Page 100 of The Good Duke
“Forgive me.” She dipped her gaze respectfully and dropped a graceful, elegant curtsy that would have impressed the Queen at court.
“Introductions are in order. My name is Miss Persephone Forsyth, I am His Grace, the Duke of Greystoke’s, ward,” she said before Simon did something so foolish as to discuss the topic of mistresses with not one, but two young ladies in public, and a lily-white babe to boot.
Relief immediately filled the young mother’s lovely features. “Lady Lilian Parker,” she returned with an also respectful curtsy.
Lady Parker looked at Simon. He swept a deep bow. “An honor, my lady.”
The pair exchanged pleasantries a few moments more when a restless Hew started to squirm and sniffle. Making a quick but polite goodbye, Lady Parker scooped her babe up and continued on her way.
While Persephone stared after the departing pair, Simon found his gaze drawn back to the woman who’d invariably rescued him from one embarrassment or another.
Streams of sunlight poured in through the high windows of the brick building and cast an ethereal glow about her that bewitched him.
And yet there was an air of sadness to her radiant features. Not for the first time, he found himself yearning to wipe away the cloud of gloom that had fallen over her.
As if she felt his eyes upon her, Persephone glanced over. At finding him watching her, a delicate blush stole across her cheeks. “What?”
And because he surely couldn’t say the first thoughts in his head, he said the other.
“You were very good with him,” Simon murmured.
That effectively drew Persephone out of whatever melancholic moment had claimed her.
“I’ve had many charges who had younger siblings,” she explained, returning her attention to the roses around them.
She’d been taken advantage of by employers who’d stolen services from her. He fought to rein in his rage as an ugly, insidious thought slithered forth.In what other ways had previous employers abused Persephone…?
Simon flexed his fingers several times. He’d end them. All of them.
An imagined scene played in his mind: Persephone grabbed by some lecher and forced to…
A low growl escaped him.
Persephone plucked a full, vibrant peach-colored rose from the basket and made to draw it near her face but stopped that pretty flower halfway to her nose. She looked at him with a question in her eyes. “Did you just…growl?”
Yes.“No,” he lied through tightly clenched teeth. “It was the dog.”
Simon’s pup whined and looked accusatorily at him.
Persephone glanced at the white ball of fluff and then turned a frown on Simon. “She said you’re lying.”
“She doesn’t talk. Dogs don’t talk.”
Yap-yap-yap.
Persephone let out a sound of exasperation. “Well, now you’ve gone and offended her.”
“I do not like knowing you’ve been taken advantage of, Persephone.” He clipped out each terse syllable. Despised it. Abhorred it. Loathed it with every fiber of his being.
“Oh, she couldn’t take advantage of me, Simon. As you pointed out, she is just a dog, a loving, beautiful, dear girl, but still a pup.”
“I’m not talking about the dog,” he snarled.
Before he detected the glimmer in Persephone’s eyes, the anger went out of him. “You’re jesting,” he muttered.
“I’m attempting to lighten the mood,” she elucidated.
“It’s not helping. You were hired as a matchmaker for their daughters but were required to provide additional services for their unruly children.”
