Page 139 of The Good Duke
I wish I was a young girl again.
Plink.The pebble hit the water.
I wish time had remained frozen, and I’m still sitting beside Simon and watching for shooting stars.
The wishes continued to come.
Persephone hurled another rock.
I wish my father had never died.
And another.
I wish my father and Simon’s had never fought.
Out of wishing stones, Persephone, a woman possessed, scrambled on her knees and dug up a handful of pebbles and gravel.
I wish I hadn’t drawn him naked.
In the nighttime quiet, her breath came in short, ragged spurts.
Because no matter how much she’d loved drawing, she’d loved being Simon’s friend more, and she would have burned every sketch pad and torched every pencil if it’d meant they’d never been parted by her actions that day.
With a soft little sob, Persephone launched another stone.
I wish I’d never given myself to Silas, the new Marquess of Bute.
Because then there’d be no secret shame that she need spend her whole life running from. Then she wouldn’t have to hide in shadows and beg an old friend for references.
Frantically searching the almost dust within her palms for another wishing stone, and finding none, Persephone tossed the pile over her shoulder.
“I expect it’s the opposite of luck to have wishing stones hurled at you.”
Persephone gasped. The unexpectedness of that quiet murmuring sent her pitching forward on her hands and knees.
Her chest rose and fell hard and fast, and she stared blankly down at the soft emerald-green stalks of grass which had softened her fall.
“I’m sorry,” he said, and she saw his gleaming black boots slide closer.
Persephone came to on a rush of humiliated shame. “Simon!”
She made to scramble to her feet.
Simon waved a hand. “I’m quite fine. Just a bit of dust and rock, and certainly no less than I deserve.”
And then as Persephone reclaimed her spot on the damp earth, an uninvited Simon eased his tall, muscular frame onto the ground beside her. They sat there, shoulder to shoulder, her knees drawn up, his long legs outstretched, and stared at the pond ahead.
“I saw you from the library,” he explained.
And he’d felt compelled to follow her here?
“Unable to sleep?” he asked.
Persephone nodded.
“Me too.”
From the corner of her eye, she caught Simon reaching inside his jacket, and Persephone followed his movements.
