Page 21 of If the Duke Dares
There were also undergarments, which should have shocked her. Or offended her. The man was a known rake, and she ought not accept gifts from him. The bath had been far too much. But the thought of dressing in her travel-worn clothing after the refreshing bath made her want to weep.
Her gaze lingered on the bedclothes. Surely, she could keep those? Just for the night, then she could return them to him at the New Inn.
Exhaling, she turned to the hook near the door and froze when she saw it was empty. What had happened to her gown? Persephone had hung it there before slipping into the bathtub. Had Moll taken it when she’d come in? Persephone hadn’t noticed, but with the door ajar, the maid could have grabbed it on her way out without Persephone seeing.
Now she wouldhaveto wear the new gown. Since her undergarments were still on the bed, she decided she would don those. That way she wasn’t acceptingeverythingWellesbourne had offered.Ifit was indeed the duke who had arranged the bath and purchased these items.
By the time her hair was dry and she’d dressed, noise from the common room was already filtering upstairs. It sounded as though it would be another busy, boisterous evening. The innkeeper’s son had come to empty the tub and remove it, and he’d said they were expecting as much.
As with last night, she would go down only long enough to request her dinner on a tray so she could dine here in her chamber. Alone with her pair of candles.
Using the cracked mirror on the wall, Persephone pinned her hair up and admired what she could see of the pretty new gown. She would hate to return the garment, for it fit rather well despite being slightly short. Alas, she could not keep it. Unless, she learned it hadn’t come from the duke.
But who else would have given it to her? Persephone doubted she would like the answer to that.
She covered the bed and pillow with the new sheeting and had to credit Wellesbourne’s consideration. It was one thing to want her to look nicer—she could see him desiring that for himself if not for her—but to ensure her comfort when she went to sleep? That was not something she would expect from a rake such as he.
Perhaps he truly did want to help her without expecting anything in return. Or, more likely, he’d purchased the bedding because he hoped to continue his seduction and wanted to be sure the bed was clean and comfortable.
That would certainly align with him not telling her parents that he’d met her. That puzzling fact lingered in her mind. Why keep that from them? Unless he’d planned to seduce her. She just didn’t understand his motivation.
She recalled what he’d said about her parents. He seemed to find her father’s discussion of a marriage settlement premature and annoying. That had to recommend him, didn’t it?
Or, mayhap he wasn’t remotely interested in a possible marriage and had only agreed to the meeting to appease his mother. That was something a rogue like him would do.
The reasons for his behavior mattered not. She was done with the Duke of Wellesbourne. For good.
She left the chamber for the common room. The scent of dinner, specifically of whatever seasonings were being employed, wafted from downstairs, and her stomach growled in response. Last night’s meal of lamb stew had been surprisingly tasty.
Rounding the corner on the landing of the stairs, she surveyed the room. It wasn’t as crowded as last night, but that could very well change. She caught sight of a pair of gleaming Hessians jutting out from under a table. Lifting her gaze, she inhaled sharply.
Wellesbourne had returned.
He lounged near the hearth, gripping the handle of a tankard sitting atop the table. His lips were spread in a wide, engaging smile as both Becky and Moll stood nearby. They stood in such a way, slightly leaning toward him, as to encourage him to view their bodices, which were cut lower than anything Persephone had ever worn. But then, Persephone’s wardrobe was universally demure. In fact, now that she thought about it, the gowns that Pandora wore were more enticing than Persephone’s. She’d always attributed it to Pandora just being more appealing but perhaps their mother had purposely dressed them differently.
And why wouldn’t she?
Persephone shook away thoughts of the baroness and watched as the duke flirted with both maids. Didn’t they have work to do? Persephone wanted her dinner, but didn’t wish to interrupt them. She hoped to avoid speaking to the duke at all.
Except, she ought to thank him.
Or should she? There was nothing to indicate he was behind the bath, the gown, or the bedding. He was just the most logical answer.
If he wasn’t going to be open about what he’d done, why should she bother showing her gratitude? They could pretend none of it had happened. Yes, she preferred that.
The maids finally took their leave of him, and Persephone continued down the stairs. Naturally, another woman, very attractive, with red hair and dark, sultry eyes, sidled up to the duke as soon as they left. The man was a magnet for women. But not for Persephone.
Staying on the opposite side of the room, she made her way to where Becky was currently speaking to a table with a trio of men. One of them slid a glance toward Persephone and gave her a suggestive smile.
Persephone pivoted so she could see Becky from the corner of her eye, but not the men at the table. When Becky was finished with them, Persephone intercepted her and asked for her dinner.
“I’ll fetch it for ye in a bit, dearie. We’re very busy tonight, as ye can see. Why don’t ye find a place to sit, and I can bring ye an ale or a glass of wine?” She bustled off before Persephone could say she had no intention of sitting anywhere. If she did that, she had to expect the duke would consider it an invitation to join her.
Or, he’d just approach her as he was doing now.
Persephone stiffened as he came near. He was almost unbearably attractive, with a heartrending smile that made her want to giggle like a green girl. His features were superbly chiseled, as if he’d been created from the work of some ancient master sculptor—strong jawline, enchanting dimples, a provocative set to his mouth. He looked as though he was always on the verge of smiling, as if his good humor simply could not be contained. Was he never sad or bored or angry?
She knew he could appear surprised. He’d displayed that quite wonderfully both when she’d tossed wine at his face and when she’d run into him on the street.
