Was it any wonder, then, that she, too, fell under that category? She’d been thrown completely off guard when Adam had approached her in her room that morning. She’d immediately begun mentally revisiting her departure from Adam’s bedchamber. Had she left behind something that had given away her presence there? Had Adam realized what she’d been doing the past few nights? Was he angry?
Then he’d taken hold of her—there’d been something almost frantic in his grip—studying her minutely. She’d frozen under the intensity of his evaluation. What was he seeing? He’d answered her question after less than a minute.
“Ridiculous.”
“Your Grace.” Barton’s voice interrupted her memories. “You have received a letter.”
“Thank you,” Persephone answered automatically. Barton held the missive out to her on the silver salver he always used to deliver the post. She took it and laid it on her lap without looking at it.
Harry had been trying to tell her that what Adam considered ridiculous didn’t always match what others might label that way. But that knowledge didn’t particularly help. The truth remained: Adam had looked her over and didn’t like what he saw.
Where was the Adam who’d given her the beautiful riding habit? The one who’d brought her a coat when she’d gone into the cold without one? The Adam who had touched her so gently, so softly only the evening before? In those too-brief moments, he’d been the type of man she’d once dreamed of marrying.
The letter on her lap drew Persephone’s attention. She recognized the handwriting instantaneously: Artemis’s. Persephone sighed, worry she hadn’t realized she’d been feeling suddenly released. Artemis hadn’t written in weeks, not since before word of Evander’s fate at Trafalgar had reached Falstone.
Dear Persephone,
I wish you weren’t so far away.
Tears stung her eyes. True to character, Artemis had dispensed with the expected social pleasantries and had cut straight to the heart of the matter.
“So do I,” Persephone whispered.
Everyone is sad. I know if you were here, you could make everyone smile again. Watching them makes me sad. I don’t remember much about Evander. Athena says that I shouldn’t say that because it sounds unfeeling. How can the truth be unfeeling? I wish you were here to explain that to me.
Our new governess doesn’t approve of reading about haunted castles. I don’t like her.
Is your castle haunted? When can I come see your towers? Our governess says your house won’t be as black as ours because Evander isn’t the duke’s brother. Is that true? I wish I could go there. I am sick to death of black and people who cry all the time.
Are you happy? I wonder about that.
Papa wanted me to write something in my letter for him to tell you, but he can’t remember what it was. He says he’ll write you a letter later.
I miss you. Tell me when I can come.
All my love, and an extra hug,
Artemis
Are you happy?Leave it to Artemis to ask a question so pointed. With all the obvious difficulties at home, the upheaval she was apparently dealing with, Artemis certainly didn’t need to know that her sister, her mother in many respects, was at times painfully unhappy and growing increasingly lonely.
She held the letter in her hand as she made her way to the stairs and up to her rooms.
Papa was going to write to her? Persephone hoped he would but had no expectation of actually hearing from him. She worried that his wandering mind left him neglectful of the family. Was he even capable of looking after them?
Persephone sat at the writing table in her sitting room, pondering the dilemma before her. She did not at all approve of lies, white or otherwise. But if she wrote to Artemis and told her that she spent her days fluctuating between resigned and unhappy, the girl would be heartbroken and, worse, worried.
Dear Artemis,
How happy I was to receive your letter.
She had, indeed, been quite happy at hearing from her dear little sister. Persephone bit her lips together, thinking.
Do not worry over your memories of Evander. You were quite young when he left home. If you wish, I shall share my memories with you, and then you will know him as well as I do.
Persephone blinked back the tears that started afresh in her eyes. The pain of her brother’s loss was still raw. Every mention of Evander brought worries for Linus.
I do not know, dearest, when you can come to visit me at Falstone Castle. I understand the weather here in wintertime is quite unpredictable. Perhaps in the spring, or after the London Season comes to a close. I imagine summers in Northumberland are magnificent.
