Parker glanced up at her as he chewed, smiling at her across the table. He needed no encouragement to stare at her, she was breathtaking and she made him feel alive. She and Tillie being in the house made him have a renewed sense of purpose. Something he didn’t realize he hadn’t felt in a long time. He had mastered the art of making money, rich beyond measure. He could say he was a master at love making and taking care of his family, but she made him feel something more with only a few words and hours of watching her sleep. She made him feel alive, full of vigor, and purpose. No matter how dark the purpose was. He pondered this response dozens of times throughout the past week. He rubbed his jaw at the low knocking that originated from the vicinity of Persephone’s seat.
Persephone’s foot tapped out a nervous staccato against the leg of her chair. She could feel his deep blue gaze upon her face, distracting and intense. Her throat suddenly parched, she reached for her wine goblet, trying to quell the shaking in her hand as she eased the cottony feeling in her mouth with a large swallow of the sweet liquid.
Parker’s bright blue eyes narrowed. “Is everything to your liking, Persephone?” He couldn’t hide the concern that pervaded his voice.
She nodded before answering, “Yes, Parker.” She then focused her attention back on her food. She was glad the food had not been overly covered with cream sauces. She was not certain how well her stomach would have reacted to such rich fare after so long surviving on meager rations.
“Excellent.” His dimple appeared. “We dine simply when we do not have guests. Have you had enough of the trout?”
A surprised smile flickered over her lips.
“That’s better.” He chucked her under her chin, surprising her.
He signaled for dessert. A lemon pudding was set before her along with an assortment of fresh fruits and cheeses.
Parker sat back and watched Persephone’s eyes light up at the ripe fruit. He took a sip from his glass of port taking pleasure in her enjoyment of their simple meal. Once finished, he leaned back, stretching his legs out before him.
After the dessert was eaten and the excess food removed from the table, Parker turned to his aunt. “I’ve promised Persephone a tour of the portrait gallery.” He flicked his gaze towards Persephone. “Would you care to join us?”
“No, thank you,” Adele replied holding up her hand. “I’ve seen all the Peregrine reprobates too many times to count. Tonight I believe I will retire to my room and read in front of the fire, but you two enjoy yourselves.” She pushed out her chair and walked out of the room before Parker could even rise from his chair.
Parker stood, pulling out Persephone’s chair and held out his arm. “Persephone?”
She shot him a startled glance. For some reason she was frozen in her chair. Her hands lay in her lap, laced together. Tightly. The idea of being alone with Parker, that’s how she thought of him now, Parker, excited her and frightened her. He made her want things that she could no longer have.
“Persephone?” he asked again quietly.
She stood giving him a sidelong glance. He smiled. She placed her hand softly on his arm. “Lead away.” She took a deep breath and raised her chin and he chuckled. “I really must see these Peregrine reprobates that you’ve mentioned.”
Parker let out a full-fledged laugh then, a robust sound that made her shiver. They stopped at the door in order for Parker to retrieve a heavy silver candlestick and then they began their stroll down the long mahogany paneled hallway over the black and white checked marble tiles. Persephone had feared an awkward silence would follow, but Parker was adept at filling the voids with delightful family anecdotes and not so secret scandalous tales from the Peregrine family history.
“Have you visited our library yet, Persephone.” He gestured toward a set of massive wood doors on the right.
“I’ve barely left my room.”
His lips twitched in amusement. “Then it appears we’ve found something to occupy your time tomorrow.” His cheek creased when he smiled. “I know you enjoy reading a good book. Lucy has informed me that you have already read through three volumes since the improvement of your health.”
She looked up at him with imploring eyes. “Can I take a peek now?” she asked somewhat breathlessly, her bottom lip caught between her teeth.
“Of course.” With the flush in her cheeks and the added pinkness to her lips from being worried between her small white teeth, he was hard-pressed to resist her eager request, especially when she was being so open with her emotions. He felt the need to reward her for allowing him a fleeting look behind the shutters that continually veiled her eyes and customarily hid her true feelings. He stopped and took a step back. Reaching behind her back to open the doors and stepped into the darkened room. A small fire still lit in the grate added a soft glow and pleasant warmth to the already pleasing atmosphere of the room.
Persephone stepped through the doors and stopped. Her jaw dropped. It wasn’t as if her family didn’t have a suitable library, but nothing that compared to this. It had seemed a lifetime since she had been afforded true luxuries, if only the horrors of the past two years would fade as quickly from her mind. She hadn’t realized she was holding her breath until she walked through the door sighing ever so softly.
Dark wood shelves were floor to ceiling on three walls. Wooden rolling ladders lay in wait against the shelves for someone to choose one of the thousands of leather bound books. There were two separate seating areas. Deep leather couches and chairs sat in cozy circles on either side of the large stone fireplace. A large sheepskin rug covered the floor in front of the low, crackling fire creating a warm and inviting area to lose oneself in an adventure. Half shelves lined the fourth wall. A black wrought iron spiral staircase swirled upward to an alcove. Her eyes followed the curving metal to the top. Heaven.
“We agree wholeheartedly with that sentiment.”
Persephone’s eyes raced to his face, her mouth dropping open and her hand flew to cover her mouth. “I hadn’t realized I had spoken aloud,” she added quickly.
He gave her one of his slow smiles that made her knees feel weak.
Parker watched her like a hawk. Feet braced, arms folded over his chest, aware of every nuance of change. The change in her breathing, her heightened color, and he noticed her eyes trained on the alcove at her reverent whisper. “There is additional seating above for privacy.” He pointed to the windows presently covered with heavy drapes. He moved quickly across the room as he spoke. “If you pull the curtains back there are large cushioned window seats behind each set.” He reached for the break in the fabric and pulled the edges apart a few inches revealing a thickly cushioned bench with mounds of fluffy pillows.
She smiled, spinning around, her arms widespread, her reserve forgotten for a stolen moment. “It’s heaven on earth.” She knew her smile must be radiant, because she could see it reflected in his eyes as he returned to stand in front of her.
Parker leaned against the back of one of the chairs; his face split into a pleased grin. He allowed her a moment to take in the massive room. For the first time since she had arrived, her expression was relaxed and carefree. He smiled crookedly at her. Pleased that if even for a moment he was able to relieve her eyes of the shadows that lurked in their depths. This made him fiercely determined to eradicate the shadows forever. “A woman who loves to read, it appears I am destined to be surrounded by them.”
“It has been so long.” He could hear the strong emotions in her voice and see the way her lip started to quiver.
Parker’s brows drew together. He needed to put an end to this sadness. “Would you care to choose a book to read, Persephone?”
“What about the gallery?” she queried softly, searching his face.
He almost chuckled at her question. “Have you an appointment with another?” His brow lifted.
“Of course not.” A faint frown appeared between her fine red brows.
He chuckled at the serious look that appeared on her face. “Th
en we’ve plenty of time.” Parker pushed away from the chair, he studied her as he moved closer. “The night is still young.” He walked towards Persephone with narrowed eyes, rubbing his bottom lip in a thoughtful manner. “Choose one.”
She faltered in her journey toward him at his magnanimous offer. “I could sooner pick a star in the heavens,” she replied at once, her cheeks flushed.
He wondered to the nearest shelf and ran the tip of his forefinger over the spine of one of the books almost reverently. “You’ve acknowledged that this is heaven,” he turned to face her. “Let these be your stars.”
She remained silent for a minute, her eyes wide as they traveled over the room.
He watched as she rubbed her palms over her skirt. “Perhaps I can be prevailed upon to assist you?” Parker watched as her smile faded, her spine stiffened, and her breath came in frantic bursts at his words.
“W-w-what would I have to do, my lord?” Her heart slammed behind her ribs in a doomful warning. No one did anything without wanting something in return, at least not according to her recent experience.
Parker stiffened at her question, furious that she would feel the need to even ask such a thing. He frowned thoughtfully, then Persephone watched as his bright blue eyes lit up with humor. He bent closer, lowering his voice to a conspiratorial whisper, “Read.”
She gave him a tentative smile, realizing he was teasing her. “Very well, my lord.” She let out a relieved sigh.
“Parker.” He tossed her a careless smile at his reminder.
She played with a fold in the fabric of her green gown. “Very well, P-P-Parker.” She softened her posture.
They were both silent for a time and she was well aware that he still watched her intently. Now he smiled slowly. “What would you prefer?” His eyes crinkled as he studied her with lively eyes. “Shakespeare? Wordsworth? Shelly?”
Biting her lips, she glanced around the library. “Perhaps Wordsworth?”
“I wondered lonely as a cloud…”
Persephone pursed her lips, shaking her head. “Shakespeare. I believe that would entertain.”
“Ah, a lover of Shakespeare.” He walked over to one of the shelves and ran his finger across the spines of the exquisitely crafted leather-bound books, plucking one from the shelf. “Let not the winter’s ragged hand deface in thee thy summer…” He stopped in front of her, bowed before placing the priceless work in her hand.
At that moment the large grandfather clock in the corner struck announcing the time to be half-past ten.
“When I do count the clock that tells the time…”
Her eyes opened wide as he quoted yet another work.
Parker explained at Persephone’s look, “Poppy’s husband is quite the expert on Shakespeare’s sonnets. Perhaps when you are done with this volume you will be able to give him a run for his money.”
He watched her smile, but didn’t wait for a response. He just reached for her hand and tugged her back out into the hall. “The portrait gallery awaits, my lady.” He frowned when he felt her stiffen yet again. “What is the matter?” His rough voice was quiet.
She hauled in a breath, shaking her head. “I’m not a lady,” she whispered, dropping her gaze, shielding her eyes from him. She shut her eyes in frustration.
“No matter what has happened to you in the past, Persephone,” Parker growled. “I can see in every line of your body and in every word that you speak, that you are a lady born and bred. Through and through.” He saw that she didn’t believe what he said, so he gave an example, “If someone harms a defenseless child.” He set his fingers under her chin, lifting her face to his scrutiny, feeling the way she wanted to pull back. “If someone harms a defenseless child,” he repeated, staring into her eyes, watching the multitude of emotions that flittered across her face. “Is it the child’s fault?” He watched her swallow, her eyes glinting. “Does it make the child, no longer a child?” He touched her cheek gently, arching a questioning, faintly expectant brow.
His touch was a jar to her body, but his words started to slowly loosen the knot of fear in her stomach. “No,” she croaked, tears welling in her eyes, threatening to spill. He rubbed his thumb over her cheekbone, the pad rasping over her skin until a shiver crept up her nape, tingles spreading over her scalp.
“Why would you think because someone harmed you, that makes you no longer a lady?” Parker frowned as he looked at her. He searched her face, even though he couldn’t look into the eyes she refused to raise.
She felt dirty. She felt weak. She felt useless and ruined. But somewhere deep inside she knew he was right. His words pulled at her. She bit her lip, but her chin still quivered. “I do not know.” She lifted her shimmering emerald eyes to meet his. His eyes were steady, not angry. Intent, not demanding.
“If you will allow.” His fleeting smile wasn’t reflected in his eyes he cupped her jaw in his large hands, his thumbs brushing away her tears. “Perhaps we can seek out that answer together?”
She looked at him confusion evident, her lashes tipped with tears.
He smiled down at her. She was tough, brave, and resilient and even after so short an acquaintance, he’d grown so fond of her and her daughter that he had trouble imagining his home without their presence.
“Why?” she asked with genuine perplexity.
Parker cocked his head, studying the way she had her arms crossed over her chest, slender fingers digging into her arms and a look of skepticism reflecting in her pretty green depths. “Why must you question everything?” A glint of humor appeared in his eyes and his lips quirked.
She regarded him for a minute, moistening her suddenly dry lips.
“Haven’t we had this conversation before, Persephone?” His eyes pinned her gaze to his.
She drew in a deep breath, her chest filling. She held it for a moment, feeling the pressure ease within her. She peered up at him appraising him with her green eyes. He made her head dizzy just from the power in his gaze. Could she trust him? She needed to think reasonably not with emotion, but the gentle look in Parker’s eyes helped make her decision easier. She realized the question wasn’t could she trust him, but would she allow herself to trust him? She chewed her lip, and then her chin jutted out with firm determination and nodded afraid that her voice would break.
“Excellent.” He lowered his hands from her face and held out his arm once again. “Reprobates wait for no one, Persephone.” A glint of amusement appeared in Parker’s blue eyes.
That drew a smile from her. “Then we must make haste, Parker.” She put her hand on his arm, drawing her shoulders back and straightening her spine.
His heart swelled at her strength. Once again he placed his hand over hers, brushing the back of her hand with his callused fingertips.
They went up a short flight of stairs and when they reached the door to the gallery, he held it for her. She stepped into a long hall a low fire burning in the grate to heat the room and dozens and dozens of portraits lined the walls standing at attention like soldiers in formation.
She exhaled and admitted. “Impressive.”
Parker turned to her. “Quiet with the praise.” He held his forefinger to his lips. “We are an arrogant lot, no additional praise is needed.”
She let out a laugh, full-bodied and real. No artifice, natural. It pleased him greatly to see her reservations being pushed further back.
“Would you like to start with the past or the present?” He watched as she actually thought seriously about his question, his lips quirked.
His grin distracted her. “Let’s start with the present.”
“Good choice.” He raised his candle and pointed to the last portrait that hung on the wall. “That is Poppy and her husband Hawksley.”
She lifted her brows in surprise. “You have a portrait of your sister and her new husband?” She found that odd.
“The third Marquis of Ashford began this tradition.” His voice was warmed by his smile. “And we haven’t deviated.” He chu
ckled. “I believe he wanted to show proof of the illustrious blood that runs through our family. Quite arrogant if you ask me.”
She tilted her head and studied the portrait. “Where did your sister get her blonde hair?” She turned, her eyes allowing them a moment to roam over his darkness.
“Everyone asks that same question,” he said. “Poppy and Peyton look more like our mother’s side of the family and Piper and I inherited the darkness from our father’s side.”
Her eyebrows drew together. “But aren’t Poppy and Piper twins?”
“Not a matched set, I’m afraid.” He smiled down at her, his deep blue eyes crinkling at the corners.
Persephone swatted at him playfully with her free hand forgetting any or all of her fears for a short span of time. It was freeing. She let her smile deepen; let laughter swell through her voice. “It does lesson their value to an extent.”
He had wondered if he would ever hear her laugh again. He gave her a warm smile before turning to the next portrait. “Here we are. Poppy, Piper, me, and Peyton.” His brow furrowed as he thought for a moment. “I believe I was around twenty-five. It was commissioned by my father the year before he died.”
Persephone’s amusement lingered until she stepped forward and the book she held fell heedlessly to the cold marble floor, her breath hitched and she gasped. Startled, fearful, she looked at the portrait more closely. It was him. His crown of blond hair and angelic face were hard to ignore, but what she had remembered the most were his eyes. There had been genuine concern reflected in their depths when he looked at her. He was Parker’s brother? How is that possible? Slowly she backed away from the picture a look of horror upon her face. She moved without realizing. She felt cold creeping into her. She felt vulnerable. She felt her stomach knot and bile rise in her throat at the lost feeling creeping through her. The echoing silence grew ominous in the cavernous room making her heartbeat seem overly loud to her ears.
“Persephone?” Parker stepped toward her as tension suddenly radiated from her body. He watched as she shuddered. From fear or something else he couldn’t be quite sure. Perhaps it was a combination of a multitude of feelings. He reached out a hand and she flinched. He lowered his hand back to his side. Two lines appeared between his brows, and his mouth tightened. “Persephone?” he prompted a second time, worry lacing his tone.
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