Chapter 12
Oh, she hated that Percy was injured, but at least it was not serious. Still, she remembered how it was to be stuck while everyone could move about as they pleased and it was the very reason she would not abandon Percy.
What Percy needed was a cane.
Yes! A cane, which she had.
Ever since it had been purchased for her when she was healed enough to walk, Deborah had kept it with her always, especially when traveling, just in case it was needed.
As the doctor was saying his goodbyes, Deborah hurried up the stairs to her chamber to retrieve that very item, hoping that it wasn’t too short for his height, and returned downstairs only to find the parlor empty of everyone except Percy who was slowly making his way out of the room.
“They have all gone into dinner.”
“And they left you alone?” she asked in outrage. Someone should have at least been by his side in case he fell.
“I am limping along just fine,” he chuckled.
“Until you trip on a rug or something.” Obviously, no one at the house party had ever suffered an injury that made it difficult to get about. Thank goodness she had come here instead of Danby Castle.
“I went to retrieve this for you.” Deborah held out the cane. “It served me well.” She smiled.
Percy first looked at her hand and the cane and then up at her face, his blue eyes warm, loving.
“Thank you, Deborah.” He reached out and took it from her, his fingers grazing hers as he stared into her eyes.
The heat of his touch, the awareness, need and longing filled her and Deborah had to blink and look away.
Why couldn’t he have wanted her?
Why did she still want him when he had rejected her?
Why was she such a fool?
Yet, she couldn’t leave his side while he was injured because he had not left her.
“It can be difficult at first to find the right balance of using a cane to keep weight off a leg,” she explained, not that she would likely be able to catch him if he started to fall, but she could try. “I will remain by you until you have got the hang of it.”
Percy chuckled again.
“Shall we go into dinner?” she asked brightly.
“Yes, I suppose we should.” Except, he did not attempt to walk, simply stared at her.
Deborah’s face heated and she wished she knew what he was thinking but his blue eyes had darkened and his smile was gone. He wasn’t angry or upset, but more intense.
A shiver snaked down her spine and she couldn’t help but remember the last time he had looked at her in this manner. It had been right before he had kissed her.
Would he attempt to do so now?
The corner of his mouth quirked as he looked up.
Deborah followed his gaze only to realize that they were standing in the middle of the doorway, directly under the mistletoe.
Her pulse pounded as her body heated and then she looked into his sapphire eyes again and tried to determine his intentions.
“I was beginning to wonder where the two of you were,” her brother demanded as he came from the dining room. “It has taken you long enough.”
Percy stiffened and drew himself up as if he might need to defend himself, which was ridiculous, of course.
“It takes longer to walk with a cane and I was not going to leave Percy behind,” Deborah explained. “There was no need to come looking for us.”
Peter stared at Percy, who narrowed his eyes on her brother.
Her brother then noted where they stood and the mistletoe and his jaw tightened.
Percy remained stiff as the knuckles on the hand holding the cane grew white from pressure.
“Come along,” Peter ordered. “I do not want to eat cold soup, nor do I dare leave the two of you alone under mistletoe.”
He turned around and marched away, leaving Deborah and Percy to follow.
Was Peter afraid that Percy might kiss her?
What objection could he possibly have and why would he even think Percy would want to do so?
And why did there appear to be such animosity when she had thought they were friends. At least they had been until Peter began to pursue Johanna.
Was it more?
“Is there something between you and my brother that I am not aware of?” she asked quietly once they’d been seated.
“Nothing more than your brother being overprotective of a younger sister,” he answered.
“I had not thought Peter so foolish,” she murmured.
The two were behaving drastically different than the last time the three of them had been together, as if something had ended a friendship that the two had shared for years.
That would explain why she hadn’t seen the two of them together last spring.
She had assumed that it was because of Peter’s courtship of Johanna.
What could have possibly happened to take them from friends to near enemies? And which one should she ask?
Percy had been touched by Deborah’s kindness and concern, which meant that she couldn’t truly hate him.
And for those moments they had stood under the mistletoe, he had been drawn to kiss her, as if her lips beckoned and if he wasn’t mistaken, she wanted to be kissed.
Her breath had grown shallow as her lips had parted.
In fact, he had been on the verge of leaning forward to do just that when Peter interrupted them.
Peter wasn’t foolish. He simply didn’t trust Percy to be alone with Deborah.
Nor should he, Percy reluctantly admitted.
Still, had Peter allowed him to explain a year and a half ago, Deborah could very well be his wife.
Instead, his former friend had basically given him the cut direct and had not acknowledged him since that day.
Not until they were both in attendance at the same house party.
However, that did not change Percy’s intentions. He no longer cared what any Storm or duke thought. He was going to win Deborah.
When the ladies left the men to port and cigars, Percy sipped and planned and every once in a while, caught Peter studying him. Was his former friend thinking of pummeling him again for even thinking about kissing Deborah or had he decided that an injured knee was enough?
Percy could barely contain his sneer then looked away and sipped.
No, he would not be on good terms with his future in-laws, assuming Deborah would have him, but Percy did not care.
His home and father’s estate outside of Llandudno, Caernarfonshire, Wales, was far removed from Kenley Manor located near Alnwick, Northumberland, England.
Two hundred and fifty miles and a sennight of travel depending on the speed of the horses and means of travel.
“You are very quiet this evening,” Wingate observed. “Are you being contemplative or does your knee pain you? We do have laudanum.”
“Both, I suppose,” Percy answered then lifted his brandy. “This shall suffice in dulling the pain.”
“Shall we join the ladies,” Wingate said as he pushed away from the table. “I believe my wife has planned games for entertainment.”
His announcement was met with groans. No doubt most of them would prefer to remain here and drink brandy all evening, but since they weren’t at White’s or any other Gentleman’s Club, it would be rude to remain away.
However, Percy was slower to stand because he wasn’t ready to walk and as his friends walked by, only Peter looked at him, but it wasn’t with anger, more speculation and a study of him as if Peter was planning something.