Page 171 of The Good Duke
She’d loved him longer than she’d ever even acknowledged to herself.
I love you.
She’d loved him forever.
I love you.
She loved him so much she’d been willing to help him find the woman he wished to marry.
I love you.
Only to stand before Simon now and have him profess his love when he was but moments away from entering the dinner party she’d organized, so he could make clear to thetonhis intentions for Lady Isabelle.
Joy melded with wonderment and…an absolute sense ofrightness.
He loves me.
Tears made it impossible for Persephone to swallow or speak.
The truth of Simon’s declaration lived in his beautiful blue eyes—those eyes now locked and unblinking on Persephone.
The weight and wealth of the emotion there brought Persephone’s eyes sliding shut.
Theothertruth, however, remained just as strong.
If he did not move forward with a formal offer for Lady Isabelle—which was expected by all—it’d be the scandal of the ages. The world would believe the Duke of Greystoke strung along the Diamond of the Season—which, in a way, hehadinadvertently done.
He’d be reviled.
Lady Isabelle, the sought-after debutante, would become a castoff.
Simon’s rejection of the young lady would have devastating implications for the girl’s future prospects.
It’d be all society spoke about. It’d be the onlyon ditthe papers would write about.
And Simon, a man who valued people’s opinions and despised being an object of scorn, would become just that.
Oh, God.
Her heart seized up.
She hated that for Simon—her oldest and greatest and only friend. But she hated herselfmorebecause if she loved him as he deserved to be loved, the ugly fate which awaited him were he to sever his connection with Lady Isabelleshouldmatter most.
In the greatest contradiction, Persephone’s heart was nearly full to bursting and breaking all at the same time.
Simon spoke and shattered her careening thoughts.
“You haven’t said anything,” he said, his always sonorous baritone toneless.
Persephone took in a deep, unsteady breath.
“Simon,” she began.
Reflexively, she curled her fingers around the thick folio he’d handed her.
“I love you, Seph,” he cut her off. “Maybe you think I want Lady Isabelle because she fits with some image I had in my mind before I fell in love with you all over again.”
Before I fell in love with you all over again…
