Page 29 of If the Duke Dares
No, not like Pandora. Persephone would never allow herself to fall in love with someone such as Wellesbourne. Except…was he really as bad as Bane? He hadn’t ruined anyone as far as she knew. She could accept his help without exposing herself to his roguishness. She just had to remember the rules, and so far she wasn’t doing the best job of that.
Accepting his help was the smart thing to do. If her valise hadn’t been stolen, she wouldn’t have needed his assistance at all. Additionally, his point that he was paying for his sins by helping her was inarguable.
Anyway, that was what she was going to believe.
Would he come to her room if he received a letter from his mother? She had to assume he would.
Persephone hoped it would arrive today. She found she was growing more anxious about her parents’ reaction to what she’d done and what would come next.
Perhaps she ought to dine with Wellesbourne. She at least wanted to find out if he’d received a letter.
After an interminable afternoon, it was finally time for dinner. Persephone left her chamber eagerly and made her way downstairs where the common room was once again busy. Noise and heat greeted her.
Looking about, she noted the duke seated at a table on the other side of the room. And he wasn’t alone. He was sharing a table with the woman he’d been speaking with last night—the red-haired beauty. They were deep in conversation, their heads tilted toward one another. Their expressions went from intent to smiling. Then they laughed. She touched his sleeve. He didn’t seem to mind.
Why had Persephone thought for even a moment she should spend time with him? He was a callous rogue, always flirting with the next woman he saw.
Deciding to avoid him—surely, he would have notified her if he’d received word from his mother—she picked her way along the periphery of the room toward Moll, who was wiping a table. When she finished, Persephone intercepted her and asked for her dinner.
“I’ll go and fetch it.” Moll gave her an apologetic look. “But you may need to wait a bit. The cook burned herself earlier, and things are behind.”
“I understand, thank you.” Persephone moved to the wall and flicked a glance toward Wellesbourne. He and the gorgeous woman were still laughing and talking. It grated on her. But why should it? He wasn’t anything to her. Just a nuisance who insisted on helping her.
“Evening, pretty lady.” A man moved close to Persephone’s right. Too close.
His breath reeked of ale, and the rest of him just reeked. He leaned his face toward her. “Ye’ve got a room here, don’t ye?”
“Excuse me,” she mumbled and took a step forward.
The man grabbed her arm. “Don’t be uppity now. Let’s have some fun.” He leered at her before taking a drink from the tankard he held in his other hand.
Fear moved through her as her heart began to race. “No, thank you.” She pulled her arm from his grip, then shoved at him so he couldn’t grab her again. He stumbled, and his tankard tipped, covering him in ale.
Persephone didn’t hesitate. Nor did she care about her dinner any longer. She moved quickly toward the stairs.
Before she could reach them, Wellesbourne intercepted her. “There you are. I somehow missed you coming down. Is everything all right?”
“I’m fine,” she lied. She was still quivering with agitation—and fear that the man she’d just pushed would come after her. “I’m just going back upstairs. It’s too crowded down here.”
He frowned. Since he didn’t say anything about what had happened, Persephone presumed he hadn’t seen it. And why would he when he was focused on his tablemate?
“What about your dinner?” He glanced toward her empty hands. “I presume you came down to fetch it?”
“I think they’re too busy. I have some food upstairs.” She had a crust of bread. “Go on back to your lady friend.” Persephone looked toward the woman who was watching them with interest.
“She isn’t my lady friend,” he said. “What if I bring your dinner up to you?”
“No, thank you.” Persephone was growing more upset. She needed to get out of there! And she wanted to look to see what the man who’d grabbed her was doing, but she didn’t dare for fear of making eye contact. “Please excuse me.”
“Here comes Moll,” the duke said.
Persephone made herself wait while the maid navigated the common room. When she arrived with the dinner, it was all Persephone could do not to snatch the tray from her grasp and race upstairs.
“No waiting after all,” Moll said with a broad smile.
“Thank you,” Persephone managed with a forced smile as she accepted the tray. Then she whipped around and hurried upstairs.
Once she was in her room, she set the tray on her tiny table and went back to the door. She set the lock, which had felt loose since she’d arrived. Now, she worried it wouldn’t stay locked.
