“And he is with Mama,” Linus added, sounding his age for the first time in the two hours since he’d arrived at Falstone.
Persephone held his hand more tightly and bit down on her lip to stop its quivering. She would not spend a single minute of Linus’s short visit in melancholy reflections.
“If I had known, Midshipman Lancaster, that your intention in visiting here was to make your sister cry, I would not have invited you.” Adam’s stern reprimand cut the air.
Persephone glanced nervously at Linus. Would he be upset? Offended? But Linus was smiling at Adam, looking as though he were very near to chuckling.
“You have guessed my devious plot with alarming precision, Your Grace. Every young navy man wishes to bring his female relatives into varying states of hysteria on every possible occasion.”
Adam raised an eyebrow, but his lip twitched with suppressed mirth. How odd that these two, so different in many respects, had already reached an accord with one another. Linus, after two hours at Falstone and one brief conversation with the Duke of Kielder, had learned to not fear his new brother-in-law but return his own dry humor.
Persephone couldn’t have been more pleased.
“And apparently,” Adam went on, “you are also intent on bringing Persephone down to her deathbed.”
“Alas, it is true.” Linus shook his head, those envy-inducing curls shaking with him. “Though I have momentarily forgotten how I intend to do that.”
Adam didn’t miss his cue. “By keeping her out of doors on a cold late afternoon when she ought to be inside where it is warm and staying off her feet so she will have the stamina to endure the ball being thrown here tomorrow night in her honor.”
“Ah, yes. I remember now,” Linus said. “Though I suppose since you have discovered my plot, I shall have to give up my ill-fated scheme.”
“I am afraid it was inevitable.” Adam gave Linus a look of condolence before turning to face Persephone.
She smiled—he no longer averted his face. That was decidedly a good sign. “Persephone.” He held his hand out to her.
She laid her hand in his. Linus placed his hand under her elbow and helped her to her feet. Then her brother retrieved the walking stick Jeb Handly had carved for her, allowing it to take his place at her side.
Linus walked back toward the garden entrance. He had, indeed, grown, and in more ways than the physical difference between eleven years and thirteen. He wore an aura of maturity that went beyond his age. The naval uniform, of course, only added to the effect.
“You seem pleased,” Adam said.
She looked up at him. He still stood directly in front of her, closer than he used to stand. He’d taken to shorter distances in the week since their desperate ride through the forest. Every time she found him in such close proximity, Persephone forced herself not to simply throw her arms around him, to tell him how much she treasured his caring, to tell him how brave he’d been, how much she longed to close the distance between them. But in the past he’d always pulled away at the first sign of intimacy. She wouldn’t for the world undo the progress they’d made.
“I have missed my brother,” she said.
“He is not at all what I expected.” Adam walked with her in the direction of the castle.
Persephone looked at him out of the corner of her eye. Adam did seem pleased with Linus.
“From your description, I expected an infant.” Persephone had the distinct impression that Adam was barely preventing himself from smiling. “Imagine my shock when he walked out of the carriage unassisted. No leading strings or nursemaids in sight.”
“Adam Boyce, are you teasing me?” She hoped her shock sounded feigned enough to not offend him. She’d more than once seen Adam close up after what he perceived as a criticism.
“I never tease.”
“You also, apparently, never host balls. Yet you are doing exactly that tomorrow.”
“I am beginning to suspect I have begun a descent into senility.”
“You are in the oddest mood this evening.” Persephone shook her head in awe.
Adam glanced over at her, obviously seriously pondering something. The moment stretched before he abruptly pulled his gaze away. “You have no idea,” he muttered.
The walk back to the castle was necessarily slow. Persephone’s sore leg hampered her progress, though she didn’t regret taking Linus to her garden, the part of Falstone that felt most like her own. She wanted Linus to see her happy. Perhaps he would convey that impression to the rest of her family—their letters of late had hinted at concern for her.
Their slow progress gave Persephone time to ponder Adam’s sudden shift. She had no complaints. She loved this unforeseen playful side of him, but it confused her. If she understood what had brought the change, she would be easier.
They reached the front steps of Falstone, and Persephone realized she’d pushed her battered body more than she ought to have. With the assistance of both her husband and brother, she climbed to the front door.
