“And heir to the Blackthorn dukedom,” Percival countered with a loud laugh.
“There needs not to be one where our generation is concerned,” Graham reminded him. “For I am the duke at present.”
“A childless duke.” Another loud, obnoxious laugh.
“A duke nevertheless.”
“And when there is no child at all?”
“Is this the true place to discuss such matters, cousin?” Graham challenged. “It is rather disrespectful, is it not?”
Percival’s arrogance flickered for a moment as he glanced at the Hawthorne family before clearing his throat. “Regardless, cousin, it is a pleasant surprise to see you. I did rather think you would hole up in thatroom of yours forever, playing at pretending the world does not exist.”
His words were dry and disdainful, and Graham did not get a chance to answer, for an announcement came over the ballroom.
“Dinner is served in the grand dining hall,” the butler called out. “Pray make your way.”
Percival gave one last look of arrogant confidence, before sauntering off. Up the staircase, he joined with another group of young lords, vacating the ballroom.
Graham turned back to Miss Hawthorne, his smile a wince. For a man who craved his isolation, he found himself inexplicably drawn to her.
“May I escort you to the dining hall, Miss Hawthorne?”
Again, surprise washed over her. She blinked. “Y-yes, you may, Your Grace.”
He offered his arm, once again catching the look that passed between Lord and Lady Hawthorne. Silent questions traded between them, questions he couldn’t figure out and knew it was not polite to ask about.
They walked up the staircase among the mass of guests, and walked the short hallway distance to the dining room. Much to his annoyance, as soon as he entered and sat down next to the Hawthorne family, Percival took a seat opposite him.
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Daphne with some other young ladies of her status, and his mother sat with the Dowager Countess of Eastward.
“Must you?” Graham bit out as Percival set up his napkin on his lap.
“Oh, dear cousin, Imust. For you cannot expect me to pass up the opportunity to converse with my cousin upon his first social outing in years.”
“Indeed not,” one of Percival’s friends said, sitting next to him. “It is indeed fine to see you here tonight, Your Grace.”
“I suddenly find myself wishing it was not that way. How strange.” Graham raised a brow at his cousin, letting him think of the exact reason for his words. Percival only frowned as others filtered into their seats around him.
“Shall we begin?” Percival asked, and Graham had a terrible notion that he did not only mean the meal but this battle of words they seemed to be caught in.
CHAPTER FOUR
Percival’s voice rang out through the dining hall, and Graham would not be surprised if every corner of the Smith residence could hear him.
He moved so animatedly that he almost sloshed his wine all over the lady who sat next to him with her husband, both of them watching him with wide eyes.
“And then he rode headfirst into the wall!” Percival crowed, laughing at his own tale. He sighed, shaking his head. “It is fortunate that Graham is dashing in looks, for his brains do him a disservice.”
“Percival.” Graham’s voice was sharp. “I think you have had enough wine, do you not?”
“Nonsense, cousin. I have plenty of stories, and they are not all regarding you.”
“Perhaps we should tell some about you,” Owen piped up. “Perhaps the one about your time in Farnworth stables, no?”
Further down the table, a young lady squeaked in response.
Graham did not need to think hard to make the connection, especially as Percival’s face flushed deeply, his mouth tightening in anger. On the glass he held, his knuckles tightened, turning white. Next to him, Amelia kept glancing over, clearly confused as to what the tension was, yet there was a gleam in her eye, as if part of her was entertained.
