Page 3 of Good Duke Gone Cold

As she lifted her torso from the ground and began to put weight on her foot to get up, she stumbled. “Ack! I believe I may have twisted my ankle.” Jonathan was right there and caught her up in his arms.

“Ooof! Ok hang on. I’ve got you.” But it did not feel at all like he had her. “Let’s be off. Hang on tight.” And he started to amble down the pathway in hopes of meeting up with Margaret. Mary’s head bumped against his chest and her arms were uncomfortably settled on her stomach. Just then Jonathan tripped and lurched forward. Mary grasped for his neck as he recovered his footing. This did not feel safe at all.

“Darn roots! If I can stumble, being as athletic as I am, I see how anyone could have done so just as easily.” His chuckle lightened the mood and put Mary at ease for her earlier stumble, but she was unassured of her current level of safety in his arms.

“Give the chit to me before you break her neck,” Gregory demanded with a scowl.

“I’m not a chit! And I’m not just some piece of–” before she could finish Jonathan handed her off Gregory.

“She’s all yours! I’m going to find Margaret and give her something to think about.” With that he laughed and ran off leaving Mary in Gregory’s strong, capable arms, and resting against his solid, warm chest. It was safe, and it felt like home.

That was the moment she fell in love with him.

That solid, warm chest was the same solid, warm chest that she was now resting against. She pulled her mind to the present and pushed herself away from Gregory.

His harsh cold voice doused her heart like ice water, “Lady Edwards.”

Chapter 2

Rule2.Arm’slength.Not sweet-scented head on chest. Not trim fitted waist in hands. Arm’s length.

Gregory refocused his mind to keep people at arm’s length. This way no one could get hurt. Not him. Not them. Not anyone.

With his hands on her waist, he pushed Mary back a few paces, then patted her on the head. Space.

He reminded himself of why he was back home in the first place. He needed to make some decisions about the estates and repairs, he needed something to preoccupy his time, and he needed a biddable wife.

“Isn’t it just fantastic that you should decide to come home now?” Margaret beamed. “You will absolutely be the icing on the cake this summer.”

This summer? Gregory wondered.

“Bugsby, please ring for tea in the drawing room.”

“Yes, my lady.” The beanpole of a butler bowed and left the three standing in the entrance hall.

“Shall we?” Margaret gallantly held out both of her arms and led Gregory and Mary to tea.

This is not what I need right now. Memories. Feelings. Unreadable men. I’ve been there and done that. He just sees me as Margaret’s annoying little friend. Besides, I need to focus on my play and become the woman I know I can be. If I can hold out until my twenty-fifth birthday, I’ll receive the trust fund from my parents and then I can truly live my life as independently as any man. Well, as any woman with a moderate income living in the country hidden away from the public eye is allowed to live.

Mary’s parents gave her an inordinate amount of freedom, mostly due to the fact that they were often out of the country and couldn’t impose much beyond a lady’s maid and the trust they had in Margaret’s family to take her under their wing.

Margaret’s hands were clasped together resting on her turquoise silk tea gown. Her eyes matched the shimmering fabric and Mary sensed some especially juicy news was about to depart from her friend’s restless lips.

“It is so exciting! To think mother and father are finally doing it!” Her eyes gleamed. “Oh the last overindulgent actions of freedom. It will be such a great summer. Almost as great as the summers where Mary and I would follow you and Jonathan around wreaking all kinds of havoc.” She put her hands to her lips, “Oh I remember the day we met. That was–”

“What is so exciting?” Gregory’s harsh tone cut in. Thank God. Mary could already feel the heat climbing from her neck to her ears. She could only hope that Gregory hadn’t noticed and had his own reasons for interrupting the telling of that particular memory.

Margaret glanced back and forth between Gregory and Mary. “You don’t know?” She shook her head at her brother. “How could they not have told you? You’re always the last to hear. But that’s been because you’ve been away. I thought they would have told you this time knowing that you would be here.”

“Might you consider less rambling and more clarifying?” Gregory pointed out, attempting to curb his acerbic inclinations.

To no avail.

“Merciful heavens, well, I just thought most assuredly that they would have told you. If not both of them at least one of them. They have been in correspondence with you before you returned home, have they not? I mean, at least I would have expected it to be so. I do hope you do not decide to up and run away once you hear what they have planned.” As Margaret continued hurtling down the tracks with this derailed chatter, Mary felt her hands beginning to clam up. This was not just something that Gregory didn’t know, this was also something Mary didn’t know about, and it carried a deepening sense of foreboding sinking into her skin.

“What who has planned?” Mary asked.

“Why our mothers!”Margaret’s eyes widened. “You mean you didn’t know either?”

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