Page 50 of Courting Miss Lancaster
Athena shook her head, forcing back the sudden ache of tears in her eyes. Crying would not alleviate her frustration.
“What, precisely, has not occurred during these past weeks that you so desperately wish had?” Persephone asked.
“I didn’t fall in love,” Athena admitted before realizing she had spoken out loud. An embarrassed pink stained her cheeks—she could feel the heat of it.
In a voice even softer and kinder than she had used moments before, Persephone asked, “And how do you know you did not fall in love?”
Athena shifted to face Persephone again, confused at her question. “I would know if I was in love,” she insisted.
“Oh, Athena,” Persephone said, her tone suddenly very empathetic. “I have found that sometimes a person is the last to know when she is in love. One’s heart does not always share its secrets with one’s mind.”
“But I know how I would feel if I were in love, and I don’t feelthat way,” Athena protested. She had spent the past several days fluctuating between sadness and frustration. The pendulum was arcing once again.
Persephone’s small laugh was ironic in timbre. “How would you know how it feels, Athena, if you have never been in love?”
That was an argument she had not considered. Did a person not know, instinctively, how love felt? She had always assumed so.
“Come,” Persephone said, wrapping an arm around Athena’s shoulder and all but forcing Athena to shift in her seat and lean against her. “It is time for an older-sister confession.”
“Oh, dear,” Athena answered, surprised that she was smiling, even if the effort was probably an abysmal failure.
“When I first met Adam—when I firstmarriedAdam, the two were essentially simultaneous, you know—I had what I felt was a pretty solid understanding of what love is and is not and what makes a happy and successful marriage. I had so many vivid and detailed dreams of my future.”
Athena silently sighed. She had a great many dreams as well.
“I had always pictured living in a small, cozy home with a great many chickens just outside the front door and a large number of perpetually happy children running about the yard.” Persephone gave Athena a look that clearly communicated that she understood the irony of those expectations. “My home ended up being a drafty castle that could easily house a substantial portion of the London populace. There are no chickens anywhere near the front doors of Falstone Castle and, thus far, no children.
“I had further envisioned myself married to a gentleman who was openly affectionate, inherently gentle, and constantly offering tender words of adoration.”
Athena actually laughed out loud. Adam was the polar opposite of Persephone’s described dream husband.
“Before you snort too loudly in derision, allow me a moment longer to further my embarrassment.” But Persephone was laughing as well. She understood the discrepancy. “Father had always been that way with Mother, and it was, in my mind, firmly set as the only way two people in love interacted. I expected Adam to fit that mold so precisely that when he didn’t, I was discouraged, disappointed.
“The more I got to know him, the more I found about him that I admired and liked and preferred in a husband over the traits I saw in our father. However, my predetermined ideas of how love plays out did not allow me to realize that I was falling in love with him. Adam is not openly affectionate, and, in public, he is neither gentle nor tender. He is, in his own way, all of those things. I simply needed to open my heart in order to see him as he really was.”
“Then I should give up on all my dreams?” Athena couldn’t prevent the break that accompanied her words.
“Oh, Athena.” Persephone sounded a touch exasperated. “Artemis is supposed to be the dramatic one.” She shook her head even as she pulled Athena closer. “You can have all those things that are most vital to you. Think of what it is you truly wish for in a companion, a friend, a lover—for a husband is all of those things. I believe you will find that the exact events surrounding falling in love can differ dramatically but have the same end result.”
“I may not be swept off my feet by love is what you are saying.” The words felt both disappointing and oddly hopeful. How was it possible to be both at the same time?
“Love may very well creep up on you,” Persephone answered. “You will find yourself thinking about some gentleman who makes you smile just by smiling at you, who lightens your burdens simply with his presence, a gentleman whom you miss when you are apart and about whom you think duringa separation, a gentleman you could not imagine never seeing again.”
Persephone’s words conjured up thoughts of Harry. She had missed him, thought of him in the days since he’d left. He had always brought a smile to her face, had always known how to make her feel better when she was discouraged or upset. But Persephone was supposedly talking about love. Harry was a friend.
Persephone continued. “And quite suddenly your stubborn mind will realize that while it was logically and systematically searching for love, your heart had already found it.”
Her heart had already found love? But Persephone had described Harry. He was a friend, albeit agoodfriend, but nothing more. Wasn’t he?
Athena closed her eyes, her mind immediately filled with thoughts of him. Harry had lightened her burden so many times. He had held her so comfortingly and gently the night of Mr. Rigby’s assault. Harry had spent countless hours with her at Falstone Castle talking about more topics than she could even remember. He’d held her hand when she was in need of support. But where was the pounding heart, the symptoms of love and passion?
As if in response to her unspoken question, Athena’s heart leaped in her chest. One single recollection brought about the phenomenon. Harry had held her hand at the theater that evening. He had caressed her fingers in a way that had made her heart stutter and lurch. Then it all flooded in, memories of a look or a word from him that had brought a stain to her cheeks or a greater rapidity to her pulse. She had always dismissed the effect before.
“Oh, my heavens,” Athena whispered.
Persephone’s arm tightened around Athena’s shoulder. “I wondered when you would finally realize what I had longsuspected.”
“But he sabotaged me,” Athena insisted, confusion warring with the heady rush of realization. “He intentionally introduced me only to gentlemen I could never have been happy with. How could I love someone who despises me enough to do that?”
