Page 130 of The Good Duke
Simon, whose devout focus had been on Lady Issy, shifted to Persephone. Even with all the many feet between them, she caught the glint in his eyes that had gone hard.
She bit her lower lip. He was upset? Him? A duke with the world at his feet and his future bride at his side.
“Silas!” Lady Isabelle’s cry rang out once more. “Miss Forrrsyth!”
The marquess offered Persephone an elbow. “Come, Phee, you know she will not quit until we join her.”
No, the willful, wonderful girl would not, and that was why Persephone placed her fingertips upon her former lover’s sleeve and allowed him to guide them over to his sister and the man who would forever hold Persephone’s heart.
Chapter 24
Despite Lady Isabelle’s far younger years and recent debut, she’d proven witty and clever. She didn’t giggle or fawn or remain silent and wait for Simon to lead any discussions. She read—and had an impressively solid grasp—on Shakespeare’s works.
She wasn’t stuffy or so primly proper as to be dull. They’d traded jokes, hers the manner that made a person think.
Hell, she’d even tested him with Diophantus’s riddle, a mathematical problem that’d taken him several goes, and for it, Lady Isabelle hadn’t been ingratiating. The lady hadn’t gone out of her way to soothe a potentially bruised ego and instead teased him for his struggle with the riddle.
Yes, by the ease with which Simon and Lady Isabelle had gotten on, Simon’s afternoon outing with the lady could only be described as a great success.
So why sat he broodingly across from Persephone Forsyth…a silent Persephone, who’d been that way with Simon from the moment they’d taken their leave of Lord Bute and Lady Isabelle.
Just like before, in the carriage ride earlier, Persephone didn’t have one word for Simon.
A muscle rippled along his jawline. The same, however, couldnotbe said of Persephone and Lord Bute. While Simon squired Lady Isabelle around the Serpentine, Persephone and the roguish marquess had been completely preoccupied with one another.
Every time Simon had stolen a glance the pairing’s way, they’d been so engrossed, Persephone had never spared Simon so much as a look.
Now, she stared intently at the passing London landscape while he scowled like a schoolboy.
Simon looked at the slumbering pup at her feet. Though, in fairness, neither had Persephone paid a jot of attention to Astrid.
I’m in the same company as a bloody dog.
It’d only beenLord Butewho’d commanded all Persephone’s notice this day.
Simon studied her reflection in the windowpane. Did the lady, in fact, even now daydream about the dashing marquess?
Simon balled his hands into tight fists in gleeful thought of pummeling the marquess who since boyhood had been graced with elegance, self-confidence, and charm. Unlike Simon, who’d not truly become comfortable in his skin until just a handful of years ago. Then it occurred to him—thatandonlythat accounted for his annoyance at Persephone woolgathering over the affable rake.
“You are lost in thought, Miss Persephone,” Simon drawled, looping his right ankle over his opposite knee. “Nothing to say after my first outing with Lady Isabelle?”
For the confusion that creased Persephone’s brow, Simon may as well have spoken in tongues.
Finally, she looked at him. “I…yes,” she said so woodenly Simon believed he could have just asked her to step out of the moving carriage and she’d have given compliance.
“The lady is lovely,” he continued.
“She ismostbeautiful.” Persephone spoke like a proud mama.
He frowned. “She’s quite skilled at math.”
Surprise lit Persephone’s eyes, offering the first glimmer of anything where Simon was concerned that morning. “Indeed?”
“Oh, yes,” he murmured. “Very adept. She put mathematical problems to me that took me several tries.”
Persephone’s expression grew wistful. “That makes me so happy, Simon.”
And goddamned if she wasn’t, and all because of the woman who’d likely be his duchess.
