Page 136 of The Good Duke
Years Earlier
London, England
The day Persephone met Silas, she’d been in the schoolroom with Lady Issy and her older sister, Lady Henrietta. They were enacting—rather loudly since the Marquess and Marchioness of Bute were gone—Othellofrom The Great Bard.
Subsequently, Silas had returned to Branton Manor to see his siblings without the torture of seeing his father.
Persephone had been voicing the part of a witch. “Bid her come hither—go!”
“N-Never!” Issy cried.
“What? You dare betray me?” Persephone’s snake-like hiss thundered.
“Please, stop,” Henrietta cried.
Silas had burst into the room at that moment, no doubt hearing his sisters’ cries.
“Stop! You harridan,” he blurted. “You are fired!”
Henrietta glared at him. “Do not call Miss Forsyth a harridan ever again.” As if to cement her warning, she placed a swift and painful kick to his shin.
He grunted and hissed with pain. “Henrietta.”
Issy delivered a kick of her own, with a force and strength better suited a grown man, and stuck her finger in his face. “Orsack her.”
Persephone gave her head a slight shake. “Issy,” she gently scolded.
Silas had grimaced as he rubbed his shins, but that wry turn of his lips melted into a grin. “It does not escape me that your less than timely, but certainly not at all severe chastising of my vexatious sisters comes only after they’ve each taken skin off my shins,” he dryly noted.
Persephone felt a smile tug her lips.
“This is true, my lord,” she murmured with a tried solemnity. “They are not, however, the ones who interrupted our scene.”
Silas wrinkled his brow. “Scene?”
“Yes, you dolt,” Henrietta snapped. “As in our scene fromOthello.”
“You wereperforming?” he asked.
“Shakespeare, my lord,” Persephone explained, recalling the gentleman’s attention.
“I’m familiar with the Great Bard’s works, Miss Forsyth,” he said, a smile in his voice.
“If that was the case, you’d have recognized only some of the most famous verses ever,” Henrietta pointed out.
Among the many restraints the marquess and marchioness placed on their daughters, acting would absolutely fall on the list of forbidden lessons or activities for proper ladies. Persephone might well and truly be sacked if the earl told his parents that day.
“Oh, Silas, it is most wonderful,” Issy piped in happily. Like a young debutante who’d fallen in love with her first beau, she clasped her hands at her heart.
“Or it was,” Henrietta shot Silas an annoyed look. “Untilyouwent and ruined it.”
As if to emphasize her bigger sister’s reproof, Issy delivered Silas yet another kick, catching him unawares—again.
Persephone desperately fought a smile. “Issy, we do not kick,” she gently reminded.
“But, Miss Forsyth,yousaid we may kick or punch a gentleman when the situation merits it. This situation certainly merited it.”
“That isn’t one ofthosesituations Miss Forsyth spoke of, Issy.” Henrietta spoke with all the beleaguered annoyance only an older sister could manage for her little sister.
