“You are feeling more the thing, Persephone?”
“Yes, my—Parker.” Her pulse fluttered when he said her name.
“Good. Then we have much to celebrate this evening.” He couldn’t contain his grin. “My sister, Poppy, has delivered a son and all are doing well. My aunt and I are asking you to join us for dinner this evening to celebrate this happy event.”
“I have nothing to wear.”
Parker looked at her with a hint of amusement in his eyes, even after her ordeal she responded as any typical woman would. Vanity. “I will take care of the details, Persephone.” He smiled. “You only need to say yes.”
“In that case, P-P-Parker, it would be rude of me to refuse your hospitality.” He watched her lashes lower, hiding her eyes for a moment. Dark brows shot up when she stumbled over his name, his bright blue eyes lighting up with humor. Then he rose in one fluid movement to make his departure, making a polite bow, clasping Persephone’s hand briefly but firmly before he left.
She flushed a little and shifted her gaze, an odd fluttering in her stomach at the subtle scraping of his callused hands against her soft skin, not at all what she would have expected from a gentleman.
“We dine at six.”
Her eyes followed him as he walked to the door, surprised by her body’s reaction to his touch. She never thought that she would feel anything but disgust for men, but he was making her feel much more. He was making her feel safe.
***
Granville tossed his drink back, then reached for the decanter and poured another. Fury surged through him as he thought of her living in squalor, filth, hunger.
The ungrateful bitch actually preferred living as a pauper to being with him?
He was appalled that anyone associated with him would be walking around a beggar, dressed in rags. She was an embarrassment.
He gulped the rest of his brandy, then hurled the empty glass. It flew across his study into one of the tall windows, shattering the glass and crashing onto the terrace. It did nothing to alleviate the rage coursing throughout his body. Not as satisfying as breaking bones and hearing screams of pain, but it would have to do for now.
His study door burst open. “My lord?”
Granville’s hard gaze moved to the intruder. “Did I call for assistance?”
His glare made Peterson swallow hard. He took a few steps back. “No, my lord.”
He leaned back in his chair, his hands crossed over his still flat stomach. The mess must be dealt with at some point. Desire flashed in his eyes as the elegant, slim man skidded to a halt in front of his desk and his mouth slowly twisted in a semblance of a smile. “Kneel and clean up this mess.” His mouth watered and he wiped his damp palms against the legs of his trousers, arousal shooting through him.
“My lord?” Peterson questioned not looking Granville in the eyes, then swallowed because he knew what the punishment was for his disobedience and a part of him needed it.
“Kneel.” A command.
And Peterson dropped to the floor; chest heaving he kept his eyes down with his hands palms up on his thighs a thick erection obvious at the fall of his trousers.
“Good boy.” Granville patted his head. “If you do a good job, perhaps I will reward you.”
CHAPTER EIGHT
Oh, hush the, my baby,
Thy sire was a knight,
They mother a lady,
Both lovely and bright
Not long after Persephone left her bed, there was a scratch at the door. She sat up straight in the chair she was occupying by the fire and lowered her feet to the floor before placing one of the books Lord Ashford had delivered for her enjoyment on the table to the right of her.
“Miss Smith,” Lady Peregrine called. “May I come in?” Adele stuck her head around the door her smile bright when she spotted Miss Smith.
“Of course, my lady.” Persephone stood in greeting nervously pleating the skirt of the robe she was wearing.
Lady Peregrine entered along with two maids, Lucy from the previous day and another young lady. Each carried a dress over their arm.
“Did Parker invite you to dine with us this evening, Miss Smith?”
“Yes, my lady.” Persephone inclined her head, her eyes traveling over the pretty gowns. It had been so long since she had worn anything that nice. She felt a shiver of excitement at the thought. She lifted her hand to her hair in an attempt to smooth it further and lifted her eyes to meet that of Lord Ashford’s aunt. Parker. He had asked her to call him Parker. It was such a foreign concept, but he had insisted. She would need to remember that when they met up for dinner. Parker.
“Good.” Lady Peregrine waved the maids in. “We found some dresses that might be of a size and I wanted to have you try them on so that we can have one altered for you to wear to dinner this evening.”
She watched as the maids carried in two exquisitely crafted dresses. She recognized their design from La Belle Assemblée a few Seasons past. In fact, she was sure that she had one of two of that design in her armoire at home. She sighed at the thought of home. It was no longer her home. She had no home to speak of anymore. No family in which to seek shelter.
“Is there nothing else?” She stared at Lady Peregrine. “I cannot allow you to destroy these dresses for one dinner.”
“Oh,” Adele said tilting her head. “Are you planning on leaving us on the morrow?”
“No, my lady,” Persephone replied. “I had hoped to impose on your hospitality a bit longer.” She lowered her eyes. Embarrassed at what she took as weakness.
Adele looked amused. “Well then, my girl.” She gestured to the maids standing before the cheval glass and lifted a dress with tiny lilac flowers and held it in front of Persephone. “You will be eating more than one dinner with us, I daresay.” Her brow raised in question.
“Yes, my lady,” Persephone managed to reply.
“We’ve managed to get into the habit of eating dinner on a nightly basis.” Adele’s lips twitched. She watched the girl’s reaction to her teasing as if she needed to insure the jest before reacting.
Persephone hesitated. “You’re teasing me, my lady.”
“Then I won’t hear another argument.” Adele glanced toward Lucy, motioning to set the first gown aside. “Bring me the second gown, Charlotte. I believe it is better suited to Miss Smith’s coloring.”
So Persephone stood in front of the mirror as Lucy removed her borrowed night rail and laced her into a borrowed corset and lowered the borrowed gown over her head.
Adele stood with her finger tapping her chin; her eyes narrowed and motioned with her other hand for Persephone to spin around. “I wouldn’t take too much in, Charlotte.” Adele flashed a grin in Persephone’s direction. “After a few meals prepared by Mrs. Hastings, we may very well have to let out the seams again.” She motioned for Charlotte to continue pinning. “You will look splendid in this gown.”
“Thank you, my lady.”
“I believe we can dispense with formalities,” Adele said. “Parker has already asked you to call him by name. You can do the same with me. You may call me Adele or Aunt, whichever is more comfortable.” She studied Persephone’s reaction, seeing that she looked tangled by the request.
Persephone stood still for a moment feeling a little disoriented by how accepting the Peregrine’s were despite the circumstances of their meeting. So she took a deep breath and said, “Thank you, Adele.” The words rushed out on an almost strangled breath, but she said it all the same.
“Well, Persephone.” Adele smiled. “Let’s get this dress altered so that you can take a proper bath.” She reached out and squeezed Persephone’s hand.
So Persephone clamped her lips shut and endured the poking’s and prodding’s, and tugging’s and pulling’s, if only to please Adele for she doubted she would ever have means enough to repay their generosity.
“Perfect.” Adele smiled. “I will leave you to finish preparing for dinner.”
Persephone stood in the
doorway, her mouth open. According to Lucy, the bathing room was built between the twins’ suites and accessible through both of their dressing rooms. The bright, gleaming white marble covered floor was a sharp contrast to Persephone’s grimy feet. She was almost embarrassed to be in the room.
“The large cabinets are filled with additional linens and cakes of soap, Miss Smith.” Lucy smiled as she pointed to different areas of the small chamber. “If you need anything, pull the chord.”
“Thank you, Lucy.” Persephone stared at the copper tub lined with linen that was now filled with steaming, sweet-smelling bath water topped with frothing bubbles. She inhaled deeply, her eyes falling closed at the calming scent of lavender that hung in the air.
She removed the blue silk wrapper given to her by Lucy and lowered herself into the steaming water with a heartfelt sigh. She could feel the tension melting from her shoulders as she sank up to her chin in the fragrant water, a loud deep moan of pleasure emanated from her throat and tears streaked down her face. It wasn’t as if she had never bathed before, but the simple routine made her realize what she had missed over the past few months. Years even. What had been taken from her. She lay back, closed her eyes and allowed peace to wrap her in its comforting embrace. After soaking for about a quarter-hour she began to feel marginally better.
She slid further down in the tub wetting her hair, then rising. She enjoyed the refreshing feel of the water sluicing down her body. Lifting her arms, she wiped the water from her face and squeezed the excess water from her hip length hair. She picked up the cloth lying over the lip of the tub and ran it down her left arm over her collarbone to her right arm. Her eyes closed at the soothing feel of the warm water cascading over her body. She was going to savor this moment. She was going to stay in the water until it cooled and goose flesh covered her skin. Unknowing when she would next have opportunity to wash with warm water, let alone soak in a heated tub.
After she bathed and was sitting in front of the fire drying her hair, a maid scratched on the door and entered.
“Pardon, miss.” She curtsied. “M’lady sent me to help you with your dress and hair.”
Persephone stood and sat at the vanity table. “What is your name?”
“My name is Nancy.” She curtsied again.
Persephone smiled as she looked at Nancy in the mirror. “I fear you are in for a chore. My hair is quite tangled.”
“I will be gentle, miss.” Nancy concentrated on the task.
She sat back trying not to openly wince as Nancy pulled the brush through the nests of tangles hidden beneath the heavy mass of curls, then pinned it into an elaborate coiffure.
Persephone stared at her reflection in the mirror. She didn’t recognize herself. She felt as if she were heading to a ball and not a simple family celebration. She turned puzzled eyes to Nancy. “I thought this was an informal meal?”
Nancy blushed. “It is, miss, but your hair is ever so beautiful and with the ladies gone, I rarely get to practice.”
“It is lovely.” Persephone smiled. “I feel like a princess.”
“Pleasure, miss.”
Persephone sat quietly for a moment biting her bottom lip contemplating if she should even voice her question with a maid, but she was curious.
“Nancy?”
“Yes, miss?”
“To whom does this house belong?”
“You don’t know, miss?”
“I know this is the home of Parker Peregrine and I’ve heard him called Lord Ashford, but lord of what?”
“Why he is the Marquis of Ashford.”
“Marquis of Ashford?” she squeaked her hands flying to her suddenly hot cheeks. “I have been rude beyond belief to a marquis and he has been nothing but kindness to me.”
“M’lord is always kind.” Nancy’s smile one of someone infatuated. “I wager you would be unable to find a single person that would speak ill of him.”
“I’m sure you are right,” she whispered. The Marquis of Ashford. She knew the name of Peregrine had sounded familiar. She was well aware of the family’s reputation for kindness and frivolity.
Persephone stood and Nancy dressed her in sheerest chemise, laced her into a corset and then lowered the emerald green high-waisted cotton gauze, lined with cotton broadcloth that was altered for her that afternoon over her head. Matching buttons trimmed with matching grosgrain ribbon at the waist with long sleeves and hem trimmed with cream lace. The color matched her eyes perfectly and enhanced her red hair. She felt beautiful.
Persephone was rather pleased as she stood back from the vanity and twirled in front of the cheval glass adjacent to the vanity to have a better look at her borrowed gown. Simple, yet elegant. Exactly what she would have chosen for herself. She didn’t even care that it was two seasons out of date. She couldn’t remember when she had ever felt so beautiful in all of her life and just for tonight she was going to forget about what her future held and enjoy the company.
“If you find that hard to fathom, miss, you should hear the rest. Lady Poppy married the Duke of Hawksley the summer past and Lady Piper married the Earl of Rockwell at the end of the Season. They are his lordship’s twin sisters. Mischievous angels he’s been heard to say.”
Persephone sank onto the seat in front of the vanity and let Nancy continue speaking as she puttered around straightening. “Lord Ashford and Lord Peregrine are yet unmarried. Lord Peregrine is m’lord’s younger brother.” Nancy looked up when she completed her final task. “Do you need anything else, miss?”
“No, thank you, Nancy,” she said. “You’ve been most kind and helpful.”
As soon as the door closed she stood and stared at her image in the mirror once more. She smoothed her hands over the bodice of her dress down her sides to linger at her quivering belly, fighting against the urge to flee. But she wanted to eat dinner with him. She felt something when she was with him that was not fear and that surprised her. She had never expected to feel anything but fear again. Because of him she felt more like herself than she had in years. More like a woman and less like an object. She longed to explore those feelings. To embrace the freedom that she had currently, not knowing when it would end. And now she no longer felt ugly. She blinked back the welling tears.
Why was this so hard?
She wasn’t afraid of Parker, but it was as if her mind refused to cooperate and panic would overwhelm her. She refused to allow her fear to rule her life, so she squared her shoulders, took one last glance in the mirror and made her way downstairs with the directions of one of the upstairs maids.
She paused in her descent to admire the artwork and tapestries along the way. Three levels of priceless works of art. She could probably stare at them for days and not become bored with their subjects or their beauty. Her favorite depicted a bucolic scene of four small children cavorting with sheep in a meadow that hung on the wall of the final landing. Intricate work that must have taken years to complete hung silent, still, and possibly unnoticed by most after years on display.
Parker stood on the stairs dumbfounded. Speechless. Was this the same girl who only days prior had stood before him tangled and covered in dirt? She was breathtakingly beautiful. The hunter green gown chosen by his aunt enhanced every good physical quality she possessed. His gaze ran over her body taking in her tiny stature and gently rounded backside to her perfect profile as she studied the tapestry. One advantage of sneaking up on a person was being able to see the entire person without apology. He tamped down his desire and dragged his gaze up to the back of her expertly arranged hair. The thick mass of deep red curls begged for a man’s touch which did nothing to ease his rapidly growing desire. His fingers itched. He needed to put a damper on the flash of desire that threatened to set him on fire. He blinked. Damn his eyes. Damn his lust. Damn Persephone for fleeing her cocoon so soon and emerging a magnificent butterfly. And he might as well add his disobedient anatomy.
He gave his head a hard shake in an attempt to clear the sudden fog that was cloudin
g his brain and making him think of unmentionable, yet delightful acts that regrettably he hadn’t participated in quite a long time and had no business participating in with Persephone.
He was evidently bored, restless, and lonely. Damn, he needed a mistress, someone at his beck and call at all hours of the day. He couldn’t take someone here, so near to his home. When it was over he might have to see them again and that would be particularly awkward. Besides, he had grown up with everyone in Ashford and couldn’t imagine performing sexual acts with them.
His jaw tightened. He would just need to go to Town. Blast! He had too much to think about right now and one of those thoughts shouldn’t be about a lost woman who had been in bed weak with hunger only days prior.
“That particular tapestry is my favorite.”
Persephone was surprised to find the sound of his deep, rumbling voice caused a yearning deep in her soul, setting her hand over her quivering stomach. She whirled, almost startled to find Parker stopped half-way up the stairs looking at her with a curious half smile, the corners of his eyes crinkled, and gold glinted in his hair from the lit wall scones spaced evenly down the staircase.
Her cheeks were lit on fire and her face felt immensely warm. She didn’t know whether from fear or from awareness. She was a little unnerved by the reality of him. He was magnificent, almost too perfect which scared her. She had seen men who appeared perfect when in polite society, but behind closed doors—she shook her head to clear the disturbing thought. She exhaled shakily.
“My lord.” She twisted her hands in front of her. She wanted to dwell on more pleasant subjects such as Parker’s physique and how his evenings’ attire displayed it to perfection. He wore a double-breasted frockcoat in dark blue which turned his eyes a bright blue over a buff waistcoat and gray trousers and a simple knotted snowy white cravat. Sedate, yet elegant and perfectly matched her opinion of the man.
“François Boucher.” He leaned back, resting his back against the railing and crossed his arms enjoying the beautiful blush that highlighted her cheekbones. “My father paid a small fortune for it.”
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