Persephone inhaled sharply. “By whom?” she asked in alarm.
“Well, if I knew that...” he murmured, his gaze going to the coach window nearest him. “Good God, what time is it?”
Her blonde brows furrowing in concern, Persephone said, “About two, I think.”
“In the morning?” Jack countered, straightening on the bench seat. He hissed as his other hand joined the first in holding his head.
“Yes. Shall I have Parker take you to your apartments? Are you still at The Albany?” She started to reach up to tap on the trap door, but Jack intercepted her hand.
“No need, my lady,” he replied, placing his other hand over the top of hers so he could hold onto it. “Might I be allowed to join you this evening? At least until I can sort what happened?”
Persephone inhaled softly, surprised at how he held her hand. He had done so in the past the very same way. A long time ago, when he had proposed marriage. Since she had already been forced by her father to accept the Earl of Castlewait’s offer of a marriage of convenience, she’d had to decline Jack’s offer.
At least she’d had the benefit of a few months of Jack’s attentions. A few months of young love and stolen moments. Despite the intervening twenty years, Jack still sported his handsome good looks, although these days he appeared a bit rough around the edges. His face, tanned from daily horseback rides, displayed creases on the sides of his eyes, and a scar from a wound he’d suffered due to the tip of a fencing foil marred his right cheek. The hair near his temples was nearly white, and his usual black hair was peppered with strands of gray.
The thought of him spending the night with her at March House had flutterbies dancing about in Persephone’s stomach. They hadn’t been together in a bed since the week after he’d taken her virtue all those years ago. “Of course you can stay,” she finally replied. “As long as you need.”
He nodded and then winced as the slight movement seemed to cause him pain. “I’ll be a perfect gentleman,” he said. “I promise.”
Persephone frowned. “And what if I don’t want you to be?” she asked in a whisper, barely loud enough to be heard over the sound of the coach wheels on the cobbles.
His eyes narrowed, and Jack allowed a wan grin. “Is that... is that an invitation?”
Her confidence faltered. “Would you accept it?” she countered. “Or have I grown too old for your tastes these days?”
For a moment, she wished she could have taken back her last words. But Jack Kirkpatrick, Earl of Wilmington, had a reputation of late. One that proclaimed he preferred younger widows and virgins. His name was synonymous with words likescoundrelandrakeandlibertine. His initials were frequently to be found in the articles printed inThe Tattler, London’s premier gossip news-sheet.
“Don’t believe everything you hear, Sephie,” he replied, tightening his hold on her hand. “Or read. And you’ll never be too old for me.”
Persephone grinned at hearing his pet name for her. No one but him had called her ‘Sephie’, not in her entire life.
“Damn, but I wish I felt better, because I’d really like to prove myself to you right now.”
Excitement at hearing his claim had Persephone’s insides reacting much like they had two decades ago. Merely seeing the earl filled her with desire. It was no wonder he’d been able to coax her onto a bed and have his way with her. The fact that he had known exactly what to do to incite frissons of pleasure back then had her happy to offer hospitality now. “Perhaps in the morning,” she whispered.
“I’d like that,” he replied.
The coach came to a stuttering halt, and the countess scoffed. “Well, I do believe we’re about to shock Parker. That is, if he didn’t know you climbed into my coach.”
Jack furrowed a brow, an expression of worry crossing his face. “I… I don’t remember getting into this coach,” he said, his voice once again betraying his confusion. Then his eyes rounded. “Did you... didyouarrange this? Did you have me drugged?”
Persephone scoffed, momentarily offended he would think such a thing. “I rather wish I did, but no, I assure you, it was not me,” she said on a sigh. “I would have hoped you would come of your own accord, if I’d sent you an invitation.”
His eyes narrowing briefly, Jack considered her words. “I would have,” he whispered.
The coach door opened and Persephone, heartened by his response to her last comment, allowed her driver to help her down the step. He was about to close the door, but she held up a staying hand. “Tell me, Parker. You said you didn’t drive away from Weatherstone Manor the entire night?”
The driver gave a start. “That’s because I didn’t, my lady. Just... I just stargazed all night,” he said on a shrug.
“Were youalwayswith the coach?”
Parker’s eyes darted to the side. “I... I might have stepped away a few times. To get a better view of the sky,” he admitted in a halting voice. “There’s a rather large tree on the one side of the Weatherstone property. It was in the way.”
“So... no one gave you any coins to look the other direction or... or to take on a passenger?” Persephone pressed.
His eyes rounding in confusion, Parker shook his head. “No, my lady. Nor would I have accepted,” he claimed.
“All right then?—”
