Page 76 of If the Duke Dares
Acton recognized the handwriting—it was from Persey. Knowing her parents were now in Bath, he immediately grew concerned. His pulse picked up speed as he opened the parchment and read the contents.
I regret that I will not be able to join you for tea at the Pump Room this afternoon. My parents have arrived in town and matters have become complicated. I will explain to you in person if you could meet me in the garden again this evening at the same time.
Yours,
Persey
Yours.And she’d signed with her sobriquet again.
Acton’s disappointment as well as his anger toward her parents were tempered by a sense of giddy warmth. He was desperate to know how her parents had complicated things and could hardly wait to see Persey tonight.
“Good news?” his mother asked. “It’s hard to tell because you frowned and then you smiled.”
Refolding the letter, Acton tucked it into his pocket. “Miss Barclay is not able to meet for tea this afternoon due to her parents’ arrival.”
The dowager nodded. “I am delighted you were able to meet Miss Barclay here. How did you come to know she was in Bath?”
Disliking that he had to repeat the lie, Acton hesitated. “I, ah, I called on her at Radstock Hall and learned she was here in Bath.”
“Thatis why you are here,” the dowager said with a faint smile. “And how have things progressed between the two of you?”
“We’ve only met a few times,” he fibbed again, thinking that he or Persey was going to forget something at some point and draw attention to their fabrications. If anyone learned the two of them had met without a chaperone and spent several days alone together, including in the same bedchamber overnight, the scandal that Pandora had endured would pale in comparison.
“With plans to meet again today,” his mother observed. “I’m sorry you aren’t able to go to tea. Were you meeting at the Pump Room?”
“We were.”
“We met Miss Barclay at Sydney Gardens,” Cecily said. “I liked her. She struck me as very sensible.”
“How encouraging to hear,” their mother said. “I trust she’s recovered from her malady?”
“She seemed quite robust,” Francesca answered.
Sensible. Robust. These were not the first words that came to Acton’s mind. She was wickedly clever. Fiercely independent. Remarkably fearless.
That made him think of the rat incident. She was also in possession of a spectacular sense of humor.
And she was beautiful and seductive. Utterly irresistible.
He couldn’t wait to hold her later, to soothe her anger or fear, whatever her parents’ arrival had caused her to feel.
“I look forward to renewing my acquaintance with her,” the dowager said. “We shall have to plan another outing.”
“Or we could host something here,” Acton found himself saying. “If you’re amenable, of course.”
“What sort of something?” Francesca asked.
“We could hold a soiree like we do during the Season,” their mother said, her eyes growing animated.
“Mama’s soirees are legendary,” Cecily said, casting a knowing look toward their mother and Francesca. “Would you really want to have one now, before the Season has started, Mama?”
“Why not? Hosting Wellesbourne’s potential bride as well as providing a public way to endorse her sister is a wonderful reason. Girls, you can help me prepare invitations, and I’ll have them sent around later this afternoon.”
“I can help too,” Acton offered. The emotional turmoil he’d felt earlier had lessened.
Francesca arched a brow at him. “How’s your handwriting?”
He lifted a shoulder. “Passable.”
