”
“All right. Then you are truly courting her, and it is not a sham to dissuade Amelia?” Victor faced his friend.
Victor feigned ignorance. It was less pathetic. “I am afraid I do not follow what you are saying.”
“You would have been engaged to her, if this were serious. You would sing it from the rooftops and paint it over the walls. Your courtship is a lie, is it not? I just do not understand why it has to be so.”
“Nor do I understand the direction of this conversation.” Victor almost ran out of the drawing room. He blinked rapidly against the onslaught from the chilly night air.
The lights were still on in the ballroom. He would go there to escort Daphne, then retire for the night.
When he got to the door, he paused and scanned the room. There were still several couples dancing. He saw Daphne’s mother speaking animatedly to Percy Farton. He searched for Daphne or Melanie. Neither one was around.
He waited for a few minutes for their return. Occasionally, he would look in her mother’s direction. She seemed to be soothing Percy now, patting his shoulder. From the concern on her face, he could guess the topic of the conversation.
Someone cleared his throat behind him.
“Your Grace, do you wish to retire now? Shall I have hot water drawn up for you?”
Victor withdrew his gaze from the ballroom. “Yes.”
Tomorrow was another day.
* * *
The morning dawned bright and clear. Although Victor did not see Daphne before he left, he was in high spirits. He skipped down the stairs, taking them two at a time. He looked left and right, and confirmed that there were no lurking servants to see this skipping.
Before he stepped outside, he propped his shotgun on a table. He tugged his flat black hat from side to side, worrying that it was not properly centered.
A moment later, he grabbed the shotgun and strode outside. His friend and a couple of men waited. It was a day bright with sunlight, and the air was fragrant with blooming flowers. Not even Harry’s incredulous gaze could put a dent in his steps.
“You are quite early today, and splendidly dressed too, Your Grace. Might I enquire about this sudden change?”
“Good morning to you, too,” Victor greeted, tapping his gun on the other men’s. “Shall we proceed to the grounds?”
“That is a fine gun, Your Grace,” one man commented after they had returned his greetings.
Victor glanced at it. “Yes, it is necessary when you are traveling the high seas with a temperamental crew.”
He directed his gaze at Harry, making it clear that he would shoot his stupid head off, should he continue to make fun of him. Harry laughed, shaking his head. The men joined in, with the one who had complimented Victor wondering what he had gotten himself into.
They were all dressed in a similar manner to him. “The gamekeeper should have the pheasants ready by now. Let us go.”
Soon, they were joined by appointed servants who would act as the assistants, loading their guns after each round. The men chatted about the weather and the waiting sport. Victor did not contribute much. Each step brought him closer to the Bird Shooting grounds, where the rest of the guests would gather.
Daphne and her family would be there, along with Percy Farton. He was not a petty man nor was he particularly vengeful. If he were, his father would have died a long time ago.
He tried to remind himself of that quality when he spotted the bright red coat. Aside from loathing the man, he was simply fascinated by his ability to fill his wardrobe with such bright clothing.
It brought to mind that the male pheasants they would be shooting today had colorful plumages useful in attracting their mates. He chose to change his name from Peacock to Pheasant. When he shot one down, in his head, it would have Percy’s face on it.
Harry sidled up to him. “I should inform you that a murder cannot occur at my wedding.”
