“I can sit here all day if necessary,” the viscount said.
Percy gave up his delay tactic and sat down.
“Well?” his father said. “You’ve been to Almack’s; you’ve had a look at every eligible lady in Town. What’s it to be?”
Now was his moment to spring the ruse on his father. He did his best to sound casual. “As it happens, I was very struck by Lady Felicity, the Duke of Pelham’s daughter,” he said. He gulped his coffee as that idea settled.
The viscount shook his head violently. “No,” his father said, “it cannot be her.”
“Why ever not?” Percy asked, hope growing by the moment.
“I simply insist. Anybody but her.”
This was a very convenient stance, and delightfully not one Percy would comply with.
“You said, as long as her father was not coming along with her, it would be fine,” Percy pointed out. “She is a duke’s daughter, she’s got a good dowry, and right in the beginning of this project of yours you demanded a lord’s daughter with money who was pleasant to look at. Remember? Because you said the estate could do with an infusion and you could not abide homely children?”
The viscount, never liking his own words flung back in his face, as it was a particular habit of his viscountess, harrumphed.
“She is everything you asked for,” Percy said.
“I know what I said!” the viscount shouted.
A footman clattered a plate on the sideboard, but Percy remained unperturbed. If a person was to be perturbed every time the viscount shouted something, that person would spend a great deal of their life dropping plates.
“Stratton,” the viscount said, “I failed to take one thing into consideration because it is an outlandish thing to have to take into consideration. After what I viewed last evening, Lady Felicity is out of the question.”
Percy presumed his father referred to the lady’s unusual behavior when she danced with Rustmont. “It was only a sneeze,” he said.
“You are so naïve,” the viscount said. “Her father the duke is entirely mad, you would not believe the things I witnessed!”
Of course, Percy would believe it. But he did not say so. “One cannot condemn a person by what they think of a parent,” he said. “That would be too unfair.”
“They can if they can see very well that the daughter has inherited her father’s tendencies. Do you see what that means? It is in the line—any children from a union with Lady Felicity will be just the same. I will not tolerate deranged grandchildren! We cannot have a deranged future viscount!”
Percy worked to keep the amusement from his expression. One, because most of the time they had a deranged viscount right now. Two, this was unfolding better than he’d ever imagined. He’d planned to be the hapless and hopeless suitor. Already, he’d convinced Lady Felicity to assist him. Now his father was gamely stepping in front of the footlights to engage in this farce of a play, turning his son into a doomed Romeo. The viscount would be Montague and the duke would be Capulet.
Percy was poised to be hopelessly smitten with a lady his father would not accept, even if she could be convinced to accept, which she could not. Unlike Romeo and his completely stupid situation, Percy Stratton was as safe from matrimony as a fish swimming free in the sea and would not need to kill himself over it.
“Father, I am entirely set on Lady Felicity. I did not sleep at all last night for thinking of her. I will not have anybody else. My heart is no longer my own.”
“Your heart is… get it back, you scoundrel!”
Percy shook his head sadly. “What you ask is impossible. There are things in this world that are beyond our control. Love will not be ordered to retreat at will.”
Percy bit his lip. He sounded very much the vapid philosopher with that idea.
“I forbid it. I forbid a match between you and Lady Felicity. I will not sanction it. I’ll cut off your funds!”
“Ah, that would be terrible,” Percy said. “I will be left to mope about the house day after day. However, I will persevere! I will not give up on love! Also, if I am destitute, I will be here in thehouse rather than out and about in the company of theton’sladies. You know, those other ladies you hope will catch my eye. But it matters not! I am all in for Lady Felicity!”
The viscount rose from his chair, knocking over a glass of orange juice as he did so. He whipped round to the butler, who was fussing with the sideboard as if he’d heard nothing at all untoward.
“Tell the viscountess I will see her at her earliest convenience!” he shouted.
His father stormed out of the breakfast room and stomped up the stairs.
Percy leaned back and sipped his coffee.Operation Sadly Hopelesswas off to a rousing start.
