“You’re a snake, Percy.”
He bowed. “Thank you. I take that as a compliment.”
“Don’t. And your plan won’t work, you know. Ned won’t pay you.”
He shrugged. “I suppose we’ll find out, won’t we? Nothing ventured, nothing gained, as they say. Now if you’ll excuse me, I think I’ll go put these in a safe place.” He headed down the stairs.
Damn it, she wanted to tackle him and snatch the drawers back, but that would be beyond foolish. He was larger and heavier than she and likely moved faster. She would only get hurt.
She leaned against the wall, listening to his feet echo down the stairwell. She couldn’t let him do this to Ned, but how could she stop him?
She closed her eyes. She would begin by telling Ned everything she’d heard this morning. She’d admit the damn silk drawers were hers and tell him she was willing to have Percy shout that fact from the rooftops. Then she would just have to trust her stick-in-the-mud reputation was enough to squash Percy’s salacious tales.
She definitely would not be sledding today.
She listened again—it sounded as if Percy was finally gone. Very well. She’d take the reticule down to the yellow salon and then retreat to her room to gather her composure and perhaps have a sustaining cup of chocolate.
Unfortunately, the duchess waylaid her the moment she reached the bedroom floor.
“Oh, Ellie,” her grace said, taking her arm, “I’m very much afraid there’s been a bit of an accident.”
“An accident?” Ellie’s throat closed up in panic. “Who’s hurt?”
“No, no, not that kind of accident, dear. Thankfully this is just a clothing disaster.”
“A clothing disaster?”
“Well, perhaps a blessing, really. Come, let me show you.” She started down the corridor. “I’m not perfectly sure what got into Sir Reginald.”
Reggie was usually very careful—or lucky. Ellie couldn’t think of anything he’d damaged in his thievery, aside from the occasional pull in a knit stocking. “Do you know whom the item belongs to?”
The duchess smiled. “You.”
They turned into Ellie’s room. Reggie sat on the floor by the pink upholstered chair, licking his paws. Next to him was Ellie’s pale yellow ball gown covered in dark paw prints as if Reggie had walked through mud before dancing on her dress.
“Oh.” Ellie picked up the gown. Not only was the bodice ruined, the overskirt was shredded. Reggie must have tried to sharpen his claws on it. She sniffed. “Do you smell fish?”
“Oh, I don’t think so,” the duchess said, throwing open the windows. Frigid air swept in along with a dusting of snow. “Maybe you’re just smelling what Reggie had for lunch.”
It was so cold in the room now, Ellie wouldn’t have been able to smell a pig farm. “Perhaps.” Not that she’d ever noticed an odor to Reggie before.
She turned the dress over in her hands and her heart sank. There was no way it could be cleaned and repaired in time for the Valentine birthday ball the day after tomorrow.
“I’m sorry, Ellie.” Her grace came over to pat her on the shoulder. “I hope you weren’t especially fond of that gown.”
“N-no.” Of course she wasn’t. She hadn’t particularly liked it when it was new, two—or maybe three—years ago. But it was the only ball gown she had.
“You must let me make reparations for my pet’s misbehavior.”
“Oh, no, that’s all right. I’m sure Reggie didn’t mean to damage the dress.”
“Nonsense. Whatever his intentions, the gown can’t be worn. I don’t suppose you have another?”
“No, but I’ll make do with something.”
Did the duchess shudder?
It didn’t really matter. If Percy went through with his threats, she’d likely not be welcome at the ball.
“I insist you let me have a new gown made up for you,” the duchess said. “I won’t take no for an answer. I even have some spare cloth that I think will be perfect for you.”
“But ...”
“Ah, here’s Mary now. Mary, get Ellie’s measurements, if you will.”
“But ...”
“Now don’t argufy, Miss Ellie,” Mary said. “Ye cannae wear this poor thing—not that ye ever should have been wearing it. It always made ye look consumptive. The wee cat’s done ye a blessing.”
“But ...”
Mary gave her a stern look. “Ye need a new dress and that’s the end of it. Now do as I tell ye, and I’ll make ye something that will have all the gentlemen wanting to dance with ye.”
“Yes, do stop arguing, Ellie,” the duchess said. “You are just wasting time, you know. Mary and I won’t let you out of this room until Mary has your measurements.”
“Oh, very well.” Ellie knew when she had lost a battle. She let Mary poke and prod and measure her with as much good grace as she could muster.
“There ye be,” Mary said finally. “I’ve got all I need, yer grace. Shall I take that poor rag on the floor with me then?”
“Yes, indeed, and do just throw it out. You can’t use it as a guide to fit the new dress.”
“I ken that very weel.” Mary’s brogue often grew stronger when she was experiencing strong emotions. “That sorry excuse for a gown fit Miss Ellie like a potato sack.”
Mary bundled the poor, maligned dress up and carried it off with her sewing box.
The duchess grinned. “I can hardly wait to see what Mary makes up for you. I know you’ll look beautiful in it.” She almost danced out the door.
Ellie glanced down at Reggie. He was snapping up what looked suspiciously like a bit of flounder from where the dress had been lying. “What just happened, do you know?”
Reggie did not reply; he was too busy eating.
“Beautiful day, isn’t it, Ned?”
Ned glanced down at Percy. Damn it, his brother-in-law looked bloody happy, always a bad sign. “It’s cold, but at least the sun’s out.”
They were on their way to the pond, following the path the servants had cleared through the snow. Ned had intended to escort Lady Juliet, but Ophelia and Lady Heldon had swept her up with them, obviously so Percy could have this opportunity to accost him.
Ned’s mood, which had not been good to begin with, turned darker.
He looked ahead. Everyone was strung out along the path. Mama and Father led the way, and Ash followed with Ellie—at least she wasn’t walking with Jack or Cox. Cox was a little behind her with Lady Juliet’s group, and, behind them, Jack strolled with Miss Wharton, of all people, and Mr. Humphrey and Miss Mosely. Perhaps Jack felt there was safety in numbers—or that the cold and multiple layers of thick clothing would deter Miss Wharton’s matrimonial ambitions. Ned and Percy brought up the rear.
Ned’s eyes went back to Ellie. She was laughing at something Ash had said.
She’d been right, of course, when she’d told him he had no authority over her. He wasn’t her brother, much as he wished he was.
He frowned. No, that wasn’t quite true. He didn’t want to be her sibling; he just wanted to keep her safe. Which, as she’d pointed out, he couldn’t do even if they were related.
He hoped she’d decide not to sled. Surely Father had persuaded Mama to think better of the idea—the insane, foolhardy, madcap—
“She’s rather beautiful once you know her secret, isn’t she?”
Ned looked back at Percy. What the hell was the man talking about? Oh, right. The woman Ned was supposed to be wooing, though he didn’t understand the reference to a secret. “Lady Juliet is very lovely.”
Percy waggled his brows. “That’s not whom you were looking at.”
This false joviality was a side of Percy Ned hadn’t yet encountered, though it was as unpleasant as all the man’s other traits. “I’m afraid I don’t follow you.”
“Ellie.” Percy’s damn brows jumped up and down again.
“What about Ellie?”
“Oh, come on, Ned.” Percy’s elbow dug in
to Ned’s side, though not very far. They were both bundled up against the cold. Still, Ned took the precaution of putting a bit more distance between them.
“I really haven’t the slightest clue as to what you might be referring.” Not that he liked the notion of Percy talking—or thinking—about Ellie at all.
“Let’s just say I have something in my possession that I think you’ll be interested in—something you might even be willing to, er, encourage me, in a monetary way you understand, not to mention or show anyone else.”
Ned stopped walking, thus forcing Percy to stop as well. “Listen to me, Percy. I have no bloody idea what you’re talking about, but you’d damn well better not be maligning Ellie or suggesting that she is anything other than the proper, virtuous young woman that she is.”
“Proper and virtuous?” Percy chuckled. “Is that the game she plays when she wears those red silk drawers for you? I do have them, you know. In a safe place, of course.” Percy looked toward Ellie. “I must say it is very ... stimulating to think about what she’s hiding under those hideous frocks. It fills my mind with all sorts of intriguing images.” He leered at Ned. “Are her legs long, Ned, and does she wrap them around you? Are her breasts plump and tasty?”
“Shut up, Percy.” A red haze of fury clouded Ned’s eyes. It was a wonder the snow at his feet didn’t melt.
“A little angry?” he heard Percy say. “Just remember that if you hit me, as I’m sure you’d like to, everyone will see and wonder at it. I’m afraid I might be compelled to tell them why you so forgot yourself. Sad that it would reveal Ellie’s, er, other side, but perhaps poor Cox and Humphrey should know before they continue to pay their addresses.”
“You will not sully Ellie’s reputation.” Ned had to grind the words out through clenched teeth.
“I suppose it might actually improve her reputation—not for marriage, of course, but for other ... pursuits.” Percy sniggered. “At least Jack won’t call her a stick-in-the-mud any longer.”
“Percy ...” Did the man not realize how close to death he was?
“I confess I’ve been wondering something since I found those lovely drawers. You Valentine brothers are so damn close. Do you share? Has Jack had a taste of Ellie, too? And Ash ... that must be why he doesn’t miss Jess or seek out any of the local girls. I’ll tell you, Miranda was rather insulted that he seemed uninterested in her overtures, but now perhaps I can reassure her—if you choose not to persuade me to remain silent—that she’s not losing her touch. It’s just that Ash already has a woman to attend to his needs. It makes perfect sense. He’s here all year, as is Ellie.”
Ned wanted to pummel Percy into a bloody lump so badly he was almost shaking, but that would only serve Percy’s purposes, whatever they might be. Later. He would make Percy pay later.
“If you don’t wish to die right now,” Ned said, “you’d best take your filthy lies and your filthy self away from me—and away from Ellie.”
“Very well, I will—for now. But do think about what I’ve said, my dear brother-in-law. I’m sure we can come to an agreement that would keep me from mentioning this to anyone. Of course the ... gift would have to be rather more than you were used to sending me, and you do understand I can’t give up the lovely red garment that I have in my possession. But pay me well enough, and no one need ever be the wiser.”
“I won’t pay you a bloody sou, you bastard.”
“No?” Percy shook his head, a false expression of pity on his ugly face. “I thought you cared for Ellie more than that.” He shrugged. “But I suppose you’re finished with her. Still I would think you’d prefer Lady Juliet not hear the tale. It might persuade her she’d rather not follow my sister into your damn bed.” Percy spat out the last words.
He couldn’t let Percy go down to the pond now and spread this revolting tale, but he couldn’t force himself to agree, even for a moment, to consider Percy’s terms. He would just have to beat the man insensate. He could do enough damage to Percy’s mouth to make speaking very difficult for the foreseeable future.
He smiled. That was a very pleasant notion.
Percy must have guessed the direction his thoughts had taken, since he quickly stepped out of reach.
“Very well, I can see your emotions are in a bit of a turmoil at the moment, Ned. And I confess I do like Ellie; I wouldn’t want to make life unnecessarily difficult for her. I tell you what—I’ll give you the rest of the day to consider my offer.” Percy waved his hand expansively. “No, I’ll even let you sleep on it”—he leered again—“and, perhaps, on Ellie so you can refresh your memory as to her delights. We’ll talk in the morning. I’m sure we can reach an agreement then.”
Percy paused, perhaps waiting for Ned to concur, but when Ned just glared at him, he shrugged and continued down the hill.
Ned watched him go as he tried to fill his lungs. The cold air hurt, but it helped clear the rage from his mind. He needed to calm down before he joined everyone at the pond.
Percy must have got the blasted red dra—the blasted garment from Ellie in the long gallery this morning. How? Ellie would never have handed it over willingly. The bastard had better not have hurt her.
Percy had almost reached the pond. The servants had a bonfire burning on the banks—far enough from the ice for safety, he hoped—and some people were gathered there to get warm and drink hot cider. Many had already ventured out to skate. Ellie was one. Ned watched her glide gracefully across the ice with Ash.
Damn it, Percy had done more than anger him—he’d twisted his mind, planting seeds of lust there. He never would have wondered about Ellie’s legs or breasts before, but now ...
He wasn’t very experienced with women. He’d married young and been a faithful husband, even though Cicely had been a little reluctant about the marriage act—not surprising as he was so much bigger than she—and then she’d conceived and been sick in the early days and large and uncomfortable later.
And after she’d died, he’d been too grief-stricken to take any of the offers he’d received from the local women. Even if he’d been interested, there was no such thing as anonymity in the country or any way to guarantee he wouldn’t sire a by-blow. He didn’t want to have to bring a wife home someday to live among former lovers and illegitimate children.
And he’d admit he was afraid of having another woman die giving birth to his child. He wouldn’t take on that risk lightly.
But he was male. He did have urges—he just shouldn’t be having them with regard to Ellie.
He started down the hill. He’d check on the bonfire, though it was too late to relocate it. Still, if it was too close to the ice, he could see people didn’t skate nearby. And he would be sure the area by the spring where the ice was always thin was adequately roped off.
He was close enough now to see Ellie smiling at Ash, her cheeks flushed, her eyes sparkling. Need struck him in the gut as hard as he would have liked to have hit Percy.
And then, damn it all, they turned and started skating toward the thin ice. Were they mad?
He started walking more quickly.
Chapter 12
Anger is sometimes frustrated desire.
—Venus’s Love Notes
Ellie loved skating: She loved gliding with long, strong strokes over the ice, hearing the hiss of her skates, and feeling the cold air rush over her face.
“Happy?” Ash asked.
She smiled up at him. “Yes.” Unfortunately she’d be much happier if he were Ned.
She glanced around. Where was Ned? He’d been at the back of the group with Percy when they’d left the castle. She’d been more than a little nervous about that, particularly when Ned hadn’t detached himself immediately from his brother-in-law, since she could think of only one thing they would have to discuss.
She and Ash skated along the pond’s opposite bank and then turned back toward the bonfire. She looked up.
Damn. Ned and Percy had stopped on the hill. Percy was talking; Ned was standing a
s still as a statue.
She tripped over a small bump in the ice.
Ash steadied her. “Are you all right?”
“Yes.” Clearly Percy was wasting no time in putting his extortion plans into motion. She hated that she’d given him anything at all to threaten Ned with. Well, she would speak to Ned as soon as she could and tell him not to agree to Percy’s demands, and then she’d admit to everyone that the scandalous garment was hers.
Her stomach twisted. If only she’d never made those cursed drawers. She would destroy them the instant she got home.
Ah, it looked as if Percy had finally concluded his speech. He started down the path to the pond, but Ned stayed where he was.
He must be furious. Why the hell did Percy have to be such a thorn in everyone’s side?
More couples had joined them on the ice—Jack and Lady Juliet, Mr. Cox and Ophelia, Mr. Humphrey and Miss Wharton, even the duke and duchess—and she’d yet to raise the topic she’d intended to with Ash.
“Let’s go over there.” She gestured toward the end farthest from the bonfire near the roped off area. She didn’t want anyone to overhear what she had to say.
Ash raised an eyebrow, but changed direction without argument.
“I’m sorry I haven’t spent as much time talking with you at this party as I usually do,” she said as the other conversations faded behind them.
Ash’s lips curved up slightly. “Don’t apologize. You’ve been making Mama happy by finally paying some attention to the eligible men she’s gathered for you.”
Ellie wrinkled her nose. “I’m afraid I’d rather have been talking to you than Mr. Cox or Mr. Humphrey.”
He sent her a sidelong look. “Cox and Humphrey aren’t the only eligible males here.”
“No, but you can’t think I’d be interested in marrying Jack!” She laughed. “Whatever you do, don’t mention that notion to him—he’d be horrified.”
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