“He let her go because he loved her?”
Persephone nodded. “And she returned because she loved him.”
* * *
Adam had sat beside her for hours. Persephone smiled at the memory. She couldn’t have been more content had she danced with a hundred gentlemen. Her husband had been attentive and kind and had endured what must have been a very miserable evening for her sake. At one point he’d even held her hand. She would cherish that memory for all her life.
He’d mentally been far away—she’d seen it in his face. Their unexpected conversation about mythology had been quite odd. Perhaps he had simply been bored out of his mind, seeking entertainment where he could find it.
Still, it had been progress. They had spent the evening much as two longtime friends would, sitting in companionable silence, sharing observations of their fellow man, talking of the little nothings that filled the conversations of the well-acquainted. She decided weeks ago that she wished for his friendship.
Now she wanted more.
She felt certain she merely needed time to come to know him better, to understand his moods and thoughts. On more than one occasion in the past week, Persephone thought Adam had been moments from kissing her, from reaching out to her. In time, he would stop fighting those instincts, she assured herself. She held out hope that he would, that she might even be able to resurrect a few of her now-dead dreams of love and happy ever after.
Persephone stepped out of her dressing room, grateful for her warm wool dressing gown now that winter had begun to make itself known. She stopped not a single step inside, surprised by what she saw.
Adam was pacing in her bedchamber.
“Adam?”
His expression concerned her. Something was on his mind, something that did not seem pleasant.
“Linus leaves for Shropshire in the morning,” he said, continuing to pace, not looking at her.
“Yes, I know.” The visit had been far too short, but Linus had only three weeks of shore leave.
“You will be going with him,” Adam said decisively.
Going with him?“I don’t understand.”
“Your maid can pack your bags, and you can leave with Linus after you break your fast.” Adam stopped his pacing abruptly. He seemed to be struggling for a moment, as if a word lodged itself in his throat. “I am certain your family will be pleased to see you again.”
“Adam—”
“I will let you rest before your journey.” With that he left.
Persephone stood alone in her room, heart pounding even as it dropped to the pit of her stomach.
After all that had happened between them, Adam was sending her away.
Chapter Thirty-Seven
“I do wish you would consider coming to London for Christmas,” Mother said once more as she climbed into her traveling carriage.
Adam had no intention of going anywhere. He would spend the rest of the winter seeing to Falstone as he always had. “I am certain your holiday will be perfectly fine.”
“But will yours be?” Far too much empathy filled her voice. “How you must miss her.” She looked at him like a little boy who’d lost a playmate.
“I never miss anyone.” He turned and took the steps back up to the castle.
Persephone had been gone for a week. He’d told her to go, released her, as it were. He’d never done anything so difficult in his life. But part of him had believed she wouldn’t actually go or that, at the very least, she would promise to return on a given day.
She hadn’t. Persephone had eaten her breakfast in heavy silence and offered little more than an awkward, stuttered farewell before climbing into her carriage.
“Adam?” Mother called behind him.
Adam stopped just inside the Falstone doors and waited.
