“Very spirited, Percy,” his mother said. “God speed.”
Percy hurried off and was not long in locating Lady Westmoreland. That pleasant lady had rather a soft spot for him, as she did like a gentleman who was a cooperative guest and Percy was strict in his manners. He made sure to always turn up in good time and he made himself available to escort a lady round a dance floor when needed. He would keep his eyes open at a musical evening and look appreciative. He would partner at whist, though he did not particularly enjoy the game. He was, as one hostess had aptly put it, handy to have around.
Lady Westmoreland’s permission to put himself down on the duke’s deranged daughter’s card was happily yielded. He was also in receipt of the information that her given name was Lady Felicity.
He swerved his way across the crowded room and presented himself forthwith to the duke and his daughter.
“Your Grace, Lady Felicity,” he said. “Mr. Percy Stratton. Lady Westmoreland has graciously given me permission to put myself down on Lady Felicity’s card, if she is agreeable.”
The duke looked him up and down. “Amister, is it?”
“I am the eldest and only son of Viscount Denderby,” Percy said, to assure the duke that he would have a title someday.
“Mister for now though, eh?”
Percy was not sure where this was going. It was no surprise that he only being a mister at this point in time had been noted. Itwassurprising, however, that it had been said out loud.
“Denderby? Who is Denderby? Never heard of him,” the duke said.
Again, how was one to answer?
“Well, I suppose I must keep my eyes on the goal,” the duke went on. “Launch this daughter out of the house and into somebody else’s as fast as possible. Then it’s just six more to go—my dream is within reach!”
“Really, Papa,” Lady Felicity said. “Mr. Stratton, my father likes to jest.”
“I do not jest, I mean every word. Seven daughters bleeding me dry, what else am I to wish for?”
“I’m sure I do not know,” Percy said weakly.
Lady Felicity handed over her card. “You’d best put your name down and begone before my father explains how he plans to bar the door against his daughters at Christmastime.”
Percy hurriedly scribbled his name down. He was hardly cognizant of the idea that it was the dance before Almack’s wretched idea of a supper. His thoughts were too full of the understanding that the duke really was deranged. He’d had his doubts—after all, thetonwas fond of exaggeration. But inthis case, it seemed thetonhad not gone far enough in their descriptions of eccentricity.
Lady Felicity might very well be deranged too, though it was too soon to say. It had been very strange that she’d found her father’s comments somehow amusing. Another lady would have sunk through the floor to hear her father espouse such ideas.
And then, what was she talking about when she pointed out her father would bar the door against her at Christmas? Somehow, she thought that funny too.
She certainly seemed as if she might be deranged, which was both convenient and a pity. It was too bad that such a lovely lady should be not quite right in the mind. On the other hand, it was essential to his plan.
As his thoughts began to settle, he realized that the dance he’d put himself down for was ideal. He would lead Lady Felicity into supper, and it would give him time to fully outlineOperation Sadly Hopeless.
He could not say where it would all go, but he instinctively felt that he had a better chance with Lady Felicity than he did with the other rather staid ladies he would dance with. After his encounters with Miss Sprig and Lady Jane, he would have to be careful in assessing the lay of the land. If he told too many ladies of the plan, it would likely get back to his father.
As for the Duke of Pelham, well, one need only keep well clear of that interesting individual. Percy would certainly work to keep his father away from the duke. A prickly viscount and a highly eccentric duke coming together could not be good for anybody, and his father had already expressed disappointment that the duke was not dead on the moors.
Percy made his way to Lady Violet for the first, all the while keeping his eye on Lady Felicity.
She was collected by the Earl of Rustmont. He hoped she would not be bowled over by that gentleman. He was aCorinthian of the first order. Percy found him really rather annoying, what with showing off his skills at everything, and being a handsome sort, and being an earl, and being ungodly rich, and pulling off the Oxford raised brow that Percy could never get the hang of.
As the raised brow was free and appeared urbane, Percy had spent a deal of time trying to work out how to get one brow to raise ever so slightly while the other remained where it was. His brows insisted on working as a team so whenever he tried it, he only ended up looking surprised.
Certainly, she would not be impressed by Rustmont’s title, his money, or his single brow-raising. Lady Felicity was looking like his best chance and he would not like her to drift in another direction.
Chapter Three
Felicity had alwayscongratulated herself on her good sense. She had assured herself of having a steady mind and rational temperament. She’d mainly measured things by her sisters.
After all, Grace went round practically unaware of her surroundings which so often led to a chance meeting with the floor. Patience never had the sense to wait, even when it was the only thing one could do. Serenity was always laughing or crying. Verity made up stories so full of holes they were no better than a sieve. Winsome always came to the worst conclusion. And then Valor, afraid of her own shadow.
