Page 12 of The Good Duke (The Licentious Lords #1)

I n this instant, in this parlor Simon had repurposed for a bright, less staid office, with Simon’s mouth so very close to Persephone’s, and his gaze locked on her lips, everything happened in both slow motion and with an astonishing speed.

As Simon’s mouth came closer to hers, all the thoughts in her head swirled, even as the earth seemed to stop spinning.

My God, is he going to kiss me?

He is going to kiss me!

He really is a rogue.

At that, a good one. For what else accounted for Persephone’s yearning to tip her chin up a fraction and beat him the rest of the way to that kiss he intended to give?

And she knew that was precisely what he intended. As an innocent young girl, she may have been oblivious— may have. For she couldn’t believe any woman, regardless of age, wouldn’t have known exactly what Simon’s intentions were.

But with an absolute certainty of a woman who’d been kissed and often…and more, and who’d witnessed desire in a man’s eyes, she recognized it all too well in her best friend—her former best friend.

Old Simon wouldn’t have spoken all husky and used his well-muscled body to form a loose barrier between her and the rest of the room.

Thankfully, new Persephone, who’d experienced desire, now well knew the perils of passion and why Adam and Eve had been so warned about the forbidden fruit. That lesson had come down through the cruelest heartbreak. For all three of them.

Fortunately, she’d also managed to exit from that former place of employment with her scandal somehow kept secret and her reputation still intact. Almost any other lady would have suffered an ignominious fall from grace.

She’d been lucky once. She wouldn’t, however, always be so fortunate.

In a dizzying whir, Persephone came rushing back to the moment just as Simon’s lips were a hairsbreadth from meeting hers.

“I want you ,” she spoke softly.

Simon froze.

“To tell me what you are looking for in a wife, Simon.”

Simon blinked slowly, dazedly.

Taking advantage of his befuddlement, Persephone ducked out from behind him.

She spun away to compose her features and quickly reassemble her thoughts.

When she again faced him, she wore a smile.

He , on the other hand, still had a disoriented way about him.

Good. The lout deserved it.

If there had been any doubts Simon had become a rogue—which there hadn’t been—the fact he’d use that smooth, seductive voice on Persephone, of all women, was proof enough.

Persephone sailed across the room, claiming the armchair closest to the foot of Simon’s exquisitely carved mahogany desk.

Humming to both calm herself and feign nonchalance, Persephone made a show of opening her book. When she trusted she appeared fully in control, she glanced up.

Simon’s countenance remained the model of bewilderment. He remained exactly where she’d left him and with his mouth agape.

Then he gave his head the slightest shake, so very slight that had she not been staring intently at him, she would have missed the movement.

“Is something the matter, Simon?” Persephone batted her eyes. “Were you hoping I wanted…something else?”

Bright crimson blotches splotched his cheeks. “No!”

Persephone hid a smile and, leaning forward, she patted the edge of his desk and beckoned him over. “Come, we have important work to do.”

Simon approached with hesitant steps. When he finally reached his gilded, high-back chair, he hovered but did not sit.

Goodness, this is such fun.

Continuing to mask her features, Persephone tipped her neck back and met Simon’s gaze more squarely. “Let’s not tarry, Simon.” Then she rested her pencil and notebook on her lap and gave a single, smart clap.

Like a scared student with a stern tutor, Simon promptly plopped down into the leather folds of his chair.

Initially, she’d been angered by the lack of solemnity which he’d put into the very important work of finding a bride who complemented him in every way.

Of a sudden, Persephone found herself enjoying this far more than she should.

Persephone picked up her belongings once more and waited for Simon to get himself properly settled before she spoke. “I want to begin by issuing you an apology.”

Shock rounded out his eyes. “ You wish to…apologize?”

Persephone nodded.

At that unspoken admission, Simon seemed to find his wits. He sat up straighter and reached for the lapels of his jacket.

“After all,” Persephone demurred, “I reacted as if you were the same Simon you used to be.”

Simon froze with his hands poised at the fabric of his jacket.

“What I failed to take into consideration,” she said, “is that you’ve since become an irrepressible rogue.”

“Irrepressible rogue,” he silently mouthed.

“You have developed a greater affinity for brandy…er… cognac and carousing and visiting wicked clubs. As such, it was simply wrong for me to dare to think you would be capable of keeping notes on weighty matters.”

His dark golden eyebrows dropped and then came together in a hard, unyielding line.

Persephone’s smile slipped, and she struggled to swallow past a sudden nervous lump in her throat.

She’d gone too far, pushed and pushed…and now crossed a line. Once more, she’d underestimated him and the forbidding man he’d grown up to be. And for the first time that morn, the tables were flipped, and the advantage went…to him.

With a lethal, cat-like slowness, Simon brought his palms to rest on the smooth, gleaming surface of his desk and leaned forward.

Persephone reflexively drew back in her seat.

“Do you know what I want?” he asked, in an echo of the earlier words she’d teased him with and the same ones he’d tempted her with.

Simon didn’t allow her a chance to answer. “I want a wife who is a graceful and clever hostess. She should require minimal—if any—training in those responsibilities. It is my expectation she, and she alone, will personally see to entertaining guests while I absolve myself from doing so.”

How condescending and jaded sat the man before her. Unlike before, she didn’t feel anger, but rather a crushing sadness. What had happened to him in their time apart?

He paused. “Are you getting all this, Persephone?”

She blinked several times, and then, with alacrity, she glanced down at her blank, but for a title, page. Persephone started to write.

She let her pen fly over the page, capturing all the items he’d listed thus far.

Simon didn’t wait to see if she were properly caught up. He continued to fire off his expectations.

“I require loyalty in my duchess and that she possess an agreeable temperament. In addition, she must be one who can be easily trained—and not by me—in other tasks I plan to entrust her with. And most importantly? She must be beautiful. A Diamond of the First Water. You will have greater access to that information for me. However, I’ve compiled a list.” He pulled out the center drawer of his desk and withdrew a sheet.

Simon handed it over.

Persephone stared at the thick sheet a moment and then reached for his page.

Hers and Simon’s fingers brushed; that touch elicited an electric charge that set off tingles from the place of contact, all the way up her arm.

Unnerved, she snatched the ivory velum quick enough to crinkle the corners.

Taking a steadying and silent breath, Persephone proceeded to read the names written in Simon’s familiar neat scrawl. His handwriting hadn’t changed.

The same, however, could not be said for his hopes and dreams about the woman he’d one day marry.

Like the delicate flutter of a butterfly’s wings, a memory flitted forward—of her and Simon sprawled on their backs and examining the star-studded night sky.

“ You have to marry because you’ll be the earl, Simon. But if you wed one of those snobbish, haughty ladies who care more about fripperies than friends or family, I shan’t ever forgive you. ”

The grass rustled quietly, indicating he’d turned his head, and she did the same to meet his solemn gaze.

“ Seph, she’ll have to be intelligent and big-hearted, and like books and be curious, and make me laugh, but also laugh at my jests.” His expression grew more serious. “In short, I fear you’ve quite ruined me for other women. Which means, we will have to marry someday. ”

Persephone started. Her heart knocked about, and she searched her gaze over his deadly serious features.

Suddenly, a grin crept onto his lips.

Persephone laughed and gave his shoulder a light punch. “You teaser.”

His smile widened. “You know me…”

Simon spoke, recalling her to the present.

“I’d like you to identify whether they have daughters of marriageable age. You are free also to add the names of women whom you believe may suit my needs, but I’d prefer you select one from that sheet I’ve given you.”

Dumbstruck, Persephone tucked the list into the back of her notebook to keep it safe.

He’d taken notes after all. Not of qualities he admired in a woman, but about which bloodlines she possessed—much in the same way he would a prize mare.

She’d known Simon had become cynical in their time apart. She’d just not known he’d become so deadened.

The changes life had wrought in him hurt like a physical blow. Of a sudden, she had the same urge to rescue him as she’d done the injured birds who’d needed their wings nursed.

Simon nudged his chin her way. “I hope you have all that, Persephone.”

“I do,” she said softly, lying through her teeth.

He gave her a pointed look. “In your notebook.”

His wasn’t a question, as he called out her fib.

The penetrative stare he leveled on her sent Persephone’s gaze downward. With an unsteady hand, she frantically added the rest of his parameters for his future duchess.

And she discovered she was a greater coward than she’d previously taken herself as, for even after she’d completed her list— his list—she didn’t lift her gaze to his for several moments more. Instead, she pretended to read.

“Now, I do,” she murmured.

“Have I been clear?”

“Abundantly so, Simon.”

“We are done here, then.”

She’d have to be deaf as a post to fail to hear the ducal dismissal there.

The years she’d spent employed by austere, powerful noblemen brought her swiftly and reflexively to her feet.

Persephone dropped a curtsy.

She needn’t have bothered. Simon had already returned all his attention to whatever it was he’d been working at when she’d arrived.

As she made the ignominious march from the parlor, Persephone set her chin.

He’d been abundantly clear in his wishes and requests and demands.

Just as Persephone was abundantly clear she had the perfect companion in mind for Simon: Beautiful. Loyal. Always donning a smile. The clever girl met all his requirements…and then some.

The better question, however, was whether new Simon was deserving of this particular lovely lady?

Simon could be saved. He could change. Persephone believed that with the whole of her heart.

That was why she herself intended to hand deliver the gift Simon sought and needed.