Page 14 of If the Duke Dares
Then why did you abandon me?
The question hovered on his tongue, but he didn’t let it out. What would be the point? That was all in the past. She was here now, and she was trying.
“I don’t want you to leave,” he said. Besides, she resided in the dowager house. It wasn’t as if she were underfoot or meddling in his business. Except for this marriage nonsense—which he’d agreed to in order to avoid suffering the Marriage Mart. “Please apologize to them for me. Say I am tired from my journey and preoccupied with the business to which I must attend.” Neither of those things were a lie. Acton was a trifle fatigued after rising so early and now he would leave again. And he was also fixated on finding Miss Barclay.
“There is no need to apologize. Perhaps this wasn’t the best idea.” She gave him a sheepish smile. “I just wanted to help you.”
“Which I appreciate. Perhaps the match with Miss Barclay will work out yet.” He nearly laughed. The woman who’d tried to drown him in Madeira would surely not become his duchess.
That didn’t mean he wasn’t going to try and help her. Because whatever the reason, she shouldn’t be traipsing about by herself pretending to be a widow. She might very well encounter someone who wouldn’t be put off by the contents of a glass of wine to the face.
He would help her, whether she wanted it or not.
Chapter5
The spartan room at the Black Ivy Inn in Gloucester began to close in on Persephone. She’d kept to her room with the exception of fetching her dinner the previous night and breakfast that morning, then walking to catch the mail coach to Bristol. Only to find out it had been canceled for some unknown reason.
So now she was stuck for one more night in her pitiful room with its incredibly lumpy mattress and ill-fitting lock on the door.
Groaning, she stood up from the chair and went to the window. It was in desperate need of cleaning.
How had she come to be here?
Because she’d encountered a string of bad luck after deciding to flee from her parents and their awful marriage scheme. Perhaps that was fate telling her she’d made a mistake.
No, she didn’t believe that. This was still better than marrying a reprobate, even if he was a duke.
Yesterday, after arriving in Worcester, she’d discovered she’d missed the mail coach to Bristol. Weighing whether she ought to spend money on an inn or on a private coach, she’d decided on the latter. However, the only thing she could afford was someone who was already going to Gloucester and would take her that far.
She determined it was better to get there and spend the night than have so far to travel tomorrow. Except, she hadn’t calculated her funds correctly and once she arrived in Gloucester, she could not afford to stay at the New Inn where she’d lodged the previous night.
She’d been forced to move away from the High Street and managed to find an acceptable, albeit shabby, inn, the Black Ivy, with a monosyllabic innkeeper and a pair of pretty maids whose costumes revealed more than Persephone would have thought necessary for the employees of an inn.
“Blast it all,” Persephone muttered. She turned from the window and grabbed her hat and gloves before leaving the chamber.
After setting her hat atop her head, she pulled on her gloves as she walked down the stairs. The two maids were cleaning the common room, which it desperately needed. Persephone had come down to dinner last night only to take her plate right back up to her room upon finding the inn too crowded and the boisterous men too many. That morning, she’d warily descended for breakfast only to see that the common room was in dire need of repair after last night’s activities. She’d once again plucked up her meal and retreated to her room.
Becky, with pale blonde hair and the younger of the two women, was wiping down the tables while Moll, who was older than Persephone by a few years and sported wispy brown hair, swept.
Pausing in her task, Becky called over to the other maid. “Moll, did I tell ye the cathedral is looking fer a cleaning woman? I thought I might try fer the job.”
“They’ll frown on yer evening work,” Moll said with a laugh. She glanced toward Persephone. “Do ye need something, Mrs. Birdwhistle?”
Persephone had adopted the surname of her governess, whom she still missed. The woman had guided her and Pandora with a firm but kind hand. When Persephone thought of a mother’s love, Mrs. Birdwhistle came to mind.
“I don’t, thank you. I thought I might go for a walk.”
“It is a nice day,” Becky said. “I’m going to try to get out meself for a bit.”
“To the cathedral?” Moll asked with a teasing smile.
Becky shrugged. “Why not? It might be better than working here.”
“But not as fun, I’d bet.” Moll swept the detritus she’d amassed into a neat pile.
Departing the inn, Persephone made her way toward the High Street, where the nicer inns were located. She’d inquired at two of them before realizing she needed to look elsewhere for lodging within her budget.
As she turned a corner, she saw a woman sweeping a stoop and noted the sign above the door, “West Gloucester Day School for Girls.”
