Page 164 of The Good Duke
He’d waited their entire lives to tell her exactly what lived in his heart, and if she still did not share those sentiments, he’d spend each and every waking moment doing everything in his power to make her love him at last.
Simon closed that last space between them, so their boots touched.
He slid his palm about her nape, and he felt her muscles soften.
Her endlessly long eyelashes fluttered.
“Seph,” Simon began solemnly, “I need to tell you something. Something I should have said long ago.”
Persephone stared at him expectantly. “Yes?”
Simon released a steadying breath. “I—”
One of his footmen chose that absolute worst of time to hurry over to retrieve the packages from Simon.
Bloody hell.
Silently cursing that untimely interruption, Simon hurried to hand the ribboned boxes off to the young servant.
When he’d gone, Simon tried again, and this time he didn’t blurt out his words of love but delved into their past. “I still remember the day we met, Seph,” he said wistfully.
Persephone smiled. “We were ba—”
“Iwas five,” he interjected. “In preparation for our first meeting, my father sat me down and went through his expectations of me. He knew I wouldn’t want to have a little girl about, especially one who was younger than me, and promised after we met, I would be free to go about my way.”
Enrapt, she listened on as if Simon revealed the deciphered contents of the Voynich manuscript.
“My father was right,” he mused. “Before you and your father even arrived, all I could think about was how much I wanted to avoid that meeting and how I couldn’t wait for it to end.”
“You were just a boy, Simon,” she said gently. “You—”
He pressed a fingertip against her lips, silencing the remainder of that absolution. “I couldn’t wait for it to end, Seph, because I hated being around anyone other than my father. I was so nervous about life and with people and was mortified by my stammer. All I wanted was to hide away from the whole world.”
Her eyes bled with hurt—for him. “Oh, Simon,” she whispered.
Simon cupped her face in his hands and lowered his brow to hers, so their eyes met. “Until you, Persephone.” His throat worked. “The day you stepped into my life, it was like…everythingwas suddenlyright. You were three, but by God, you may as well have been three going on thirteen. You could have talked circles around London’s best barristers.’”
He sucked in a shaky breath.
“When I was with you, Persephone, I wasn’t lonely anymore. And I couldn’t be afraid because when you were near, you brought only happiness and light into my otherwise very dark and lonely existence.”
Tears filled her eyes.
Simon reached up and dusted away the errant drop that slipped down her cheek.
“Please, don’t cry,” he implored. “I hate it when you cry.”
He’d rather splay himself open than watch her suffer.
“I-I’m not.” Her voice broke and another two drops fell, making a liar of her.
“Seph,” he begged, continuing to dust those crystal remnants away, only for them to be replaced with others.
Persephone sniffled loudly. “They a-aren’t s-sad tears, Simon,” she said, her voice thick.
“I hateallyour tears, love.”
“What about the ones when I laugh so hard, I weep?”
