by Alec, Joyce
A groan escaped Percy’s mouth as he ran one hand down his face, realizing that he had fallen into a deep sleep, most likely as a consequence of being greatly fatigued from last evening’s exploits.
“Who is it?” he grumbled, pushing himself up a little more in his chair as the butler pressed his lips together, a slight air of anxiety around him. “A lady?”
“Lord Greenford,” the butler informed him, and Percy groaned again, slumping back in his chair and letting his eyes close tightly. “What shall I say, my lord?”
Percy grimaced. Lord Greenford was someone he considered a friend, certainly, but he did not appreciate being woken from his slumber merely to entertain him. Had it been a young lady come to call on him, then Percy might have been grateful for her arrival and her interruption of his sleep but, as things stood, he would have much preferred to remain in the depths of his slumber.
“Very well, very well,” he muttered tersely. “Show him in.”
“And refreshments, my lord?”
“Coffee,” Percy grumbled, his eyes straying to the whisky and glasses that sat on a table in the corner of the room. He could not even think of liquor at present, and even the sight of it made his stomach twist. “Although should Lord Greenford wish for something else, then I will ring the bell.”
The butler inclined his head. “Very good, my lord,” he said, before departing from the room. Ignoring the pain in his head, Percy forced himself to rise out of his chair and, grimacing as he did so, walked to the mantlepiece so that he might look at his reflection in the mirror that hung above it.
The reflection was not a particularly pleasant sight. There were dark smudges beneath his eyes, his hair was entirely disheveled, and there was a paleness to his skin that spoke of his fatigue. His cravat no longer sat as perfectly as it had done before, and his jacket needed to be straightened.
“At least it is only you, Lord Greenford,” Percy muttered as his friend was shown into the room. “You will have to forgive my appearance.”
Lord Greenford chuckled and sat down in a chair, propping one leg up on the other knee. “I did think you would be a trifle unwell today,” he said as Percy turned from the mirror and went to sit back down in his own seat. “It appears I was quite correct.”
Scowling, Percy shrugged. “I may have indulged a little too much last evening,” he admitted, frustrated by Lord Greenford’s grin. “But it was my first ball of the Season, that is all.”
“You do recall what occurred, do you not?” Lord Greenford asked as the refreshments were brought in. “I should not like to remind you of the events that occurred if you already know what I am going to say.”
Percy waited until the staff had departed before he spoke, feeling a tight nervousness swathing his heart as he looked back uneasily at Lord Greenford. “What occurred?” he asked as Lord Greenford nodded. “You mean to say, something that I did that I do not recall?”
A spark of mirth came into Lord Greenford’s eyes. “Yes, indeed,” he replied, clearly aware that Percy had no understanding of what he spoke of. “It was with Lady Frederica?”
“Lady Frederica,” Percy repeated, musing over the name as he attempted to recall the lady. “I—oh yes, she is the niece of the duke, is she not?”
“Yes,” Lord Greenford replied, taking the coffee from Percy with a nod of thanks. “You were introduced to her and then requested her dance card.”
Screwing up his face, Percy tried his best to recall. “I did?” he asked, having only a vague recollection of the young lady. Had she seen him in his inebriated state? “I recall dancing a few dances, however, but none with her.”
“You did attempt to, however,” Lord Greenford said slowly. “You truly do not recall?”
“No!” Percy exclaimed, growing a trifle frustrated with Lord Greenford’s seeming reluctance just to tell him the truth of what had occurred. “I did dance with her, then?”
“You were somewhat inebriated by that time,” Lord Greenford told him as Percy froze in place, his hand halfway to his mouth as he held his cup of coffee. “You seemed to be aware that you were to dance with Lady Frederica, and thus made your way toward her.” The gleam that had been in his eye began to fade, a seriousness coming into his expression. “I could not help but follow you, for you were stumbling rather badly and at one point, looked as though you might fall.”
Percy closed his eyes with embarrassment, having very little recollection of such a thing. “I see.”
“You then went on to practically demand that Lady Frederica dance with you,” Lord Greenford continued, making Percy’s embarrassment grow all the more. “She refused, of course, for to agree would have meant that the mortification that would follow might have been severe.”
“I see,” Percy said again, letting out a long breath and passing one hand over his eyes, reaching to set down his cup of coffee. “I would not have been able to dance well, from the sounds of it.”
“If at all,” Lord Greenford added, although no smile lingered on his face. “I, therefore, insisted that you remain as you were and instead took Lady Frederica onto the floor for the dance.”
The tightness in Percy’s heart grew steadily as he realized just how foolishly he must have behaved. “I can only thank you for doing so,” he told his friend as Lord Greenford sipped his coffee. “I do not remember doing any such thing and to insist that Lady Frederica stand up with me when I was in my cups is more than a little mortifying to hear.”
“She was rather insulted,” Lord Greenford said gently. “I came to call upon you to suggest that, even if you do not recall it, it might now be wise to speak to the lady and apologize for your manner.”
Percy passed one hand over his eyes and nodded, swallowing hard as he did so. He had not meant to indulge in so much liquor but discovering the whisky and the brandy in the card room had meant an evening of far too much extravagance. “I will have to apologize, yes,” he muttered as Lord Greenford nodded sagely. “I thank you for coming to inform me of it. And for taking Lady Frederica to dance in my stead. I am certain I was not very gracious toward you last evening for doing so.” One look at his friend, at his raised brow and the wry smile on his lips, told Percy that he was correct in his estimation. A sigh left him as he rubbed one hand over his eyes, irritated that he had made such a fool of himself. “I apologize.”
“It is quite all right,” Lord Greenford said waving his hand in a dismissive manner. “I did remain near to you for the rest of the evening, I confess, simply to make certain that you would not do such a thing again—but you only appeared eager to make your way back to the card room where you remained for some time.”
“And drank a good deal more, no doubt,” Percy muttered, knowing that he could not even recall returning to his house.
“You went into the gardens at one point,” Lord Greenford replied with a shake of his head. “Although you were not alone. Lord Faraway and Lord Blakely accompanied you, although neither were as much in their cups as you, I am afraid. I did follow, to make certain that all was well, but you appeared to be quite at ease. Lord Blakely was absent for a few minutes but soon returned.”
Percy winced again and shook his head. “I should never have let myself get into such a state,” he told Lord Greenford. “I shall not do so again. As disagreeable as this may sound, I do hope it is only Lady Frederica that I have insulted?” He searched Lord Greenford’s expression, worrying now that he had done something more to some of the other guests, but much to his relief, Lord Greenford shook his head.
“I believe you will find yourself a little lacking in coin, however,” Lord Greenford said, a little uncertainly. “I know that you were busy playing cards last evening and there were a few vowels exchanged—but I confess I did not know precisely what had occurred.”
“I will find out,” Percy promised, not wanting to remain in debt to anyone. “But now, I suppose, I should make myself as presentable as I can and make my way to the Duke of Ellsworth’s townhouse.” He pushed him
self out of the chair with an effort and went to the mirror once more, grimacing as he looked back at his reflection. He would have to ring for his valet to come and fix his cravat and certainly he would have to do something about his hair.
“I will see you this evening, perhaps?” Lord Greenford asked, now also on his feet. “Are you to attend Lord Merseyside’s soiree?”
“I am,” Percy replied, promising himself silently that he would not touch a drop of liquor that evening. He turned back toward his friend. “I thank you, Lord Greenford.”
Lord Greenford smiled and inclined his head, although there was a slightly weary look in his eyes that Percy did not miss. “But of course.”
“And I shall give you no cause for alarm this evening, I promise you,” Percy said as Lord Greenford chuckled. “Any whisky or brandy or the like offered me will be soundly rejected.”
“I will see you this evening, then,” Lord Greenford said, walking to the door. “And might I wish you the very best of luck with Lady Frederica.” He chuckled and Percy grimaced as he glanced back at his reflection once more. “I fear you are going to need it.”
* * *
Walking into the drawing room, Percy took in a deep breath and set his shoulders, his hands clasped lightly behind his back as he took in the scene before him. Both Lady Frederica and the Duchess of Ellsworth had risen at the same time and had now dropped into a curtsy, which, of course, Percy returned with a bow. However, when they both lifted their gaze toward him, he could not escape the dislike that lingered there, or the distrust that was so very evident on their faces.
“Good afternoon, Your Grace,” he began, “and to you also, Lady Frederica. I am grateful to you both for being so willing to permit me into your presence.”
“Please, Lord Wetherby,” Lady Frederica replied, looking back at him with a gentle coolness in her expression. “Do be seated.”
Percy sat down with relief, glad that he was not about to be thrown from the house in disgrace, even though they had every right to do so. “I thank you,” he said as Lady Frederica reached to pour the tea that had been brought in the moment he had entered. “I know that I have behaved rather poorly and should very much like to apologize for my actions, Lady Frederica.”
Lady Frederica said nothing for some moments. Instead, she focused entirely on pouring the tea for the three of them and in setting it out, one after the other. Percy was grateful for her consideration, of course, but found that, such was his anxiety, he could not even think of drinking the tea at present. All he wanted was for both the duchess and Lady Frederica to hear his apology and know that he was sincere. He had made nothing but a fool of himself and that, he was certain, was plain to them both.
“I thank you,” he murmured as the tea was set down before him. “You are very kind, Lady Frederica.”
The look in her green eyes was a trifle unsettling. There was a coldness there that he could not pretend was not present and her smile, although apparent, did not reach her eyes. She was, he realized, a rather lovely creature, with her golden curls and emerald eyes, but the lack of warmth in her expression certainly did not encourage him toward her.
But that is all entirely your own doing.
“I confess that I do not recall all that I did,” he continued, before either the duchess or Lady Frederica could speak. “I was, I presume, very rude.” He picked up his teacup. “You were, I am certain, very gracious, Lady Frederica.” Taking a sip of his tea, he felt the silence fall between them and his heart twisted in his chest. Were they to say nothing at all? Were they just to leave him as he was at present, struggling to find the words to say whereby he might improve the situation between them all?
“Lord Wetherby,” the duchess looked back at him steadily, her brows low, “you were very rude indeed to Lady Frederica last evening. She, of course, had the strength of character to rebuff you and chose to do so without hesitation.” A tiny smile flickered about her lips although it was gone in a moment. “You did not take too kindly to such a refusal, however, which was why we were both all the more grateful to Lord Greenford.”
Percy dropped his head. “Lord Greenford is an excellent gentleman,” he agreed, embarrassment searing his heart. “It was he who came to inform me of what I had done, else, as I have said, I would have been entirely unaware of it.”
Lady Frederica let out a sigh, shaking her head as she did so. “You were foxed, Lord Wetherby,” she stated calmly. “You expected me to dance with you and appeared most agitated when I refused. To have done so would have only caused great embarrassment, and that was not something I was willing to endure.”
“But of course,” he replied, setting his teacup back down in the saucer with a rattle. “I came not to express any sort of irritation toward you, Lady Frederica, but rather only to apologize for my own foolishness and arrogance that was so obviously displayed last evening, as well as to beg your forgiveness for any embarrassment that was brought to you. If there is anything that I can do in order to improve matters in any way, then please only speak the word and I will do it at once.”
Lady Frederica held his gaze steadily, her eyes calm and unwavering as she listened to him. Percy sat back just a little, his words at an end as he found nothing further to say. Lady Frederica picked up her teacup and took a small sip, setting the cup back down and then exchanging a glance with the duchess.
“I appreciate your eagerness to apologize,” she said quietly. “It is a little frustrating that you cannot recall for yourself all that you did, Lord Wetherby, but I must hope that you will not behave so toward either myself or any other young ladies again.” She gave him the smallest smile possible, although her eyes remained very cold indeed. “I am grateful to you for your willingness to attempt to reconcile.”
Feeling as though he had been given a stern talking to, Percy dropped his head and closed his eyes for a moment. “I can assure you that I will never behave so again,” he promised her, lifting his head and seeing the doubtful glance shared between Lady Frederica and the duchess. “One such evening is more than enough for me. I have seen the error of my ways and feel such a great shame that it is almost more than I can bear. I am very grateful indeed to Lord Greenford and have told him so without hesitation.” He rose to his feet, feeling that his visit was now at an end. There was very little more for him to say. “I shall not impose on your kindness any longer, Your Grace, Lady Frederica.” He bowed low, just as they both rose to their feet. Neither of them protested that he did not need to depart so soon. Instead, they both appeared to be more than contented to see him leave their company. “I do hope that you have a pleasant afternoon.”
“Good day, Lord Wetherby,” Lady Frederica replied, before the duchess made her own farewell. “And I thank you again for your willingness to come and apologize in such a manner.”
“It was the very least I could do,” he told her before turning smartly on his heel and walking from the room.
3
Frederica let out a sigh of relief as Lord Wetherby quit the room, then looked toward the duchess, who was finally taking her seat again.
“Well,” she began, slumping back in her chair. “That was an unexpected visit.”
The duchess laughed softly, her eyes twinkling. “Not too unexpected, I think,” she said as Frederica’s brow lifted in surprise. “Lord Greenford, I knew, would inform Lord Wetherby of what had occurred, for he appears to be an excellent gentleman, and of course, in order to stay in both your own and society’s good graces, Lord Wetherby would do his utmost to apologize just as quickly as he could.”
Frederica shook her head to herself, picking up her teacup so that she might take another sip. “It is frustrating that he did not remember a single thing about his foolish behavior,” she said as the duchess nodded. “I should have preferred it if he had recalled what he had done, for then the apology would have been a good deal more sincere.”
“I do not think it lacked sincerity, Frederica,” the duchess replied as Frederica finished
drinking her tea. “The gentleman was clearly ashamed to know of what he had done and what he had demanded of you and has resolved never to do such a thing again.” She looked back at the vacant chair where Lord Wetherby had been sitting. “When he spoke, I was certain there was nothing but earnestness in his words and his expression. It was clear to me, at least, that he meant every word.”
Considering this for a moment or two, Frederica eventually conceded. “I suppose that it must be so, if you have seen such a thing in him, Louisa,” she replied, a wry smile on her lips. “I confess I am still a little angry and therefore inclined to judge him more harshly.”
“At least you are able to admit such a thing, although certainly I do not blame you,” the duchess replied, smiling back at her. “I doubt very much that Lord Wetherby will have any great intentions of seeking out your company again, however. You gave him something of a set-down.”
“I did, yes,” Frederica replied, a giggle escaping her as she recalled how sharply she had spoken and how Lord Wetherby had dropped his head. “I did not mean to add to his shame, but I did want to speak openly about what had occurred, especially given that he had no recollection of it himself.”
“I think you spoke very well,” the duchess replied, just as a knock came at the door. “Come now, let us set all thought of Lord Wetherby aside. It appears you have another afternoon caller, my dear.”
Frederica chuckled and sat up a little straighter as the duchess called for the butler to enter. This afternoon had been already quite busy with various callers and she had to confess that she had enjoyed it all thus far. Even Lord Wetherby, she reflected, as she rose to her feet. Something in her had been glad to see him, had been contented to know that he had been unsettled in hearing what he had done and had, therefore, come to apologize profusely. Not that she intended to have anything akin to an acquaintance with the gentleman, of course. As far as Frederica was concerned, Lord Wetherby had proven his character to her already and she did not think him either a reliable or a suitable acquaintance. Many other gentlemen in London would be much better suited to her company and her acquaintance. That thought brought Frederica a good deal of contentment.