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“I was going to have this refilled at White’s, but there’s still some left. Here. From the looks of you, you need a drink.”

Percy took the silver flask his friend offered and upended it into his mouth, draining it of its contents.

“You were fighting,” Cecil noted, busying himself with lighting a thin cigarillo.

He nodded his head toward Percy’s red and scraped knuckles, and Percy flexed them in response, feeling for the first the soreness there.

“Tell me something, Cecil,” Percy encouraged. “What happened to your sister last season?”

The question earned him a raised brow and a questioning look as Cecil drew another drag.

“She came out to society,” Cecil said slowly, then offered a shrug, “and failed at finding a match.”

“Why?” Percy asked quickly.

Cecil flicked his cigarillo, dispelling some of the ash.

“Did not like her choices, I suspect,” he said simply.

“What happened with Thomas Quinley?”

Cecil laughed at that, but it only put Percy more on edge.

“That old cod,” Cecil murmured. “He was more persistent than most. I even tried to persuade her to change her mind about him. She would not go for it, though. I told Bacon Face?—”

“Stop,” Percy growled, the command leaving him before he could put forth any thought. “You willnotcall her that again.”

Cecil raised his right brow slowly as he blew out another stream of smoke, the hand holding his cigarillo slowly lowering to his side.

“I thought you did not care about her.”

The statement was not said with malice, and somewhere in the back of his mind, Percy recognized that. But… it did not stop the rage inside of him from transforming from a drip, to a full-on stream. He didnotcare about her. He couldn’t. She would not die because of him.

After taking a moment to gather himself, Percy pulled his mask of indifference back on, and he forced a knowing smile to spread across his lips.

“I care about my reputation,” he replied. “And as my friend, you should understand that me courting someone who is now being publicly humiliated because of a name you coined for her is neither good for me nor your family. It would do you well to remember that when you are throwing around such monikers.”

“Throwing them around?” Cecil retorted defensively, “I would never?—”

“Quinley called her that,” Percy interjected, and Cecil went rigid. “It was funny when we were children, Cecil, but now, it is just deplorable slander—especially since there are now others calling her that. That was why I punched him. It is the principle of the matter, Cecil.”

Agitation was written all over Cecil’s face as he seemed to struggle to find the right words to say.

“You struck him?” he asked through gritted teeth.

Percy nodded.

“Twice for good measure.”

Cecil smirked devilishly.

“Good.”

His smirk formed into a frown as he then looked Percy directly in the eyes.

“You swear to me that it was on principal you did this and not because you have feelings for her.”

“Madeleine and I are not… ‘affectionate’ people,” Percy said though even as he did, he began to doubt if it were true. “Our match is well suited by understanding, not love.”