Saving Percival (The Cousins Book 3)

Chapter Eight

"So. Your young man has arrived."

Standing in the middle of the library, Christianna felt like a child about to be scolded. Her great-aunt didn't even look at her as she spoke. "Yes, ma'am," the young lady said respectfully, choosing her words with care. "It seems he hired one of the Bow Street Runners to find me."

That caught Great-Aunt Eliza's attention. "Did he now?" she asked in a disapproving voice, tutting and shaking her head. "Well, well. Bold of him."

Oh, dear. Her great-aunt had taken an instant dislike to Percival, and they hadn't even met yet. She wondered if there was any way to change her opinion and make her see him in a more positive light. "He cares about me and wants to understand what happened five years ago, why we were seperated," she explained.

"Is he an imbecile, then? I thought it was obvious what happened. He was an unsuitable parti for you to marry and your father removed you from the situation. Simple enough."

Christianna's face flushed in response to the straightforward answer. "It is not as simple as that!" she protested. "Sir Percival was not unsuitable. I rather thought he suited me better than any other man I met."

"Why?"

Startled, Christianna blinked. She opened her mouth to answer, but she couldn't think of what to say. How did one go about explaining Sir Percival? He was an odd individual, but she couldn't say that without it sounding so very terrible.

"Is that why you like this Sir Percival, because your father did not?" Miss Steit asked, her tone still disapproving. "Was this some sort of rebellion on your part?"

"Absolutely not!" That, at least, was easy to answer. Before she had met Percival Ormund, her parents had no idea who he was. They hadn't taken offense until he sought her out at each event. "I would have been glad if my father had given his approval for Sir Percival to marry me."

Her great-aunt made a hum of disbelief. "Well, since it doesn't sound as though he is particularly bright, he must be exceedingly handsome."

"I didn't choose him for his looks!" Christianna objected. She paused, realizing how it sounded. "That's not to say he is not handsome. He is. But I wouldn't marry someone just based on how the man looks."

This time, her great-aunt just looked over with one raised eyebrow. "Very well then. So, he's not unattractive? What else do you appreciate about him?"

Christianna nervously shifted from foot to foot, her eyes watching the rain pummel the window. She silently prayed that Percival was safe and dry at the inn. "I appreciate that he doesn't pretend to be something he's not," she said honestly. "He was awkward and didn't try to hide it. He said what he meant and did what he wanted."

"Sounds like a selfish man who doesn't think about others."

The reminder of Sir Percival's blunt statement was an unwelcome one. "Perhaps that's true," she said slowly. "I think he simply doesn't know how to go about in society. People make him nervous."

Did she imagine it or did her great-aunt's face soften? Just a little bit?

"His parents didn't teach him how to conduct himself in society?"

"As far as I know, he and his father had a difficult relationship and his mother is a bit..." What was the right word for Lady Ormund? "I suppose the kindest word would be silly. His mother wouldn't let him go to school since he was frail as a boy. He was isolated for much of his childhood, from what I understand."

"Humph." Her great-aunt turned her attention back to her dollhouse. "So you felt sorry for him?"

"Well, a bit. In the beginning, at least," Christianna replied with a sigh. "How could I not? Other gentlemen and ladies mocked him behind his back. He needed someone to help him learn how to behave in public."