The Duke Read Online Free PDF Page A

yer continued immortality, lady,” Percy said, raising his cup.
    Lady Adella gave a parchment laugh. “Aye, indeed. I swore that I would cling to this world longer than Angus. He was exceedingly furious when the doctor told him that he was dying. If there had been any money left, I swear he would have burned it rather than leave it in my hands, poor old gouty bastard.”
    â€œI do wonder how he feels now, roasting in Hades, knowing that you’re here and I’m here.” Percy smoothed the bitter sarcasm from his voice as he added, “At least now I can visit Penderleigh whenever I wish to.”
    Lady Adella looked at her hands, at the teacup on the small table beside her, then grinned at Percy. “What would ye say, my boy, if I were to make ye legitimate?”
    Percy felt his blood suddenly pounding at his temples, but there was wariness in his voice. “Ye think to make up for years upon years of slights, lady? Old Angus would rise up from his grave and strangle ye.”
    â€œA fond thought, I can’t deny, seeing his shrouded old bones heaving out of that deep hole I buried him in. But ye can’t be blind to the advantages it would bring ye. What do ye say, Percy?”
    â€œAdvantages? Mayhap it would bring me a betterchance of wedding an heiress, but it would gain me nothing of anything here. The English duke would still have claim to Penderleigh and the title, would he not?”
    â€œPerhaps, my boy, but ye then would also have full claim to the Robertson name. I haven’t liked Davonan’s son called the Robertson bastard. It’s turned my innards. Come, Percy, don’t give me your devil’s stare. Ye know that I’ve never been one to mince matters or deny a truth. Who can know what may happen if ye become legitimized? Well, do ye want it or not?”
    Percy thought of the rather squat, myopic Joanna MacDonald, daughter and heiress of a wealthy merchant in Edinburgh. Unless his instincts had grossly misled him—which they hadn’t, he was sure of that—she was much enamored of him. Her priggish father wouldn’t be able to deny him. He smiled at lady Adella, his full, sensuous lips curving into a boyish grin that had brought many an unheeding female to heel and then to his bed. “Aye, Grandmama, I should very much like to be legitimate. I suspect even my creditors would be properly impressed. I do wonder what would happen to my claim to Penderleigh if my name were secured.”
    â€œMayhap ye should wonder what would happen were the English duke not to produce an heir?”
    â€œOr if the English duke were to fall ill, say, and not survive?”
    Lady Adella regarded her grandson with a malicious eye. “Och, my boy, the English duke is, I believe, a young man, not above twenty-eight years old—too young to depart this world without some outside assistance. As to heirs, the duke may already be wed and have a nursery full of hopeful brats. If not, there’s always the hopeful uncle or cousin. There’s always an heir somewhere in the woodwork.”
    â€œAcquit me of murderous designs, lady. I haveraised a question of speculative interest, nothing more. It’s but a game we’re playing. A game you started.”
    Lady Adella snorted in disgust. “Aye, and a question our dear Claude’s son, Bertrand, would ask were he not so lily-livered. One illegitimate grandson and one disinherited grand nephew. Angus be damned. He was always a fool and stubborn as a donkey leashed to a hay cart. I will tell ye, Percy, if I make ye legitimate and reinherit Claude and Bertrand, the English duke might very well find his soup poisoned even if he doesn’t budge from London.”
    He still felt the shock of surprise to hear this old woman speak so ruthlessly, with such spite, and the good lord knew he should be used to it by now. “Ye speak nonsense, Grandmama. Angus would never have reinherited Claude and