Persephone hadn’t expected that. It was, by far, the most encouraging sign she’d had from him in some time. “Rest is all I really need. But thank you for offering.” She smiled, hoping to break through his icy exterior.
Again her gratitude seemed to unnerve him. He gave a crisp shake of his head before stepping from the doorway and disappearing down the corridor.
Persephone laid her napkin on the table and rose from her seat, making her way to the doorway. She knew Adam would not still be there—that he had, no doubt, retreated into his book room already. Still, she looked down the empty corridor in the direction he’d gone, wondering if he had any idea how perplexing a man he was.
Why did he keep people at a distance? Why did he go to such lengths to appear uncaring when he had shown her—inadvertently, she was certain—twice that he did, indeed, care, at least a little? And if he did care even the slightest bit, was that not reason enough to try to make their marriage work?
A faint knock echoed along the walls of the stone corridor. Persephone had never before lived in a house so large that a knock on the front door sounded, when heard from a few rooms away, like little more than mice in the walls. The knock was followed immediately by an almost frantic ringing of the front bell.
She moved quickly down the corridor and onto the front landing. Adam stood at the head of the staircase, watching as Barton opened the front door.
“Urgent message for His Grace,” a breathless voice said.
Persephone looked at Adam. His expression hadn’t changed, but something in his demeanor had tensed. Despite the subtle change, Adam remained calm and in control.
“Your Grace.” Barton bowed and handed Adam the missive.
Adam nodded, and Barton made his way back down the stairs. Persephone watched Adam read, feeling herself tense as Adam’s jaw noticeably clenched. He finished the letter in less than a minute.
“Barton!” he called out. The butler reached the foot of the stairs in an instant, awaiting instructions. “Send word to the stables to send up the chaise.” Adam walked down the stairs. Persephone followed close on his heels, her concern growing. “And send someone to Sifton for Mr. Johns.”
“Yes, Your Grace.” With a look, Barton sent one of the footmen out the door to deliver the message.
“Are you leaving, Adam?” Persephone asked as they reached the bottom stair.
“Almost on the instant.” To Barton he said, “Tell Mrs. Smithson to prepare Mr. Windover’s usual room.”
“Harry?” Persephone’s heart pounded. “Is something the matter with Harry?”
Adam turned toward her, seeming to forget in his anxiety not to look at her. “He’s taken ill at an inn between here and Hawick.”
“Is it serious?”
“Apparently so.”
She pushed down a surge of panic. “What do you plan to do?”
“Go retrieve him, of course.” His words were clipped and tense. “If the stables ever send my carriage, that is,” he snapped, pacing to a front window and peering out impatiently.
“I’m certain they are doing the best they can.” She crossed to the window where he stood and gazed out along with him. “It has begun to snow,” she said, alarmed anew.
“Precisely why I wish to make an immediate start.”
“But is it safe?” Persephone watched the sprinkling of snow as it continued to drift to the ground. “If the snow should begin to fall faster, you might become stuck.”
“I can reach the inn before then.” Adam turned toward Barton as he arrived with Adam’s caped greatcoat.
“But you might be snowed in.” The very idea alarmed her. Suppose the inn was not well heated? Suppose he didn’t reach the inn in time? Her heart lurched at the thought.
Adam just shrugged.
“How will I know you are safe?” Hundreds of possible scenarios flashed through her mind.
“If I do not return for the night, you can assume I am holed up in the undoubtedly flea-infested hostelry Harry has chosen to take ill in.”
“I will assume no such thing.” Persephone turned from the window to look up at him. How could he think she would be so easily appeased? “Simply not returning will tell me nothing. You could just as easily be half-frozen on the side of some road or devoured by wolves or ill yourself.”
“I have driven these roads for years,” Adam said dismissively. “I have never once broken down.”
