He picked up his paper, lying on the table near Persephone’s left arm. Apparently, she’d chosen the chair next to his. Persephone looked up at him with a smile, unsure if she ought to be apologizing or looking pleased with the arrangement. The newspaper in Adam’s hand crumpled under the tension in his fist. He was facing away from her, but Persephone could see the disapproval written all over his face.
“I’m sorry,” Persephone said, rising. “I’ll sit somewhere else.”
“Sit,” Adam instructed without looking at her.
Persephone obeyed immediately.
“Perhaps you should move to the other side, dear,” the dowager suggested.
His right side! Persephone could have kicked herself. She’d suspected before that Adam was self-conscious about his scars. He would not appreciate having her seated at his right.
Persephone stood again, picking up her plate.
“Sit,” Adam said again, a touch impatiently.
Persephone began to sit but stopped when the dowager spoke again.
“I am certain she wouldn’t mind,” she said to her son. “It isn’t so very much to ask, poor—”
“Iwill move.” Adam snatched his own plate and walked around the table to the seat furthest from the one he had occupied.
Persephone tucked into her breakfast, thinking furiously. She hadn’t done well, thus far, on the goals she’d set for herself. She doubted Adam had even noticed her blue dress or her new coiffure. Not that she’d expected him to spout sonnets at her appearance. But a smile would have been nice.
She took a sip of tea. From then on, Persephone vowed she would take care never to sit on Adam’s right. It was a shame, really, that he was so conscious of his scars. They truly didn’t bother her. She wondered about them, how he’d come to have such extensive injuries. And she wondered if those scars were the only reason Adam had been so unhappy with her seated so near.
A knot formed instantly in her stomach at the thought that she alone had sent him to the far end of the table. Suddenly, Persephone didn’t feel very hungry.
“Will you be coming to Town at Christmastime?” the dowager asked, her eyes turned to Adam.
“Of course not,” Adam answered, his paper raised once more. “I never go to Town until absolutely necessary.”
The dowager turned her attention to Persephone. “You must convince the poor boy to go about more in society. I would so love to have the two of you with me in London.”
“I have never been to London.”
The look of shock that followed what Persephone had intended to be a conversational comment instantly silenced any further words she might have produced.Thathadn’t been the right response to the dowager’s invitation.
“Well, then,” Persephone’s mother-in-law recovered herself quickly, “in that case you absolutelymustcome.” Her smile broadened to an entirely sincere grin. “I will positively love taking you around Town and introducing you to just everyone! Do come, Adam. We could all go. I am certain you could pack quickly. I could delay my departure by a day or so and we could all—”
“No, Mother,” was the implacable response. “I will be forced to take her in the spring as it is.”
“Forced?” the dowager replied with obvious disapproval at Adam’s word choice. “The Season is such fun. How can you say ‘forced’?”
“I despise London,” Adam answered. “But the Queen will be put out if Persephone is not presented. And that is one bother I could do without. Thus, I shall be forced to Town.”
Upsetting the queen qualified as little more than a bother to Adam? Persephone felt her less-exalted birth keenly in that moment.
“Do not let him burden you with even the tiniest amount of guilt, Your Grace,” Harry said to Persephone. “He will be eager to go to London come March or April. By then he will have gone at least nine months without insulting the members of the Cabinet nor any of the Royal family and will be itching for the opportunity. He will, we can now be quite certain, blame the trip on you.”
“I am not to believe that reason, then?” Persephone asked. Harry had an easy smile—one that had almost instantly brought an answering smile to her own lips. She’d needed someone to stand as reassurer.
“It seems, with Mother Harriet haring off to Town, there will be no one to explain to the new duchess how to interpret her husband’s frequently misleading moods,” Harry said as if deep in thought.
Persephone took a sip of tea to hide her smile.
“I suppose, as a good friend of the family, I ought to remain behind and offer my insight. Seeing as how I no longer fear the threat of your pistols, and you have assured me that you do not, in fact, brandish farm weaponry in ridding yourself of guests who overstay their welcomes.” Harry rose from his seat. “I feel entirely secure in remaining at Falstone Castle indefinitely.”
“Do not be surprised if you are thrown from the south parapet,” Adam warned, not so much as lowering his paper.
