Page 72 of The Scholar's Key
“Very well,” he said. “No moping.”
* * *
Percy sat miserablyat the dining room table, unable to conjure even a false smile. She was completely at odds with the rest of her dinner companions, composed of her family and Lord Stephen’s.
Even the return of her brother could not bring mirth to her countenance. She could sense his frown at her from down the table, for he knew her well, and was aware when she was bothered.
Lady Jane and her parents had accompanied them, for which Percy was happy, as she knew what it likely meant – and, from what she could tell, Lady Jane seemed amiable enough. Percy just hadn’t managed enough interest to make her acquaintance. The woman likely thought her horrible, but she couldn’t help it. Not at the moment.
She stared at Lord Stephen across the table, a large smile on his handsome face as he charmed her mother. She tried desperately to picture a life with him, but the only man she could see beside her was Noah. Noah as he looked since she had helped him change his appearance and countenance, or Noah from before. She honestly didn’t care – if only he could see the truth in that.
She was grateful that her father had not yet asked her for a decision as to marriage to Lord Stephen, for she had no idea what she would say. The truth as to why she had not yet answered was because she had reasoned if she couldn’t have Noah, did it matter who she spent her life with?
Lord Stephen must have sensed her perusal, for he turned and met her eye. She tried to smile at him, to show him some attention – but then he smugly smirked, as though believing her to be enamored with him, and her stomach roiled as a wave of nausea washed over her.
She couldn’t do it.
Not just because she wanted Noah – although she wondered if that would ever change – but because she had to be true to herself. She wouldn’t spend her life with a man just because she had no other option.
She would rather be alone – no matter the consequences.
“Percy, you are so quiet,” Rebecca said from across the table, and Percy shrugged a shoulder.
“I am tired.”
“From what? Were you out late last night?”
“No,” she said slowly. “I have had much on my mind.”
“Oh, I completely understand,” Elizabeth said from her seat next to Percy. “There is so much to consider, especially when one is not from Bath. Where is best to visit each evening? With whom should we socialize? Which young men—” She stopped when she realized that Lord Stephen was listening, a red flush creeping up her cheeks.
“Do go on,” Lord Stephen said, resting his chin on his fist. “I am enjoying listening to you speak. Your voice is melodic.”
Melodic? Percy could use many words to describe Elizabeth’s voice, and melodic was most certainly not one of them. A grin began to spread over her face at what that could mean. Was Lord Stephen interested in her cousin? Oh, but that would be wonderful. For then it could mean that Lord Stephen would pursue Elizabeth and she would be free to--
Her head snapped around in horror as her father’s chair scraped against the floor when he pushed it backward, for she knew exactly what that meant. He held his glass in one hand and his spoon in the other, dinging it against the glass to gather their attention.
“Thank you all for joining us this evening,” he said, lifting his glass to all of them. “I am so grateful to have my family together – and I do consider all of you family.”
Please just announce Richard’s engagement.
“First, my son, Richard, has been ever so dutiful. Not only is he learning from me on the responsibilities that will be his one day, but he has chosen a woman to accompany him in his life who is everything we would ever want in a daughter.”
Percy frowned but said nothing.
“Of course, that does not mean we do not equally appreciate our daughter, Persephone,” he said, turning his attention to her, and Percy swallowed hard. She tried to smile but her lips would not obey. “She is also—”
No, no, no. If she let this happen, there would be no turning back.
Before he could continue, Percy pushed her chair away from the table so quickly that it would have fallen over had a quick-acting footman not reached out and caught it. She had to stop this, and while she knew she was making a scene, it would be far better than reneging on an announced betrothal.
“Excuse me,” she said, and ran from the room, barely registering the shocked expressions that followed her.
She stopped in the corridor outside of the dining room, her back pressed against the wall, her breath coming fast as a sheen of perspiration covered her brow. She placed her hand on her stomach, willing the anxious nausea away.
With her eyes closed and her focus on calming herself, she didn’t notice her mother’s presence until her hands were on top of hers, holding them steady. Percy finally blinked her eyes open, finding her mother’s concerned face right in front of hers.
“Percy,” her mother said softly, “what is the matter?”
