Page 143 of The Good Duke
Simon made himself take a breath. For this wasn’t about him, and he owed it to Persephone to not let his envy overshadow her past pain and memories.
“He asked me to marry him,” she said quietly.
Simon stilled. His heart felt a peculiar way, that organ far past the point of pain to a dull numbness.
“But you did not,” Simon said as a reminder to himself, and to fill the void Persephone’s voice previously filled.
“We did not,” she confirmed. “I knew deep down he couldn’t. Future marquesses didn’t marry servants, at least not in real life.” Her shoulders lifted in a heavy-looking shrug that made a liar of her indifference.
“One day, his father came to me and informed me that his son asked him to sever our connection. The marquess indicated he’d been aware of his son’s…relationship with me.”
Like she feared meeting his eyes for the remainder of her telling, Persephone dropped her gaze to her knees.
“The marquess expressed his gratitude for my providing valuable services to all of his children, but that as his son had tired of me, my employment would no longer be required.” Anguish filled her eyes and broke his heart. “But for work well-rendered, he’d ensure me work and references that were both good as long as I never spoke of or came near his family again.”
Had the outcome been different, Persephone might have now been married to the dashing gentleman.
But his loyalty and love for Persephone proved even greater than his miserable jealousy, for he yearned to thrash her former sweetheart within an inch of his life and leave him alive only long enough to beat the bastard all over again.
“I was desperate to believe those words were merely the scheming of a powerful nobleman who didn’t approve of a match between me and his son the heir.” Her throat worked wildly. “But my belongings were swiftly loaded into a carriage. Even when my father died and I didn’t know where to go or what to do, I still didn’t feel the panic I did that day at the marquess’s.”
Persephone should have been cared for and safe. I should have been there when her father passed. I failed her…
Everything inside him hurt.
There should have been no dastardly rogue or villainous marquess, and the profound regret of that would never, ever go away.
Through the tumult, her voice continued coming. “Desperate, I looked for any sign of the man to whom I’d given my heart and virginity too. He wouldn’t let this happen. He loved me. A man cannot feign the love he showed me.”
Oh, God, I’ll not survive this telling.
“Or that’s what I’d believed,” she said with a sad, quiet cynicism left by the earl who’d broken her heart.
“And then I saw him. He stood in the library window, his arms clasped behind him, his face a perfect mask, and just stared at me the way he might a stranger.”
When she’d finished, Simon sat motionless, afraid to move, afraid to breathe, because when he did, he’d be transformed into a rabid beast who’d hunt down every earl and marquess, destroying each one in his wake until he’d slaughtered the pair responsible for Seph’s suffering.
Fighting his demons so he could be the rock Seph needed now, Simon rested his palm over hers.
She glanced up.
“He didn’t deserve you, Seph,” Simon said gravely.
“I know that. I did the moment the carriage pulled away. Knowing didn’t make the hurt any less painful.”
“No, I know. I…do.” He knew because at last, after a lifetime of not even acknowledging the truth to himself, Simon let himself accept he’d always loved Persephone. He’d loved her since she’d been a young girl with gangly legs. It was why he’d resented her when he’d not even realized he had.
She’d deserved better from her former love and better than Simon.
Every man had failed Persephone—including her father, who’d not ensured she’d be properly cared for after his death—and it left a bitter taste in Simon’s mouth, knowing he fell into the ranks of all those wrongdoers.
Simon broke the quiet. “I can kill them for you.”
Her shoulders shook with laughter, and a welcome lightness filled him that he’d chased away some of her sadness.
With a sigh, she rested her head against his shoulder, and it felt so, so good to be with her this way. He wanted to freeze this moment so it was the only one that’d ever exist and could carry on into eternity. “The devil already took care of one of them for you.”
“And the other?” Simon asked, feigning a casualness he didn’t feel. He wanted the name. Heneededthe name.
