Page 98 of If the Duke Dares
“The same happened to me,” someone else said. “Couldn’t catch his attention at all.”
Persephone narrowed her gaze at him. “Did you pay them to say those things?”
His eyes were wide and clear, focused only on her. “No. I don’t want to flirt with anyone ever again unless her name is Persephone Barclay.”
“What if her name was Persephone Loxley?” another feminine voice called out, and Persephone would have sworn it was Acton’s mother.
His lips spread in that familiar, enchanting smile that never failed to make Persephone’s heart race, then cartwheel about her chest. “Well, I would flirt withher,” he said softly, moving to stand right in front of Persephone. “If she’d allow it. Marry me, Persey. Not because you should, but because you want to. Because I will spend the rest of my life making you the happiest woman alive. Because without each other, we will be despondent. Because Ineedsomeone to protect me from rats.”
Persephone wanted to laugh, to smile, to cry out with joy. But she simply stood there, unable to speak. Unable to do anything.
“If you don’t marry him, I will,” Somerton quipped.
Pandora elbowed Persephone gently. Rousing from her stupor, Persephone looked at her sister, who smiled and gave her a small nod. “He seems genuine,” she whispered.
“I should have asked you in private,” Acton added with a faint grimace. “I didn’t do this so you would have to say yes.”
“I know.” Because he was genuine. She believed that he loved her. “I want to say yes. I love you too, Acton. I accept your proposal.”
Instead of reacting with happiness or even relief, Acton closed his eyes and frowned, despite everyone around them cheering. He lowered himself to one knee. “I didn’t even do that part right,” he said, taking her hand. “Will you marry me, Persey?”
“I will.”
“You believe me, right? I am reformed. The only attention I want from any woman is yours.”
“No one who was as outraged by Bane’s behavior as you and who has worked to help the woman Bane wronged as you have could continue to live the life of a scoundrel.”
His shoulders sagged with relief as he smiled widely. He squeezed her hand, then got to his feet. “Damn, I wish I could kiss you.”
“Do you really think that would be any more damaging than anything else that’s happened to or been said about us in the last fortnight?” Pandora asked.
Acton sent her a nod. “Good point. I hope this is all right with you. Bane is no longer my friend.”
“I don’t blame you—or any of your friends—for Bane’s behavior. It’s past time for me to move on,” she added softly, with a confident smile.
“You are a magnificent young woman, Pandora. I am glad to call you sister.” Acton turned back to Persephone and bent his head to kiss her. His lips barely brushed hers, and it was over. “That’s all I dare,” he whispered.
“Come now,” Persephone said teasingly. “You’re a duke. I should think a duke would dare anything.”
“Later,” he said with a soft groan. “I am already half-gone, and I’m fairly certain we are about to be mobbed with congratulations.”
They were indeed, first by Somerton and Droxford, the former of whom was more effusive in his remarks. “Shocking turn of events, Acton,” the viscount said. “But I couldn’t be happier for you. It’s obvious you made an excellent choice.” Somerton took Persephone’s hand and floated a kiss over the top of it.
They moved on only for everyone else who’d been watching to form a line to offer their congratulations. However, Acton’s mother stepped in to redirect.
She leaned toward Acton and Persephone, speaking softly. “Do you mind if I make a formal announcement? Not that it’s necessary, but I would enjoy it.”
“By all means,” Acton said with a smile.
Persephone saw the love in his gaze—all for his mother—and any doubt she might have had that this man wasn’t capable of such emotion completely evaporated. It didn’t make sense anyway. How could such an amenable, charming, thoughtful man be devoid of the ability to love?
The dowager guided Pandora and Aunt Lucinda to stand beside Persephone while motioning for Acton’s sisters to join them. She gestured for them to stand on Acton’s other side, and her intent became clear—she was organizing a receiving line to allow for a better flow of so many people.
Persephone caught sight of her parents on the periphery and realized Acton’s mother hadn’t brought them over too. They did seem to be trying to make their way in this direction, but were having difficulty.
“Thank you,” Persephone murmured to the dowager who looked at her in question. “For not including my parents here.”
Her soon-to-be mother-in-law smiled warmly. “Of course, dear.” She straightened and lifted her chin before loudly declaring, “It is my pleasure and honor to announce the betrothal of my son, His Grace, the Duke of Wellesbourne to Miss Barclay. May they enjoy a lifetime of joy and love.” She beamed at them before taking her place at the start of the line.
