Epilogue
EPILOGUE
P ercy rapped on the front door of Northampton Manor, the London home of the Earl of Packley, the instant it qualified as reasonable visiting hours the next morning. Well, Percy thought, feeling just a tiny bit peevish, it was perhaps slightly before reasonable visiting hours.
Percy wanted Packley on the back foot, that was the thing. Not just because he thought that showing up at a somewhat unexpected hour would help Percy get all his demands agreed to. And it wasn't even just because he was eager to have signed contracts decreeing his upcoming marriage to Marina as soon as possible—though that was, of course, foremost on his mind.
It was also that Percy wholeheartedly believed that Packley deserved to suffer as much unpleasantness as Percy was able to deliver.
The night prior, in the moments after their passionate lovemaking—although best not think of that right now, Percy told himself sternly, lest he, ahem , react— Marina had told him the rest of the story of what had happened at the house party and her cousin's deplorable behavior. Percy had stiffened with anger when Marina told him of the increasing threats that Packley had issued, and only his lapful of warm, sated woman had kept Percy from rushing off to punch Packley, as well.
It was likely for the best that he hadn't; Percy was certain that a third punch in a single night would have broken his hand, and he wanted that hand available for touching his beautiful, glorious bride-to-be.
The butler opened the door to Northampton Manor with the ever-so-slightly reproachful manner that British butlers always seemed to put on whenever anyone breached the dictates of propriety in even the slightest manner. When Percy produced his calling card, however, the man's air became sternly admiring.
Nobody respected the hierarchy of the peerage like a butler. Dukedoms, Percy thought, were alas good for something.
Percy was hurried into the earl's study, and only moments later Packley came rushing in, as well, crumbs from his breakfast lingering at the corner of his mouth. Percy declined to inform him of this. He also declined to shake the man's proffered hand.
"Your Grace," said Packley in that weaselly tone that Percy hated twice as much now that he knew the depths of the man's sins. What lunatic would dare mistreat his lovely, perfect Marina? Percy acknowledged that he might be somewhat biased in this assessment, but still. It had been Packley's responsibility to care for her, and he had fallen miserably short.
"Did we have an appointment scheduled for this morning?" Packley asked. "I do beg your pardon if I have been remiss. Perhaps the letter scheduling the appointment has been waylaid? In any case, I apologize most deeply—"
"No," Percy interrupted. Packley could likely go on like this for another five minutes or more, and Percy simply did not have the patience for it. He withdrew a packet of papers from his breast pocket. He had woken his solicitor up at such a dreadful hour to write them up that Percy would have to send the man a handsome bonus for his troubles.
"Sign this," he ordered Packley, without preamble.
Packley reached out to take the papers, a small frown on his face. "Contracts?" he said. "While I am so pleased to see your eagerness, Your Grace, I've had my solicitor drawing them up, and they should be ready…" Packley trailed off as he began to read. "This is not about our business," he said.
"No," Percy agreed. "I'm marrying your cousin. Sign."
Percy knew he was supposed to ask. It was the proper thing, to ask permission of a lady's guardian. But Percy simply could not bring himself to ask anything of this wretched little man. Marina's guardian? That was a laugh. The thing she had needed guarding from most was Packley himself.
If Packley took offense to Percy's rude attitude and refused to sign, Percy would happily pummel him until the man gave in, broken hand be damned. Or he could appeal to Richard to come do it for him; his friend always had some lingering frustration that needed a productive outlet, and what more productive outlet existed than giving Packley what he rightfully deserved?
Yet, as he'd suspected, Percy needn't have worried. Packley's greed for proximity to prestige and power had him grabbing at the marriage contract like it might be snatched out of his hands if he wasn't careful.
"Oh!" Packley exclaimed, reading over the contract too hastily to absorb its contents in any great detail. Despite how it pained him to do so, Percy had included a small settlement for Packley in the contract.
Marrying Marina was more important than anything, and far more important than the dent to Percy's pride that came with offering Packley anything. Percy noted the avaricious gleam in Packley's eye when he came to that portion of the contract. He didn't manage a full breath, however, until Packley scrambled for a pen so hastily that he nearly knocked half the contents off his desk and scrawled his name in the designated space at the end of the contract.
"I must say," Packley stammered, waving a hand at the document to dry the ink. "This is a most pleasant surprise, Your Grace. I did not realize that you and my cousin had taken a shine to one another, but it is the most delightful turn of events, I assure you." The ink was dry enough. Percy picked up the papers, folded them carefully, and returned them to his breast pocket. Packley continued to ramble. "I am so very pleased to have a man such as yourself in the family—"
"Stop." The papers were safe, the legalities attended to. Percy no longer needed to appeal to this sniveling disgrace of a man.
"I beg your pardon?" the earl squeaked.
Percy smiled icily. He'd been looking forward to this part.
"I am not your family ," he said, letting all his hatred leak into his tone. "Marina is joining my family. The dowager countess and Lady Julia will be coming to live at my properties and will be under my care." Packley's expression was cautious and confused. This part, at least, was what he had wanted—to be free of the responsibilities of caring for his kinswomen. What a disgusting disgrace of a gentleman, Percy thought. Those responsibilities were an honor .
"You are not to think of them," Percy went on. "You are not to speak to or of them. If they enter an establishment where you are located, you are to politely nod and then leave."
"I don't understand…" said Packley, voice vaguely tremulous.
"You have been remiss," said Percy. "You have mistreated the woman I love—" He saw the flicker of surprise that crossed Packley's face as Percy admitted his feelings. Of course Packley would be surprised, Percy thought. The man was incapable of love for anyone but himself. "—and for that, there will be consequences."
"I—" Packley said, but Percy blazed past the interruption.
"Consider our business agreement cancelled as of this moment," Percy said, relishing the dismay that hit Packley like a brick. "You will not enter into any schemes with me, nor with any of my associates." Percy would have to find a way to make this up to Joseph, who, he suspected, could have used the blunt, but it would be easy enough to find a way to do that without Packley.
" Why ?" asked Packley, the question little more than a piteous cry.
Percy glowered at him.
"Do you think me a fool?" he asked lowly. "Do you think I would not find out the way you have treated Marina? Do you think I would stand for such cruelty towards my future wife?" He advanced a step and, even though there was a desk between them, Packley took an instinctive step backwards.
"Did you think that you could bully and shame her and then turn around and earn a profit off her connections, her marriage?" The expression on Packley's face said that he had thought exactly that.
"You have been remiss," Percy went on. "You have been derelict in your duties and have shown yourself to be a man without honor. And because you exercised your cruelties on those with less power than you, you thought yourself to be untouchable. Well. I am here to disabuse you of that notion."
"But—but—" Packley stammered.
"No," said Percy. The man did not deserve to get out one single word further. "Hold your tongue and consider how lucky you are that I have let you off this lightly when you deserve much, much worse.
"As it stands," Percy concluded, "as soon as I marry your cousin, which I hope to do as quickly as possible, I see no further reason for any of us—myself, my family, your aunt, your cousins—to ever see or hear from you again." Percy turned to leave, then looked back as a final thought occurred to him.
"And," he said, "if I hear even one whisper of you mistreating or speaking ill to, around, or about Marina between now and when we are wed, I will return and make you wish you had never been born. Good day, sir."
And Percy left, a gobsmacked Packley standing behind him.
Damn, but that had felt good. Percy was feeling very optimistic about his day when Marina came around the corner. Instantly, the morning grew even brighter.
"Hello," she said in pleased surprise. That was all she got out before Percy swept her into his arms and kissed her soundly, not caring that someone might see. When he finally pulled back, she looked even more pleased—and a little dazed.
"Hello," she said again.
"You look beautiful," Percy said, feeling nearly giddy. He'd had a bright and early morning, gotten to threaten a dreadful lout, and now was kissing the woman he loved. The day truly was shaping up well. "And I would love to dally and do more of that, but I have an appointment to keep." He kissed her once again for good measure, then continued his journey down the hallway, feeling the oddest impulse to whistle.
"Where are you going?" Marina called after him, laughter in her voice.
"To see the archbishop!" Percy turned around and shot her a wink. "Don't make plans for Sunday."
And then he decided to whistle anyway, manners be damned.
In the end, they were married on Saturday. It wasn't as conventional, to be sure, but Percy was able to acquire the special license by Saturday, and Saturday came before Sunday, and as both parties were eager to be wed as quickly as possible, the unconventional route was taken.
This choice also annoyed Martin, which held no small appeal for the affianced couple.
The dowager duchess, who was quite in her element planning a wedding on short notice, put up a feeble protest. One more day of planning would mean the event could be grander, more elaborate.
"You'll be married for the rest of your lives!" she'd exclaimed as they'd sat around the parlor in Percy's London home, Marina's mother a bit bemused, Lucy clearly thrilled to her bones, and Marina trying her hardest not to blush furiously every time Percy sent a heated glance her way.
"Yes," said Percy. "The rest of our lives—starting Saturday."
The dowager had tried to look stern, but Marina caught a glimpse of her hiding a smile.
For anyone besides Marina Fitzgerald, Saturday was somewhat overcast and perhaps just a touch chillier than one might hope for. For Marina, however, it was the most beautiful day she had ever seen.
For all that the dowager had lamented the short notice, the ceremony was beautiful, with half the ton assembled. Nobody wished to miss the event which already was touted to be the wedding of the Season. "The first of the four dukes has fallen," echoed the whispers amongst those who had gathered, tones almost reverent. "Which one will be next?"
During the wedding breakfast, Marina spotted the Duke of Culton's face as he overheard a gaggle of matrons speculating on such matters. His normally exactingly proper expression faltered as his eyes widened with dread. Marina couldn't manage to stifle her giggles.
"What's that?" Percy asked, leaning even more fully into her. He'd scarcely been an arm's length away from her the whole day.
"Joseph—" The Duke of Culton had given his best friend's bride leave to use his Christian name, but Marina still felt as though she were doing something terribly reckless whenever she used it. "—seems horrified at the idea that he may be the next of the 'four dukes' to fall."
Percy chuckled and pressed a kiss to her temple. Marina thought she heard a nearby woman sigh wistfully. "If he knew how good it felt to fall," he murmured, just low enough for Marina to hear, "he wouldn't look nearly so sour about it."
Marina leaned her weight more fully into her new husband's side, delighting in his bolstering strength. How good it felt, to have someone to rely upon. To have someone for whom she could care for and be cared for in return.
"Do you think it will happen for him?" she asked, watching as their friend struggled to keep up his polite facade as he was surrounded by the group of matchmaking mamas.
"Oh, certainly," said Percy. "I can't wait for us to see it."
The newly minted Duchess of Haddington, delighted at the idea of the adventures they would have together, could not resist pulling her husband down for a kiss.
The End?