Page 125 of The Good Duke
She shook her head so quick, he chuckled.
Alas, he’d already found a place inside her head.
Her breath caught, and she was powerless to the sordid memories that demanded to be remembered—of her sprawled across his desk. Or Simon expertly working her with his fingers and bringing her to a beautiful climax as she’d wrapped her hand around his long, thick shaft and given him a release at the same time.
Her eyes slid shut, and her entire body went flush, and not for the first time that morn, she gave thanks for the cover provided by her bonnet and parasol.
When Persephone forced her eyes open, her gaze collided with the beautiful young woman in the distance—a virtuous young lady with her maidenhead intact, who’d never dared allow a man to kiss her, let alone taken two lovers in her respectable, honorable life.
Simon’s wife. I am but a short distance away from the woman he’ll marry.
And, Persephone, like some horrid strumpet, stood lusting after the same woman’s future husband, while Persephone’sfirstlover completed their company.
For the first time, she let herself wonder how her life might have been different had she not succumbed to Silas’s seduction.
Tears pricked her lashes and shame threatened to swallow her up. Without so much as another glance at Simon, Persephone made herself keep walking.
Whatever happened from here on out, she’d face it head-on. With that resolve, Persephone brought her parasol back on her shoulder, pushed her bonnet, and made herself look squarely at the pair in the distance.
“I told you so,” Persephone said when Simon at last fell into step. Her voice sounded thick to her own ears. “Lady Iss-Isabelle is waiting.”
He rejoined with a slight clap. “Thereit is.”
Persephone frowned. “Therewhat—?”
“You know, it is a wonder you can see as much given you’re buried under the world’s largest bonnet and even more sizeable parasol,” he drawled.
“I told you—”
“So,” he finished for her. “Yes, I know.”
“I wasgoingto say it is rude and disrespectful to keep a lady waiting.”
“That bonnet and parasol are ridiculous, Seph,” Simon casually noted.
“My bonnet?” she repeated. Her hand-me-down hat that a former student left behind at Mrs. Belden’s.
He nodded. “And your parasol,” he added.
This is what he’d say? This was really what they were discussing now? She opened her mouth to chastise Simon when she caught the mischievous sparkle in his ocean-blue eyes.
When in blazes had he become soflippant? Particularly about something so important as finding his duchess, a celebrated Diamond of the First Water.
“This is not a game, Simon,” she whispered.
The levity faded from his eyes, and his smile slipped, ushering in a solemn mask. “Seph?”
“Can’t we please just do this?” she implored, broken enough to beg.
“Of course,” he said quietly. “Yes, I’m sorry.”
I’m sorry.
How many noblemen, let alone a duke, apologized to women in their employ…or for that matter, to anyone. But Simon had never been like the other noblemen. He’d actually been the only noble one among them.
And it was killing her that their time approached its finite conclusion.
“Will you please go on ahead?” she asked when he still did not move, just continued to stare at her in that unhappy way.
