Page 56 of Til Death Duke Us Part
The alchemist stepped off the stage and was immediately lost in an ocean of interested investors. Victor had done it. Why hadn’t he told her?
His eyes met hers across the teeming, rowdy crush. And the man’s cheeks flushed red. She laughed again and lowered her hands.
“I’m proud of you.” She said it so softly. He could not have heard her. But his cheeks flushed even brighter. He stepped toward her and was caught by the alchemist. He tried to shake the alchemist off, but the men gathered around wouldn’t allow it. She lost sight of him in the crowd.
“That was marvelous,” Lady Bowen breathed from nearby.
“I hate to compliment the man, but”—Sir Nicholas whistled—“I agree.”
“I must go.” Persephone backed away from the crowd. She couldn’t pretend anymore. It hurt too much. It felt like she was digging her own grave.
“No, wait.” Lady Bowen trotted after her. “He’ll want you?—”
“He didn’t want me here. It’s fine. I… Thank you for bringing me. Tell Victor he is… he is wonderful.” Then she ducked her head and ran.
It had worked. The man standing in front of Mr. Peabottom, the hot air balloon alchemist, was Lord Driditch, an earl worth more than most of the other men in England combined. And he was offering a massive sum to Peabottom for development of his aeronautical device, a sum which Peabottom was contractually obligated to share with Victor. Fifty-fifty. It wasn’t a fair split. The alchemist had done all the work. But they wouldn’t have the investor without Victor. He refused to feel guilty.
And he refused to stay around any longer. Not with Persephone gone. God, he’d not meant for her to be here, but he was damned glad she had been. His victory was all the sweeter for it. He’d catch up with her and take her home, and they’d celebrate tonight.
“Well done, man.” A hand clapped down on his shoulder, and Victor looked up to see his brother-in-law. “That was impressive.”
“Beautifully done, Victor!” Jane hugged him then held him at arm’s length. “I’m terribly proud of you.”
I’m proud of you. He was pretty sure those were the words Persephone had mouthed from across the crowd.
“I have to go.” Victor patted his sister’s head and slapped Bowen’s back and pushed through them.
“That was very like your brother,” Bowen said as Victor trotted after Persephone.
“Forgive him. He’s in love.” That Jane.
“He wasn’t in love until the last fortnight or so, and he’s always like this. What’s his excuse been then?”
Victor ignored that and picked up his pace, but Persephone was nowhere to be seen.
She wasn’t in Hyde Park. She wasn’t at his Mayfair townhouse. She wasn’t even at her own dingy room. When Sarah popped her head out of the door, she let Victor know she hadn’t seen Persephone at all.
That meant there remained one place to look.
He groaned as he went back down the stairs and into the dying light. He’d had his fill of graveyards. But that didn’t matter right now.
Only finding Persephone did.
14
CLIMBING
Persephone sliced her shovel into the soil and heaved it up and over the edge of the grave. She’d been shoveling and thinking for hours, just as she had been doing since her return to London a fortnight ago—shoveling, thinking, and finally coming to a conclusion.
She could dig.
Or she could climb.
She would?—
She screamed when a body fell from the sky and right into her grave. But instead of landing horizontal, it stretched up toward the sky, boots firmly on the soil, head popping up slightly above the ground.
The Duke of Morington crossed his arms, kicked her bucket out of the way, and leaned against one dirty wall. “Thank God I finally found you. Of course you’d be here, filthy as a worm. Where’s your fairy light? Doesn’t matter. Finish up, Persephone. We’re going home.”
