Page 151 of The Good Duke
Invariably, they’d always leant their voices to one another’s buoyant melody.
The sparkle in his eyes indicated he knew precisely what she was thinking.
They’d always been that way though, reading one another’s silent musings. Finishing one another’s sentences. Anticipating one another’s worries and then each easing one another’s fears.
But this time? This time, Persephone didn’t know the particular song he sang, and even thoughhe’dgathered the thoughts inherhead, she was at a loss of whathewas thinking or planning, or what brought about this easy smile he’d donned.
That easy smile dipped. An endearingly boy-like confusion sent his brow into a full furrow.
“What is it, Seph?”
“I don’t know where you’re taking me.”
“You’re not supposed to, Seph.” Simon dropped his voice to a whisper. “That’s why they call it a secret.”
“I don’t like secrets.”
“Bah,” he scoffed with only the absolute certainty a best friend could manage. “You love them.”
“Correction.” She shot a finger up. “Iusedto love them.”
As a child, she’d thrilled at the unknown. “I’ve come to appreciate secrets mean something all too different for grownup persons,” she murmured.
Persephone’s gaze fell to her lap, and she stared sightlessly at the brown wool fabric of her skirts.
For most women, any bit of information a man withheld was invariably a prevarication or lie—either outright or one of omission. Either led to a lady’s ruin, broken heart, or both. Persephone had been lucky to escape the former fate, but the longer Lord Bute remained part of her life now, the less likely it was her past would remain a secret. All secrets eventually surfaced.
“Seph?”
The sound of her name so solemnly spoken by Simon brought her head up.
He looked upon her with such tenderness she ached.
“Would it help if I told you this particular secret is the good kind? It won’t bring you any misery or trouble. I promise.” He crossed a finger at his well-muscled chest.
More of that earlier warmth settled around her heart.
“Or, that is, Ibelieveit is the good kind of surprise,” he muttered to himself in a distracted way.
Then, as though suddenly possessed by self-doubt, Simon peered troubledly out the window.
It’d become increasingly clear the sudden deviation from her and Simon’s agenda for the day had to do with something he had planned for Persephone. Whatever it may be, he’d put a great deal of thought into it.
Suddenly, the need to reassure him proved even greater than her own insecurities and doubt.
Persephone gave him a smile.
“If you believe it’s a surprise of the good sort, Simon,” she said gently, “then I’m absolutely certain it isn’t something that’ll upset me or cause me problems.”
His smug, confident grin of before was restored in a flash. “We shall see. Er…that is, if it’s a good surprise. Not the other stuff.” Simon waggled his eyebrows. “Either way, we’ve arrived.”
We’ve arrived.
Lost in thoughts of Simon and the wonderful way just his tone could make her feel, it was a moment before she registered his words and the fact that, at some point, the carriage came to a stop.
They’d arrived at their mysterious destination.
Simon exited his black barouche and helped Persephone down. Wordlessly, he held his elbow out.
