Authors: Nichole Matthews
“W-w-what would I have to do, my lord?” Her
heart slammed behind her ribs in
a doomful warning.
No
one
did anything without wanting something in return, at least not accor
ding to her recent experience.
Parker
stiffened at her question
, furious that she would feel the need to even ask such a thing
. He
frown
ed
thoughtfully, then
Persephone watched as his bright blue eyes lit up with humor.
He bent closer, lowering his voice
to a conspiratorial whisper
, “Read.”
She gave him a tentative smile, realizing he was teasing her.
“Very well, my lord.”
She let out a relieved sigh.
“Parker.”
He tossed her a careless smile
at his reminder
.
She played with a fold in the fabric of her green gown.
“Very well, P-P-Parke
r.” She softened her posture.
They were both silent for a time
and she was well aware that he
still watched her intently. Now he smiled slowly. “What would you prefer?”
His eyes crinkled as he studied her
with lively
eyes
.
“Sh
akespeare? Wordsworth
? Shelly?”
Biting her lips, she glanced around the library. “
Perhaps
Wordsworth
?
”
“
I wondered lonely as a cloud
…”
Persephone
pursed her lips, shaking
her head. “Shakespeare. I believe that would entertain.”
“Ah, a lover of Shakespeare.” He walked over to one of th
e shelves and ran his finger across
the spines
of the exquisit
ely crafted leather-bound books,
plucking one from the shelf.
“Let not the winter’s ragged hand deface in thee thy summer…”
He stopped in front
of her, bowed before
plac
ing
the
priceless
work in her hand.
At that moment the large gra
ndfather clock in the corner
str
uck
announcing the time
to be half-past ten.
“When I do count the clock that tells the time…”
Her eyes opened wide as he quoted yet another work.
Parker explained at Persephone’s look,
“Poppy’s husband is
quite the
expert on Shakespeare
’s
sonnets. Perhaps when you are done with this
volume
you will be able to give him a run for his money.”
He watched her smile, but didn’t wait for a response. He just reached for her hand and tugged her back out into the hall. “The portrait gallery awaits, my lady.” He frowned when he felt her stiffen
yet again
. “What is the matter?” His rough voice was quiet.
She hauled in a breath
, shaking her head
.
“I’m not a lad
y,
”
she whispered, dropping her gaze, shielding her
eyes
from him.
She shut her eyes in frustration.
“No matter what has happened to you
in the past
, Persephone,” Parker growled. “I can see in every line of your body
and in every word that you speak,
that you are a lady
born and bred
.
Through and through.
”
He saw that she didn’t believe what he said, so he gave an example,
“If someone harms a defenseless child
.
”
He set his fingers under her chin, lifting her face to his scrutiny, feeling the way she wanted to pull back.
“If someone harms a defenseless child,” he repeated, staring
into her eyes
,
watch
ing
the multitude of emotions that flittered across her face
. “
Is it the child’s fault?
” He watched her swallow, her eyes glinting. “
Does it make the child,
no
longer
a child?”
He
touched her cheek gently, arching
a questioning, faintly expectant brow.
His touch was a jar to her body
, but his words started to slowly loosen the knot of fear in her stomach
.
“No,” she croaked
, tears welling in her eyes
, threatening to spill
.
He rubbed his thumb over her cheekbone, the pad rasping over her skin until a shiver crept up her nape
, tingles spreading over her scalp
.
“Why would you think bec
ause someone harmed you
,
that
makes you no
longer
a lady?”
Parker frowned as he looked at her. He searched her face, even though he couldn’t look into
the eyes she refused to raise
.
She felt dirty.
She felt w
eak
. She felt
useless and ruined. But
somewhere
deep inside she knew
he was right.
His words pulled at her.
She bit her lip
, but her chin still quivered.
“I do not
know.”
She lifted her shimmering emerald eyes
to meet his.
His eyes were steady, not angry. Intent, not demanding.
“If you will allow.
”
His fleeting smile wasn’t reflected in his eyes
he cupped her jaw in his large hands, his thumbs brushing away her tears
.
“Perhaps we can seek out that answer together?”
She looked at him confusion evident
, her lashes tipped with tears
.
He
smiled down at her.
She was tough, brave, and resilie
nt and even after so short an
acquaintance, he’d grown
so
fond of her and her daughter that he had trouble imagining his home without their presence.
“Why?” she
asked with genuine perplexity.
Parker cocked his head, studying the way she had her arms crossed over her chest, slender fingers digging into her arms and a look of skepticism
reflecting in
her pretty
green depths
.
“Why must you question everything?” A glint of humor appeared in his
eyes
and his lips quirked.
She regarded him for a minute, moistening her suddenly dry lips.
“Haven’t we had this conversation before, Persephone?”
His eyes pinned her gaze to his.
She drew in a deep breath, her chest filling. She held it for a moment, feeling the pressure ease within her
. She peered up at him
appraising him with her green eyes
.
He made her head dizzy just from the power in his gaze.
Could she trust him?
She needed to think reasonably not with emotion
, but the gentle look in Parker’s eyes helped make her decision easier.
She realized the question wasn’t
could she trust him,
but would she allow herself to trust him? She chewed
her lip, and then her chin jutted out with firm determination
and nodded
afraid that her voice would break.
“
Excellent.
”
H
e lowered his hand
s from her face
and held out his arm once again.
“Reprobates
wait
for no one
, Persephone.
”
A glint of amusement appeared in Parker’s blue eyes.
That drew a smile from her.
“Then we must make haste
, Parker
.”
She put her hand on his arm
, drawing her shoulders back and straightening her spine
.
His heart swelled at her strength.
Once again he placed his hand over hers, brushing the
back of her hand with his call
used fingertips.
They went up a short flight of stairs and
when they
r
eached
the door
to the gallery
, he held it for her.
She stepped into a long hall a low fire burning in the grate to heat the room and doz
ens and dozens of portraits lined the walls standing at attention like soldiers in formation.
She exhaled and admitted. “Impressive.”
Parker turned to her
. “Quiet with the praise.” He held his forefinger to his lips. “We are an arrogant lot, no
additional praise is needed.”
She let out a laugh, full-bodied and real. No artifice, natural. It please
d
him greatly to see her reservations being pushed further back.
“Wou
ld you like to start with
the past or the present?” He watched as she actually thought seriously about his question
, his lips quirked
.
His grin distracted her.
“
Let’s start with the present.”
“Good choice.”
He raised his candle and pointed to the last portrait that hung on the wall. “That is Poppy and her husband
Hawksley
.”
She lifted her brows in surprise. “You have a portrait of your sister and her new
husband?” She found that odd.
“
The third Marquis of Ashford began this tradition.” His voice was warmed by his smile. “And we haven’t deviated.” He chuckled. “I believe he wanted to show proof of the
illustrious blood that ru
n
s
through our family.
Quite arrogant if you ask me.”
She tilted her head and studied the portrait. “Where did your sister get her blonde hair?” She turned, her e
yes allowing them a moment to roam over his darkness.
“Everyone asks tha
t same question,” he said. “Poppy and Peyton look more like our mother’s side of the family and
Piper and I inherited the dark
n
es
s from our father’s side.”
Her eyebrows drew together. “But aren’t Poppy and Piper twins?”
“Not a matched set,
I’m afraid.” He smiled down at her
, his deep blue eyes crinkling at the corners
.
Persephone
swatted at him playfully with her free hand forgetting any or all of her fears for a short
span of
time. It was freeing. She
let her smile
deepen;
let laughter swell through her voice.
“It does lesson their value to an extent.”
He
had wondered if he would ever hear
her laugh
again
.
He gave her a warm smile before turning
to the next portrait. “Here we are.
Poppy,
Piper, me, and Peyton.” His brow furrowed as he thought
for a moment
. “I believe I was around twenty-five. It was commissioned by my father the year before he died.”
Persephone’s amusement lingered until she stepped forward and t
he book she held fell heedlessly to the cold marble floor
,
her breath hitched and she gasped
.
Startled, fearful, she looked at the portrait more closely.
It was him
. His crown of blond hair and angelic face were hard to ignore, but what she had remembered the most were his eyes.
There had been genuine concern reflected in their depths when he looked at her.
He was Parker’
s brother?
How is that possible?
Slowly
she
back
ed
away from the picture a look of horror upon her face
.
She moved
without realizing
. She felt cold creeping into her. She felt vulnerable. She felt her stomach knot and bile rise in her throat
at the lost feeling creeping through her.
The
echoing
silence grew ominous
in the cavernous room making her heartbeat seem overly loud to her ears.