Page 49 of Courting Miss Lancaster
He glanced up at Jane, watching him expectantly and hovering near the chair Harry occupied. “I believe I can read it without assistance,” he hinted with a smile. “If I come across anydifficult words I will consult the children’s governess.”
“You always were a bit too cheeky,” Jane replied, smiling as broadly as ever. “Be warned. I shall use all my devious powers of persuasion to force a recounting out of you.”
“I don’t doubt it.”
Jane made an overly dramatic face meant, he guessed, to represent those devious powers she had referenced, complete with wiggling fingers pointing supposedly threateningly in his direction, before turning and leaving him to the quiet of the sitting room.
Harry broke the seal on Persephone’s letter and read quickly.
Harry,
Forgive me for intruding on your time with your sister, but I am writing most anxiously. The household is in utter chaos, I fear.
Artemis is unwell, an infectious fever not unlike the one Athena only recently recovered from. The state of Artemis’s health has sent Adam’s mother back into the country, she being most agitated when confronted with illness.
Daphne has grown oddly pensive, and not even Adam seems able to ascertain the reason for her very heavy state of mind.
Athena spends a great deal of time—far too much if you ask me—with tears hovering in her eyes. She has grown pale and does not smile as she once did. When I try to ask after her well-being, she simply tells me she is fine and changes the subject.
Adam is grown grumpy in this house full of emotional women, and I am at a loss. I know it is inexcusable of me, but I would ask a favor. Will you please return to London, even for only a week or so, until we are prepared to leave for Falstone Castle? If you could only keep Adam from being entirely irritable, then I could deal with the remaining crises.
Please come if you can.
Gratefully,
Persephone
Athena was apparently quite unhappy. Harry’s heart wrenched at the thought. She had been like that after Persephone’s wedding, the first time Harry had met her. But a few kind words of reassurance had set her mind at ease and lessened her burden. What could he possibly say or do to help her now? She despised him, distrusted him.
But then Persephone hadn’t asked him to come for Athena’s sake. He was to entertain and distract Adam, something that was remarkably easy to do. A few cheeky remarks about how nonthreatening he found his friend and a joke or two, and Adam would cheer up—as much as Adam ever did.
Harry could do that. But it would mean possibly seeing Athena again, seeing her with tears in her eyes, unhappy, and being unable to do anything to help.
Perhaps he was simply masochistic. Harry knew being back at Falstone House, being near her again, knowing she was angry with him, would be torturous. And yet he was already on his way to his room to pack.
Chapter Twenty
VW
“I find myself struggling tobelieve that there is anything so enthralling about the back gardens as to have captured your undivided attention for a full thirty minutes.”
Athena smiled a very little, turning slightly on the window seat to look at Persephone as she sat beside her. “I was lost in my thoughts, I suppose.”
“A state you seem to regularly assume of late.”
“I have had a great deal on my mind,” Athena admitted, turning her gaze back to the frozen expanse of plants and walkways behind Falstone House, the window fogging with the warmth of her breath.
“This has been a busy few months for you,” Persephone replied. “Some moments of reflection are expected. However, I would have thought those recollections would be... happier. You have seemed a bit unhappy, dearest. I have been reluctant to ask why, as I do not wish to pry, but I find I am growing concerned. It is very unlike you to be in the dismals for so long a period of time.”
“I am not truly in the dismals—” Athena began the automatic protest. In all honesty, she was absolutely drowning in the dismals.
“Athena,” Persephone interrupted, “I know you better than that.”
Athena felt her sister take her hand, squeezing it the way she always had when they were young girls and Persephone wascomforting her. There had been a great many circumstances during their childhood that had warranted reassurance: their mother’s death, pending financial ruin, the defection of friends as their situation grew more destitute, loneliness. Persephone had been almost as much a mother during those times as she had been a sister. Athena needed a mother’s wisdom and advice then more than ever.
Athena sighed, the sound heavy with resignation, even to her own ears. “These past weeks have not gone at all as I anticipated.” The slightest catch in her voice gave away the level of her distress, and Persephone squeezed her fingers more firmly. It was comfort enough for Athena to continue. “I have dreamed for years about having a London Season, and instead of being delighted, I find I am... disappointed.”
“Your experience did not match your dreams?” Persephone asked gently.
