“Frustrates the—” Harry cleared his throat and looked a little embarrassed. “Frustrates him.”
Persephone paced the room, her brain spinning with the insights Harry offered her. “If Adam does not like people to be afraid of him, why does he go to such lengths to accomplish it?” A few of the stories she’d heard from the staff regarding Adam’s rather colorful past came springing to mind: duels, brawls, grown men reduced to tears, women swooning.
“I have a few theories,” Harry said. “But Adam would, literally, kill me if I posed any of them to you.”
Persephone turned to look at Harry, expecting to see the joking façade he usually presented. He looked far too serious for her peace of mind.
He shrugged. “‘Kill’ may be a little strong. Still, Adam’s motivations are not a topic I am willing to discuss.”
“But I am trying so hard to understand him.”
“Most people do not even try.” Harry’s smile was full of sympathy. “Give it some time. I have a feeling you will come up with a few theories of your own.”
He bowed then walked to the door. He stopped a step from the threshold and turned to look back at her. “He really never looks at you?” he asked.
Persephone shook her head.
“Something about you has ruffled him.” Harry narrowed his eyes a little. “And nothing ruffles Adam.”
“Is that good or bad?” Persephone asked, suddenly concerned.
“I don’t know yet.” He gave her one last searching look before inclining his head and stepping out.
“Ruffled him?” Not exactly the reaction most women would wish for from their husband. “But,” she told herself, “it means he, at least, is not indifferent.”
Perhaps that was something she could build on. Persephone quickly reviewed all Harry had told her about Adam.
“Do not be intimidated. Do not pity,” Persephone whispered. It wasn’t much as far as advice went, but it was something. She thumped Artemis’s letter against her open palm as she circled the sitting room.
Adam had said something the morning before, in the corridor outside his book room, about not wanting her to stick out at Falstone Castle, about not advertising her flaws. Appearances seemed to be important to him as well.
Persephone could learn to conduct herself like a duchess. She had been practicing and could improve. She’d also been spending a little extra time at her dressing table each morning, allowing her maid the opportunity to experiment with her toilette. Adam hadn’t said anything, specifically, about her appearance. But it certainly couldn’t hurt.
“Do not be intimidated,” Persephone repeated to herself.
She still wasn’t sure why he seemed to avoid her, why he, apparently, couldn’t bear to look at her. But those things could be dealt with later. Persephone had a goal.
If nothing else, Adam would respect her.
Chapter Ten
Winter had come early, just as Jeb Handly had predicted. It was the third week of October, and already a bitterly cold wind was whipping around Falstone. But arctic cold didn’t bother Adam’s faithful horse, and it didn’t bother Adam. Unfortunately, biting cold also failed to intimidate Harry.
“Old Jeb really ought to seek out a position as royal weather predictor,” Harry said as they cantered through the front gate.
“There is no such position.”
“If Mad King George knew of Jeb’s abilities, he’d have the position created,” Harry insisted.
“If he heard you calling him Mad King George, he’d have you thrown in jail.”
Harry laughed. The man didn’t even take treason seriously.
“Jus’ so, Yer Grace,” a voice echoed across the paddock near the stables. “She’s a bit skittish ’s’morning, it bein’ so cold an’ all.”
“Haven’t you a horse who isn’t skittish about cold?”
Adam’s head snapped at the sound of Persephone’s voice. He hadn’t seen much of her in the two days since their encounter outside his book room. Part of the reason, he acknowledged, was that he’d been avoiding her. Something about Persephone made him uncomfortable.
