Free Rescue Me Please by Nichole Matthews Page A

arms, then filled a cup with the still steaming pot of tea h oping it would help to ease the dryness in her throat .  He sat again , crossing his ri ght ankle over his left knee watching her slender throat working as she swallowed the sweetened brew.  “Miss Smith, I cannot fathom what circumstances led you to the predicament you now find yourself, but I can assure you I have not taken offense by any of your responses and neither has my aunt.”
    Persephone’s eyes stung with unshed tears, a hitch in her breath.  “I fear I must look a fright, my lord .”  Her hand rose to her hair in an attempt to smooth the mussed, wayward strands.
    Parker appeared to consider the comment thoughtfully for a long moment, his head cocked at an angle .
    Persephone sat with wide eyes waiting to see what he was going to do.
    Then he reache d out and touched a thick red ringlet that had fallen directly in the path of her right eye and tucked it behind her ear.  “There.”  His smile lit up his blue eyes. “Much better.  You would be an asset in any London ballroom, Miss Smith. ”
    She let out her pent-up breath, then looked about the room.  “I thought I heard you speaking w ith another.  Have they left?”
    Parker threw back his head and barked out a laugh, stunning her with the rich, husky sound, his unreserved outburst disturbing Tillie.  She let out a soft cry before t urning her face into Persephone’s breast and settling back down.  “ If you must know, I was speakin g with Tillie .” He nodded towards the infant.
    “Tillie?”   A small smile broke across Pe rsephone’s face at his comment disappearing almost as quickly as it had come , but it did not go unnoticed.
    Parker grinned over at her, totally unabashed.  “She is a fair listener, Miss Smith.” He smiled a smile that filled his entire face.  “And her manners are practically perfect, which is a compliment to her mother’s diligent teachings. ”  He shrugged.   “ She rarely interrup ts my long winded speeches.”
    It was Persephone’s turn to smile.  “A fair listener she is, the rest I cannot say.” She acknowledged before scooting back against the headboard and propping herself against the mound of pillows.  She paused, looking down at her daughter.  “She and I have had many a conversation on a lonely night.”   She stopped , her brow furrowed.  “Were you reciting a nursery rhyme, my lord?”
    A flash of color highlighted his sculpted cheekbones.  “Guilty, Miss Smith.”  He gave her a stare that ha d her fidgeting where she sat.
    She tightene d her arms around her daughter.
    “Where are you from, Miss Smith?”  He broke the silence by asking suddenly.
    Per s ephone straightened at the question her feelings of distrust now on high alert.  “Is it necessary for you to hav e that information, my lord ?”
    “How can I assist you, Miss Smit h, if I know nothing of you?” h e countered smoothly, leaning forward in his seat , his long, lean fingers curled over the ends of th e arms of the deep blue chair.
    Instead of answering, she made a statement, he r expression remaining guarded. “How can I trust you, I know nothing of you.”
    It seemed uncovering the truth would be a challenging undertaking.  “I have virtually unlimited resources and numerous acquaintances that could be at your disposal, Miss Smith, if you would but allow it.”
    “Why would you offer me that?”  Her eyes narrowed in suspicion and a look of puzzlement drew her fine brows.  “I am nothing to you.”   She exhaled hard.
    “I am well aware that you know nothing of me, Miss Smith.”  A solemn frown on his face, then tilted his head to look at her more closely.  “But why do you find it difficult to accept help when you so obviously need it?  Surely you will not allow your pride to overtake necessity.  Perhaps if you thought only of Tillie, then you would not find it as difficult to accept my aid .”
    Her expression was sad but she spoke