The sight set Graham’s nerves on-edge. How could they eat up his words that way? Percival’s laughter was very annoying to him, and he took a step forward, entering the room properly.
“And then I only went and ran my tongue, did I not?” Percival was laughing. “Oh, it was a joy to see such…” His gaze lifted to Graham, and his words died off, “anger…”
Graham slowly took another step, watching as his cousin’s face turned pale. Around them, the room fell silent. Percival’s smile faltered but he tried to compose himself. His expression flickered between nervous arrogance and confusion as he beheld both Graham and Owen.
“Good afternoon, friends!” Percival said, laughing off any worry he expressed on his face. “Graham, it must be at least five years since I have seen you frequent a place like this, is it not? Come, let me get you a drin—”
“You may cease your pretence, Percival,” Owen interrupted. “I believe you understand why we are here.”
Percival’s face flickered again before he let out a loud, forced laugh. “Well, you are in a gentleman’s club, so there is only one reason, and that is the same as us all, is it not?”
“No,” Graham answered, bracing his hand on the table Percival lounged at. “No, it is not. For my reason is far greater than anybody’s here. See, my reason involvedyou,cousin. You, and my wife.”
There was a rustling sound of movement around the room as men began to speculate, wondering if there had been an affair—or something far more sinister.
“See, Percival, at my own wife’s ball, you performed something of an outburst, and at the time, I was rather… affected, I might say, by what you had to declare about me. Deep in your cups, as you admitted, you proclaimed to know about a night that caused me great grief. I thought I might return the favour of a public speech, seeing as you are so fond of them.”
Graham cocked his head, letting his cousin think of what he might be about to say. But then he dropped his voice, low and dangerous, as he leaned in close. “What did you think would happen when you sabotaged mycarriage, Percival? When you purposefully tampered with it, did you think you would succeed at hurting me? Because you did, but not quite in the way you imagined. No, you left a helpless woman, a duchess, at that, lying in the rain, crushed beneath a broken carriage.”
His words were just loud enough that other gentlemen around them began to listen in, interested in the ton’s next big gossip fill. Graham thought he was going to give them a rather good story.
“What did you hope to gain, cousin?” Graham asked. Pushing away from the table, he raised his voice. “See, you were so full of words the night of the Blackthorn ball. Did they suddenly escape you when you found out it was only the duchess injured beneath my carriage?”
Silence filled the room so thickly, so uncomfortably, that even Graham, conductor of the whole confrontation, felt uneasy. But his glare remained fixed on Percival, waiting for him. His cousin’s face was one of utter shock as his mouth opened and closed but no noise came out.
And then he laughed, as if confused, as if Graham spoke nonsense. “I do not know what you speak of, Graham, but you do not sound quite all right, coming in here and accusing me so very publicly.”
“As you did to me,” Graham answered coolly. “Do you try to quieten me because you are guilty?”
“I am guilty of nothing.” Percival flicked his hand in a dismissive gesture, his lip curling. “Now, do go on home and rest, cousin, you look as though you have not slept in days.”
“You would be right saying that,” he said. “However, my mind is clear. I have not slept because I have been keeping vigil over my wife who almost did not make it through that first night after her carriage went off the road.”
“It is a shame when accidents happen, is it not?”
“Are you aware of a Master Thomas Jenkins?” Graham asked loudly, drawing the attention of the room once more.
Percival scoffed. “No, I am not.”
“You should. For as a lord is it not in your best interest to know the names of your own staff? Especially one as young as Master Jenkins. A young boy who not only delivered the message to me that night that my wife’s carriage had gone off the road, but also had been disguised as a newspaper boy. Having been in the employ of our aunt, Lady Victoria, only to transfer to your estate about a month ago, Master Jenkins knew you rather well. Well enough to place you as a man who tampered with my own carriage outside of Lady Victoria’s townhouse the night of the musicale evening held at her residence.”
“Placed me as a man who didwhat?” Percival laughed aloud. “Heavens, Graham, you truly must need some rest if you are accusing me of—well, what exactlyareyou accusing me of?”
Graham cleared his throat. “Lord Percival was crouched behind the carriage. I did not see what tool he held but he was tinkering with the duke’s carriage. After I saw him, he tossed the tool into some nearby bushes. I didn’t dare touch it, but when I heard that Lord Owen Radcliffe was making enquiries, I knew I had to say something.” He recited the witness statement as best as he could remember, and it was enough to strike more fear into his cousin. “And when Lord Owen here went to search those bushes around the townhouse, he found one such tool belonging to you. It is blunted, as if it had been doing something that it was not equipped for, with great force. You are not the handiest man if I am correct, are you, Percival?”
“Careful, cousin,” Percival seethed. Around him, members of the club shifted, moving, as if preparing to escalate.
“What did you intend that night?” Graham snarled. “All your talk of apologies, of playing nice was all lies, for you were only waiting, wanting to see us climb into that carriage, knowing that something would go wrong. Except you did not intend for it to be only the Duchess of Blackthorn. That is why you looked so surprised in the drawing room. You wondered why my wife had left alone. You wondered if something would happen.”
“Do not accuse me, Graham,” Percival snapped.
“I do not need to accuse you,” he answered quietly. “For being accused is to question a crime. I have no doubts about you tampering with my carriage with the intent to harm me, my family, or exact a worse fate.”
He watched a range of emotions scatter over Percival’s face—rage, defeat, shame, anger. And then it all collated into one, terrible sneer. “I would not have had to do anything drastic or damning if you had just done what you were supposed to do! You were supposed to stay out of society, to remain the reclusive weasel you always were. You were never fit for the dukedom, and everything was goingperfectly. You were staying out of the way, and I was charming the ton. They speculated that you had all but given up your responsibility, and many suggested I take over. Theylikedme! And then you returned—and not only that but you had to go and fall for the Hawthorne girl.”
“Percival, they like you because you all but beg for their attention. You have charm, of course, something I cannot claim to have, but I believe it is more pity that has you in the ton’s favour. They pity the poor, Lord Percival. They do not truly want you but think that your proximity to me will grant them good graces.”
“Good graces! Theydespise you, Graham. Why do you think they feed off you and your wife to provide their gossip? They do not respect you,they laugh at you. They mock you. They know what you do not: that you were never worthy of the dukedom, that your have squandered the legacy of your father, and every Blackthorn before you. Your wife will soon realize, as well, that she has married a worthless coward, but as rumour has it, she is not a great deal better so perhaps you are both perfectly suit—”
