Seeking Persephone (13 page)

Chapter Twenty-One

“And Mrs. Adcock grew up in Shropshire as well,” Persephone told Harry as they sat in the sitting room after dinner a week after the Pointers’ visit to Falstone. Harry, though still not entirely his usual energetic self, had recovered sufficiently to join her and Adam for meals and wander from his room during the day.

“You’ve met Mrs. Adcock?” Adam jumped into the conversation. He didn’t sound pleased.

“At the vicarage.” She’d made the three-mile journey twice in the past week. A handful of ladies from the area had been present on her first visit. More than a dozen had greeted her upon her arrival that afternoon. “She extended an invitation to us to take supper with them.”

Adam looked thunderous on the instant.

“She seemed to be expecting me to turn the invitation down,” Persephone quickly added. “So I had little difficulty in doing so.”

He relaxed a trifle.

Persephone tried to keep her disappointment buried. The Lancasters had ofttimes dined with the families in their neighborhood. She missed that interaction, missed knowing that she had friends nearby.

“Who else was at the vicarage?” Harry asked.

Thankful for the approval she heard in his tone, Persephone took up the conversation again. “Mrs. Milston and her daughter. Lady Hettersham.” Adam mumbled something unintelligible at that. At least he was listening, Persephone told herself. “Miss Greenburrough.”

The sitting room door opened, cutting off the list Persephone had only begun to relate. Barton entered with his familiar silver salver bearing a rather thick letter.

From Artemis? Or Papa, perhaps? Persephone watched his entrance with eager anticipation. Barton stopped at Adam’s side.

So not from home, after all. Persephone tried to refocus her mind but found the task nearly impossible in her disappointment. The longer she was away from her family, the more she missed them.

“What did you think of our resident spinster?” Harry asked.

For a moment, Persephone fumbled over the question but then realized he referred to Miss Greenburrough, whom she’d mentioned meeting during her visit that afternoon.

“She was very quiet, so I was not able to form much of an opinion of her.” Miss Greenburrough’s head of gray hair had reminded Persephone so forcefully of her grandmother that she felt certain she would like the lady.

“Persephone.” Adam cut into the conversation. He held his letter out to her.

“It is for me?”

“It is addressed to me,” he answered. “But it will explain the other letter.”

“The other letter?”

Adam all but dropped the letter into Persephone’s lap, at which point she realized that along with a single sheet of high-quality parchment was a second, sealed letter. She began with the opened missive.

Your Grace,

Lord Barham, First Lord of the Admiralty, has relayed to me your inquiries regarding two midshipmen aboard the HMS
Triumphant.
As captain of the
Triumphant
, I will make every attempt to provide you with the information you seek.

Midshipman Evander Lancaster, as you have been informed, succumbed to injuries sustained at Trafalgar and, as with most lost at that time, has been buried in a cemetery on Gibraltar alongside his fallen shipmates.

Midshipman Linus Lancaster—

Persephone held her breath. How long she had waited to have news of Linus. Her uncle’s inquiries had produced nothing. She’d alternately pictured him lost at sea and horribly injured or ill. There would be no more wondering now, and in a way that frightened her.

“Go on, Persephone.” Adam apparently noticed her hesitation. She would have expected impatience from him but heard none in his voice. “It is not bad news.”

Midshipman Linus Lancaster sustained only minor wounds in that battle and remains aboard the
Triumphant
. He will, of course, be granted shore leave when we return to home port. Our navigator has begun tutoring young Lancaster, as he has found the lad to have a natural aptitude for nautical mathematics.

The Admiralty has instructed me that should Midshipman Lancaster wish to leave the navy and return to his family, he will be permitted to do so and receive an honorable discharge from the Royal Navy. Should he remain, however, I am further informed, upon completing the required six years of service, a lieutenancy will be purchased for him.

I have enclosed a brief missive from Lancaster to his sister, the Duchess of Kielder.

I am pleased to have been of service in this way to Your Grace and remain,

Your humble servant, etc.

Captain Gregory Hattfield, HMS
Triumphant

Persephone eagerly grabbed the letter sealed and lying on her lap. She studied the handwriting but didn’t find it familiar. Evander had always written in behalf of both brothers. Could this truly be a letter from her baby brother? The brother she’d feared for weeks was lost forever?

She pressed the letter to her heart, fighting back a fresh flood of tears. She hadn’t cried in days.

“I thought you said it was good news,” she heard Harry say under his breath to Adam.

“Oh, it is.” Persephone quickly answered for him. “I am only . . . oh, overwhelmed, I suppose. My brother Linus is alive and well, you see.”

Harry smiled at her. “That is good news.”

“I will probably weep like a baby when I read his letter,” Persephone said with an amazed laugh, the shock of actually holding a letter from Linus, almost as if he were back from the grave, had her wits at loose ends. Persephone stood, still clutching the letter for dear life. “If you will excuse me, I’d rather do so without witnesses.”

Harry and Adam rose as she did. Only then did Persephone realize that Captain Hattfield’s letter had fluttered to the ground when she’d risen. She scooped it from the floor. “I am sorry, Adam,” she said, unsure why she kept smiling like a ninny. “I’ve dropped your letter.”

He shook off her apology. “It is truly more yours than mine.”

She realized in that instant just how true that statement was. Adam, according to the letter, had written to the Admiralty inquiring after her brothers. How had he known her uncle’s attempts were proving fruitless? What had inspired him to take up the effort? The First Lord of the Admiralty himself had become involved, all resulting in the precious piece of paper Persephone knew she would treasure always.

Adam was uncomfortable with gratitude; Persephone had seen that before. But she couldn’t possibly let such an enormous gesture go unrecognized. She felt almost giddy with relief and budding joy.

“This is by far the kindest thing any person has ever done for me.” Persephone knew she was gushing, but she couldn’t seem to help herself. She knew Harry wouldn’t mind, would likely simply smile. He had, in fact, quite tactfully wandered to a far window, allowing her to offer her gratitude in relative privacy. “Thank you, Adam.” She ignored Adam’s immediate dismissive gesture. “Thank you so, so much.”

She felt like spinning, the way she had as a little girl when ending a game of bowls the winner. Then she would jump up and down and squeal in delight. And Papa would lift her into his arms and demand a kiss as recompense for his disappointment in being trounced so thoroughly.

In that moment, Persephone felt the same heady feeling of triumph, filled to overflowing with gratitude toward the gentleman who so often seemed not to care one ounce. He did. She knew he did. He cared enough to write a letter, and that letter had brought her the one she still held to her heart.

“Thank you,” she said once more, stepping to where he was and lightly kissing his left cheek, placing her hand on Adam’s chest for support.

She felt her face heat at the gesture of gratitude but did not regret her actions. She needed him to know that what he’d done went beyond the ordinary polite interest most people took in the suffering of others.

Relieved that he, at least, didn’t object to her offering, Persephone smiled a little shyly and stepped away, determined to run all the way to her rooms and devour Linus’s letter.

She didn’t manage a single step. Adam reached for her—something he’d never done before—and with a look of intense determination, he pulled her back to her previous position, hand pressed to his chest.

He kissed her. Not on the cheek, not a friendly greeting, but a kiss unlike any she had experienced before, made even more remarkable by the fact that it was entirely unexpected.

Persephone felt certain that, even outside in the dead of night during the winter, if Adam were to kiss her that way again, she wouldn’t feel a hint of cold. It was warm and comforting and unsettling.

As abruptly as he’d pulled her to him, Adam released her, stepping back. He looked shocked, even confused.

“You do that very well,” Persephone heard herself whisper. Then, mortified that she’d spoken the thought out loud, she stepped further away from him. “I . . . um . . . I’ll just go . . . read my letter.”

“That would be a good idea.” Adam sounded oddly distracted.

Persephone didn’t need to be told twice. She stepped from the sitting room, head spinning, heart hammering.

Suddenly Persephone understood why her dear friend Harriet Upton had allowed their lifelong friend George Sanford to kiss her in the apple orchard three years earlier. And, she thought as the heat spread through her cheeks, it was no wonder Harriet had married him a few short months later. If George had kissed Harriet the way Adam had kissed Persephone, it was only a wonder that Harriet had had the ability to speak clearly enough to accept his proposal.

* * *

Adam dropped into his chair the instant Persephone left the sitting room. What the devil was wrong with him? He’d just kissed her. And for no particular reason, except that he’d wanted to. He couldn’t even explain to himself
why
he’d wanted to.

Yes, he could. Because she’d kissed him. No one had ever kissed him, except Nurse Robbie when he was a little boy. But why had Persephone’s gesture inspired him to return the offering? He didn’t like not knowing why he’d done something. If he didn’t understand it, he might do it again.

“I just kissed Persephone,” Adam muttered to himself, too confused to say much else.

“I noticed.”

Adam gave Harry a disapproving look. “You were supposed to be politely looking elsewhere.” Why was it Harry always seemed to be witness to Adam’s most distressing moments?

“I think Persephone noticed as well.” Harry ignored Adam’s grumbled comment. “Which is a good thing, by the by. If she hadn’t even realized you were kissing her, one would begin to wonder about your technique.”

“Shu—”

“I know, ‘Shut up, Harry.’” He laughed.

Adam had been regretting the letter he’d sent to the Admiralty almost from the moment he’d posted it. If Persephone’s uncle had been able to provide her with even a modicum of information about her brothers, then he wouldn’t have been required to intervene. That, of course, didn’t explain why he’d taken the extra step of informing the Admiralty of his intention to purchase a lieutenancy for Linus when the time came. With Adam as his sponsor and the Admiralty behind him, Linus could make a fine career for himself in the navy, if he chose it.

It made sense. But Adam still couldn’t explain why he’d involved himself.

“Persephone seemed happy with her letter.” Harry cut into Adam’s thoughts.

Yes, Adam thought, biting down a smile. She had seemed very happy.

“Considering you handed it over to her, I am assuming it was not a request by a secret admirer for a clandestine meeting.”

“It was a letter from her brother.”

“The youngest one, the one who was missing?”

“No, Harry,” Adam answered sarcastically. “The one who is dead. Of course the younger one.”

“That’s a rather harsh tone to take with someone only days out of his deathbed. A man who politely stared out the window while you accosted your wife.”

“You neither kept your eyes diverted nor were in any danger of succumbing to your cold. If I thought for a minute a cold could do you in, I personally would shove you into Falstone Lake during the next snowstorm.”

“A refreshing swim could be nice.” Harry nodded.

Why did the man never take any of Adam’s threats seriously?

“I am going to assume, based on Persephone’s rather warm response, that the news of her brother was not only good but arrived courtesy of you, somehow or another.”

“In a moment of insanity I sent a letter,” Adam grumbled.

“And knowing you, you probably went straight to the Admiralty.” Harry laughed. Almost immediately he reined in his amusement. “You did, didn’t you? That got results, I daresay. Even the Royal Navy bows to the Duke of Kielder.”

“That’s treasonous, Harry.”

“But true. A letter from the Duke of Kielder could overthrow a kingdom.” Harry looked thoroughly amused. “It certainly closed up the Boar and Dagger in a trice. I heard Smith, the innkeeper, was none too pleased with that.”

“He was a scoundrel,” Adam said. “Any man who would charge a pound a piece for quill, ink, and paper, so a sick man could send for medical help, then provide him with no nourishment while he waited, ought not be running an inn.”

“From what I’ve heard, he was livid when the magistrate shut down the inn,” Harry said.

Adam shrugged. Mr. Smith of the Boar and Dagger would certainly not be the last person he’d make livid.

“Like I said—” Harry smiled “—the Duke of Kielder could run the country with a simple snap of his fingers.”

Adam would never have said so out loud, but Harry was more correct than he realized. Should he choose to, Adam could have more influence over the course of the war with France than the Crown and the rest of Parliament combined. But he had enough problems.

For one thing, he had a wife whom he had inadvertently discovered he very much enjoyed kissing. He hadn’t foreseen that complication. He’d always intended to remain as unaffected and undisturbed by his wife as he was by everyone else.