Page 98 of A Duchess to Fight For
There was silence in the room. Neither Cecil nor Kent doubted the sincerity of Percy’s conviction.
“So, if I just heard you right, if Louisa rejects you and becomes betrothed to another man, you will move to America? You won’t run into her on the streets of Boston, her hand resting on her husband’s arm.”
“Yes, that is the plan.”
Cecil asked, “What about your titles and holdings?”
Percy shrugged. “I’ve thought of that. Since I have no siblings, I’ll forfeit everything to my cousin. He’ll be thrilled. I have more money in the bank than I’ll ever need. There isn’t much I have spent money on, so it keeps piling up. I’ll be fine.”
“You’re that unhappy?” Kent asked.
“I can’t keep living my life this way. I can’t sit around waiting to see her with another man. I can’t eat dinner alone every night at White’s once the two of you marry. There are too many things I can’t do. And if I can’t do them, I don’t see how I can be happy.”
“Have you a plan to win her back?” Cecil asked.
“Not really. Either she wants to be with me, or she doesn’t. I’ll go to tea every day like I used to if she doesn’t turn me away. It won’t take long to figure out how she feels about me. Either she wants me, or she doesn’t.
“I’ll go see Hobart and get a better idea of America and what it would be like if I moved there.”
Cecil asked, “Will you eat with us every night and keep us informed about what you are thinking? I can guess Kent feels the same way. Cecil turned his head towards Kent, who nodded. ”But I don’t want you to go.”
“I do feel the same way,” Kent said.
*****
Jacobs brought Percy his correspondence to Percy’s office. He was opening and shutting the drawers of his desk getting aggravated when he opened a drawer for the third time and didn’t find what he was looking for.
“Jacobs, I can’t find the sealing wax. Do you happen to know what I did with it?”
Jacobs walked over to a small chest, smaller than a humidor, and brought it to Percy.
“You wanted to keep the tools used for missives in one place.” He opened the box and placed it on Percy’s desk.
“Now I remember. Awful idea. I’ll keep them in the drawer like before.”
Jacobs bowed, “Your Grace.” He left the room.
Percy picked up his correspondence. From the handwriting on the front of each letter, he could tell whom it was from. Invitations to balls and other ton events, his steward, his solicitor, Hobart, Frederick, Cecil, and handwriting unfamiliar. He opened that one first.
To Percy Sinclair, Duke of Gordon
Please accept an invitation from me to meet at White’s for dinner. I’ll explain all during our meeting if you will indulge me.
Regards,
Harold Newton, Earl of Pembroke
‘Well, that was unexpected,’ Percy thought. He wrote back to Harold, asking if Wednesday evening at 7 p.m. would be a convenient day and time to meet for dinner. He sent a footman off with a note.
His solicitor had regular business concerns that needed his approval to act on. Easy enough.
His steward wrote again about the state of Gordon Castle. Percy wished there wasn’t so much on his mind. He would have to go see him within the next month or two. He’d pledge that in a missive to him today.
Cecil wanted to know if he was ever coming out of his townhouse again. The missive was curt. He could throw that one away.
Hobart wanted to meet with him about what goods the ton would want from America. Percy thought Cecil and Kent might have ideas on that also. He’d arrange an informal meeting.
And Frederick wanted to talk to him about Louisa. Preferably, at Percy’s townhouse or in a private room at White’s.
