Page 126 of The Good Duke
He’s unhappy? He is?
“I cannot walk beside you, Simon,” she explained, unable to keep that beseechingness from every word she spoke. “You know that. And you doing so puts me in jeopardy. You’re behaving as if we are friends—”
“Wearefriends, Seph,” he said, more insistently.
She shook her head. It was time to put an end to this—all of it.
Persephone held his gaze. “No, Simon. We are not,” she said bluntly. “Wewerefriends. Society does not permit friendship between men and women for reasons you and I already both discovered.”
“I’m…” Simon grimaced. “I understand.”
Persephone averted her gaze, and only after he’d continued ahead without her did she again look his way. Yet, as she moved at a slower pace behind him, Persephone looked not at Simon. Nor her former lover who’d ruined her and all hopes of a respectable future.
Persephone considered Simon’s prospective duchess and the only reason Persephone was here in London with him in the first place.
She wanted to hate Lady Isabelle. She wanted to find every kind of fault with the young lady that made her unworthy of Simon. Then maybe Simon would not marry the girl, and Persephone would not have her heart broken for a second time.
At that moment, Lady Isabelle wandered over to a nearby girl, who sat alongside the shore, dragging the tip of a stick along the grass like one tracing letters. A preoccupied nursemaid sat near the child, but all the servant’s attention was reserved for the embroidery in her hands.
Lady Isabelle sank onto her haunches and spoke words to the young girl.
A moment later, the forlorn child’s lips formed a joy-filled smile.
Lady Isabelle shared some of her offering for the pelicans with the girl and, together, they fed the birds.
At the sight of that kindness, tears formed a ball in Persephone’s throat. And a feeling so bittersweet permeated every pore in her body and wound its way through her entire being.
The same kindness Lady Isabelle possessed as a girl radiated from her person all these years later. Her status as a Diamond had not made her mean or unaware of people around her. Even the slight upon Astrid’s—and Persephone’s—name at the hothouse had merely been a forthright outburst from one unguarded and unjaded by life.
Persephone sucked in a shuddery breath. No, she could not hate Simon’s likely future duchess. She could only admire her.
It didn’t mean Persephone didn’tenvyher, just that Persephone now knew the young woman would not only make Simon a splendid duchess, but also a caring, loving mother and wife and—
She briefly closed her eyes.
When she opened them, Simon had reached the sister-brother pair.
Silas abruptly stopped his pacing and did a sweep of the area. He searched for her. She knew it but did not know for what purpose and did not care.
Persephone remained fixed on the man she’d loved from the beginning and would until her end.
Simon bowed over Lady Isabelle’s hand and placed a kiss upon her gloved fingers.
Persephone wanted to break that handsome couple, happily conversing, apart. She wanted to seethe and hiss like an angry cat.
I am going to die. I will not survive the heartbreak of losing Simon.
Simon was never yours to lose, a sad voice in her head pointed out. He’d always been her dearest friend and always would be, and as one she loved with her whole soul, she wanted him to marry a loving woman, worthy of him—even as it would kill Persephone.
The sooner Persephone did her work here, the sooner she could leave and work at assembling the pieces of her broken heart into something that resembled a functioning organ. She’d had it broken before and recovered. She could do so again. It was why she somehow found the resolve to head over and join the trio.
The moment she reached them, all eyes went to her.
Persephone dropped a curtsy.
Simon wore a smile.
Not because of Persephone, but because of Lady Isabelle, who glittered and shone like the Diamond society professed her to be.
