Page 20 of The Good Duke (The Licentious Lords #1)

R unning gaily through the flower shop in pursuit of Simon’s pup, Persephone strove to recall a time when she’d had as much fun as this.

For so long, her days had run into years. She’d lived to work, and though she’d not disliked the work she performed, neither had it occurred to her how very much she’d hungered for the levity life had once been.

There’d been charges and lessons to design and meetings with employers. It had all filled up every moment of every day, so she’d not had a chance to breathe…or even to realize all she’d lost when her father died. The need to survive and support herself had taken precedence.

When her father passed, so too did Persephone’s ability to be a carefree young woman. And it only made sense that Simon, the boy who’d been her best friend—and only friend in the world—should happen to be the man to open her eyes to everything she missed most.

Perhaps that is why your lives have converged? Perhaps all along, you were destined to be together.

Persephone came up so quickly, she nearly tumbled head over feet. Her fingers found purchase on a nearby table filled with various stalks of greenery.

All around her, the world continued at a dizzying pace, with people passing by. As if she were underwater, the voices around her—their laughter, their murmured exchanges—all moved in and out of focus.

Destined to be together? Her and Simon?

It was preposterous. Implausible. Impossible. She did not tolerate, let alone care for, jaded men with sardonic humor. And yet…

Simon wasn’t just any man. He was… Simon .

And I…I… love him .

Against Persephone’s ribcage, her heart thudded at a sickening beat.

She gripped the edge of the pine table harder, so hard her fingernails sank into the soft wood.

It was impossible. She couldn’t. She wouldn’t ever do something as foolish as to fall in love with a grown-up Simon—not the hard, guarded man he’d become.

But…he’d proven to still possess the big heart and generosity and humor he’d always possessed.

Her breath came in noisy little spurts. She squeezed her eyes shut. No good comes from loving Simon Broadbent, Duke of Greystoke. This is a disaster…

Need it be? a voice whispered around her mind.

Yes, he’d sworn he had no interest or wish in anything but a marriage of convenience. That cold decision, however, had been reached after years of heartbreak and rejection. He’d only transformed into a cynical, guarded man to protect himself from further pain.

Surely, he could trust that Persephone would never be one to hurt him. Just as Persephone could trust that Simon was not Lord Silas Keefe and would never hurt her.

He would never be so cruel as to promise a woman the world, only to break her heart and cast her from his life with nowhere to go and with no one to whom she could turn.

No, despite Simon’s initial misgivings when finding Persephone in his residence, he’d quickly agreed to offer her shelter, a place to work, and a promise of references. He’d shown glimpses of his playful former self.

And you want him desperately. You ache to have him in your bed and in your arms, in every wicked way.

Just as she knew with the experience of a woman who’d had a former lover, Simon wanted her as she yearned for him.

Suddenly, an absolute sense of rightness filled her. That heady sensation chased away the dread of her discovery and left Persephone light as she’d never been—not even in her happiest, most carefree days.

Her heart resumed a normal beat; the cadence of her breath settled into an even rhythm.

Why…it all made sense. This made sense.

They’d been destined for one another. Only neither of them had realized it; but the universe had, and it brought them back together. That was why she’d dragged her heels on finding him a bride. She’d not realized it at the time, but now, with her eyes wide open, Persephone saw all too clearly.

The marriage she’d sought to show Simon he needed was, in fact, the relationship they’d once enjoyed together.

Together.

She opened her eyes.

The glaring rays of the sun streamed through the windows and cast a mystic, ethereal glow over the hothouse.

The earth had resumed spinning and settled into a safe, smooth rotation. The aromatic scents of the floral shop flooded her senses. All the colors of each beautiful bloom proved more vivid, more vibrant. More everything .

Filled with a giddy lightness, Persephone collected her skirts, lifted her hems, and went searching for Lady Chloe and Simon until she found herself breaking out into a full run.

As before, laughter spilled from her lips and earned censorious looks as she streamed past. And she didn’t care. She couldn’t care.

At last, everything made sense.

She…

Persephone stopped in her tracks.

She found Simon.

And her. She’d found Lady Chloe too.

Simon and Lady Chloe, who, in Persephone’s absence, added a third member, making their party of two a trio.

Persephone stared on dumbly, an outsider looking in.

Simon stood before a young lady. The woman, not many years older than a girl but so very clearly a woman grown, fairly dazzled in her shimmering white satin dress. A fringe of pearls and crystals adorned a modest décolleté that drew a person’s eyes and appreciation to the lady’s impressive bosom.

She stood tall as any queen. Her lustrous golden hair, more than a dozen different shades of blonde strands, had been intricately woven and fashioned into a loose coronet about her head that turned her into a veritable Aphrodite come to life.

Certainly not Persephone, goddess of the underworld.

Everything about this other woman was enough to freeze a room and hold a person spellbound.

She slipped her gaze over to Simon, and her chest hitched painfully upon discovering that Simon proved no exception to the woman’s beauty and apparent charms. An odd, burning taste filled Persephone’s mouth. Something that felt very much like jealousy.

Simon’s companion handed over Lady Chloe’s leash. The dog reared on her hind legs and batted at Simon’s until her master eventually acquiesced, scooped her up, giving her what she sought.

Persephone breathed an audible sigh of relief.

The young woman had rescued Lady Chloe and merely returned the pup to Simon.

Some of the tension left her.

Now that she’d done so, they would part ways and—

The striking couple continued speaking. Simon periodically ran an appreciative stare over the Diamond. For there could be absolutely no doubt the young lady who’d graced this hothouse was the reigning Diamond of the Season.

As Persephone remained there, forgotten by Simon and reduced to an outsider looking in, her noisy breaths filled her ears.

At her side, she balled and unballed her fist.

Go. You cannot stand here, simply staring at them.

Speaking alone and with no suitable chaperone about would prove calamitous for both of them. Nay, for all of them! Persephone and her own reputation were now intricately intertwined with Simon’s.

That was the only reason Persephone cared.

“Maybe you’d have an easier time believing that were you not just coming to terms with your feelings for him,” she muttered under her breath.

She frowned. Why, she could very well be experiencing both emotions—and undoubtedly was. Envy at the way Simon smiled and conversed so effortlessly with a woman who was not her. And concern that at this very moment, Simon and the lady risked their reputations.

A dark possibility slid in.

Maybe that was the unknown beauty’s intention? Maybe in order to obtain the coveted role of duchess, she’d merely sprung a trap to catch Simon?

Persephone’s scowl deepened. What was the likelihood a young, unmarried lady at that, one as beautiful and elegantly garbed as she, would be wandering a hothouse with neither a mother, chaperone, lady’s maid, or protective brother about?

None. The likelihood was zero.

At that moment, Simon tossed his head back and let out a deep bellow of laughter that drew curious stares his way.

Oh, this is quite enough.

Persephone, with long, quick, and very determined strides, started across the length of the hothouse to save Simon from himself.

Then there came a quiet chuckle from Simon. Not the sardonic sound Persephone had heard so many times since she’d come to London. Rather, this was a real, genuine expression of mirth at whatever the beautiful and apparently clever lady had uttered.

Persephone gritted her teeth.

Did he not care that his behavior this day imperiled Persephone’s future? Were it to be discovered that with Persephone guiding him through the courtship process, he’d broken the rules of propriety, any reference he wrote on her behalf would prove useless.

Who’d hire a woman who’d allowed such behavior to go unchecked?

He, on the other hand, would remain a darling of Polite Society for no other reason than he was both man and duke, and as such not held to the same unfair rules that constrained women.

As Persephone neared them, the young woman briefly looked Persephone’s way. Her perfectly formed bow-shaped lips formed an equally perfect pout.

Simon, on the other hand, proved entirely engrossed in the siren before him.

“I am so very happy to see you found her, Your Grace,” Persephone said the moment she reached the enrapt couple.

Lady Godiva looked her up and down and must have—accurately—declared Persephone no competition for the duke’s affections.

Simon, on the other hand, blinked and glanced about as if unfamiliar with the sound of Persephone’s voice and unclear as to why she was even there.

Persephone pursed her mouth.

For all the perplexity stamped on Simon’s features, he and Persephone may as well have just been reunited for the first time.

She lowered her eyes demurely and sank into a deep, deferential curtsy.

“My name is Miss Forsyth,” Persephone murmured, by way of greeting to the young woman. “I am personal secretary to His Grace, the Duke of Greystoke, and the ward of his late father, the Earl of Primly.”

The lady’s pale-to-the-point-of-white eyebrows flared ever so slightly, and then, having clearly ascertained Persephone was, in fact, no threat to the duke’s affections, she offered a radiant smile.

“We’ve already exchanged introductions, Miss Forsyth,” she said in nauseatingly sweet, dulcet tones.

He’d already performed introductions? She swung her gaze Simon’s way.

His face remained an inscrutable mask.

It soon became apparent the young woman had also deemed Persephone unworthy of her name.

Given Simon’s failure to introduce Persephone, the duke was of a like opinion. That realization wrenched her heart and hit her like a kick to the belly.

Persephone hated with her whole heart those truths should hurt so.

She found herself swiftly forgotten by the beautiful pair and made herself step several paces away to allow them some privacy, while still shielding them with her reputation and maintaining an air of respectability over the exchange.

It wasn’t an unfamiliar position to find herself. In fact, it was one she’d come to know and expect.

But that this was Simon…

Persephone bit the inside of her lower lip brutally hard until pain drove out the threatening tears.

“What is this beautiful girl’s name?” the young woman crooned as she petted Lady Chloe in that spot the dog so favored, behind her ears.

“Forgive me. I’ve been remiss with introductions,” Simon murmured.

Persephone’s heart jumped, and her slightly drooped shoulders lifted. She’d unfairly judged him. He did intend to include Perseph—

“May I present my beautiful and more loving than I deserve pup, Astrid .”

Persephone, feeling like an audience member watching some great scene unfold before her, did not move.

His dog.

Persephone stared blankly through Simon and the exquisite beauty who’d ensnared him.

He’d…introduced not Persephone but—

She stilled. His pup, whom he’d given a new name.

“Astrid,” Persephone whispered. Her middle name that she’d so often lamented and which he’d forever insisted was perfectly lovely.

Simon glanced her way. He flashed a sheepish, almost shy grin that wrested free another piece of her heart. In that moment, everything else faded away, so only Persephone and Simon existed.

They exchanged smiles.

“ Astrid? ” the Diamond’s slightly pitched query put a swift end to the moment.

Whining, Astrid squiggled to escape her master.

“I believe she wishes for your company, my lady.” Simon held the smiling dog toward the lady.

Persephone suppressed a snort. The young woman no sooner wanted to cuddle a dog than Astrid wanted to be held by—

Making a cooing sound, Lady Perfect eagerly gathered Astrid into her arms and rocked the pup the same way she might a babe. “I have always loved dogs,” she said softly. “I’ve missed having one of my own.”

And damned if Persephone didn’t feel a tender pull at the girl’s wistful musings.

“My poor girl,” the young lady soothed. She made a regretful sound. “This beautiful dear requires a beautiful name to suit her.”

Persephone flinched, and her momentary goodwill faded.

Did she merely imagine the slight frown that played at the corners of Simon’s mouth because she wished to see him as her dear avenger? It must have been the shifting streams of sunlight before he looked away from Persephone that turned the glint in his eyes to a glimmer.

For his next words to the lady proved playful.

“Do tell me, my lady,” he said in a soft, teasing murmur. “What name would you give this dear girl?”

The young woman turned Astrid about so they faced one another. She lifted the dog closer, bringing her up for a careful inspection.

Dog and Diamond considered one another.

Astrid warily. Diamond contemplatively.

Persephone couldn’t stop the satisfying reminder that not all had fallen under the woman’s spell. Animals were superb at judging a person’s character. And Astrid had clearly decided…

Astrid licked Lady Diamond’s cheek, and the woman giggled in a high, lilting laugh better suited a young girl. “Belle! She should be called Belle.”

Belle. Not Astrid, the horrid middle name that Persephone—bringer of death, leader of the underworld—possessed, but rather something truly as beautiful as the woman herself.

“Belle,” Simon repeated on that husky murmur that shamefully, even with this beauty he undoubtedly considered a prospective bride, stirred an ache between Persephone’s legs. “I concur, it does suit her, just as it suits you, Lady Isabelle.”

Lady Isabelle ?

Ah, so the lady had a name.

A pretty pink blush dusted Lady Isabelle’s impossibly high cheekbones.

The lady had the audacity to name Simon’s dog after herself.

Before she could stop herself, Persephone pulled a face. Not that either Simon or Lady Isabelle even knew Persephone remained beside them. For Simon and his Diamond, the world had fallen away, but for the two of them.

Simon’s dog panted, revealing a happy smile at the budding relationship unfolding before them.

“I daresay she is more than a little in love with you,” Simon declared.

Yes. But who wouldn’t be? Including Simon.

Persephone found herself besieged with another overwhelming urge to cry.

“Are you alone?” Persephone asked, that question emerging more harshly than she’d intended or could have helped in this instant.

Both Simon and Lady Isabelle looked at Persephone like she’d sprung a second head. And mayhap Persephone had, and this one contained a completely and utterly mad brain.

You are better than this, Persephone. You’ve always known what your job has been. You just allowed yourself to be caught up in a fleeting dream of a ‘what if’ that included Simon.

Persephone drew forth from everything she’d learned at the hands of Mrs. Belden and demurely dropped her eyes.

“Forgive me,” she said on a quiet murmur. “Of course, you are not alone. Is there someone we may help you locate? A mother, a chaperone…” Anyone who can take you on your way.

“A brother,” the young lady supplied.

Persephone stared at her in confusion.

“There is someone who accompanied me and will be looking for me,” Lady Isabelle said softly. “I fear I’ve been separated from my brother.”

Ah. Separated from one’s brother. That invariably indicated over the years, some governess, somewhere had been run roughshod over.

Now, there existed the matter of finding said negligent brother.

“We will be all too happy to help you locate him, my lady,” Persephone assured. “Isn’t that right, S—Your Grace?” she caught herself before completing that slip-up.

Lady Isabelle beamed. “That would be most gracious of you, Your Grace.”

As if it’d been Simon who’d tendered that offer.

Persephone flattened her lips.

The young lady looked to a spot beyond Simon’s shoulder and brightened. “Alas, there will be no need. I am happy to say my brother has found me.”

Thank the Lord in Heaven. Someone had come to retrieve the girl.

Lady Isabelle raised her hand in an exuberant, happy wave that could not be feigned and bespoke a tenderness for the man charged with her care.

Persephone followed the girl’s gaze to the avenging figure who’d once and for all end this blasted meeting.

But Persephone’s unforgivable happiness at being free of the young woman and alone once more with Simon died a swift death.

A buzzing filled Persephone’s ears. Her body went first hot and then cold. Moisture slicked her palms.

No. It cannot be.

There’d been a time when she’d imagine him wherever she’d went, that smile, those eyes, that beautiful laugh. His laugh had bewitched and been that which she’d fallen in love with first about him.

She blinked slowly, so very certain that with an eventual flutter of her lashes, the sight of him would change to some chap who only resembled him.

But he continued coming.

His piercing gaze as solemn as she’d never before seen it, fixed squarely on Persephone. His hard lips did not turn up in that devastating rogue’s smile he’d always worn when she’d entered a room or when he’d come in search of her.

There came no resonant echo of his deep chuckle, one so deep that when she’d lain, draped over him and naked in his arms, her body had shaken.

It’d taken her a lifetime to bury all thoughts of him. Only to find him resurrected from the ashes of her long-ago pain.

At last, he stood before her, as real and in the flesh as when they’d shared a roof, back when she’d been companion to his younger sister— one of his younger sisters.

From beside them came Lady Isabelle’s happy cry.

Isabelle.

Issy.

Persephone closed her eyes a moment.

At some point, the girl Persephone once played hide and seek with had become a woman—at that, a stunning one of form and face to freeze a room.

“ Silas! ” Lady Isabelle exclaimed. “I found you.”

Silas , formerly the Earl of Milford-Haven and now Marquess of Bute, did not take his gaze from Persephone.

“I believe it is safe to say,” he murmured, his deep baritone proving as rich and compelling as ever, “ I found you .”