Page 49 of Good Duke Gone Cold

“Thank you.”

“I’ll see my way out.” Gregory rose to call a footman to attend to Dr. Gant just as he turned to say, “And get some rest for yourself as well. It looks like you need it.”

Gregory sat in the parlor reviewing the events of the day and considering what options lay before him. He was inclined to agree with the physician that Jonathan would stay here under diligent watch and care, and that he needed some rest, later.

After making arrangements for food to be brought up to Jonathan for the day, Gregory made his way back to his friend bearing some books.

“The physician shared his prognosis with me, so I thought it best maybe for this evening that you rest in this room. Of course you’re free to do as you please.”

“I’ll stay.”

“I’ve brought you some books.” Gregory held out the books lamely, “Can you still read?”

Jonathan laughed, “Yes, that memory is still intact, thankfully.”

Gregory’s shoulder lifted. “That’s good. I have to ask, what brought you here? Do you know where you’ve been?”

“I don’t remember much. All I know is I woke up in a hospital a couple of days ago knowing nothing. Then this morning the name Chatsworth came to mind, and I knew I had to find it and figure out what it meant to me.”

“I can’t believe you’re here. It’s been three years.”

Jonathan’s eyes rounded in surprise.

“I shouldn’t overwhelm you with too much. Doctor’s directives.”

“Please. Tell me everything.” The plea in Jonathan’s voice overrode what weight the physician’s instructions carried, so he began to share the memories from Chatsworth,

“I believe you came here because of the memories of the four of us.”

“Four?”

“You, Mary, Margaret, and myself.”

“Mary? Margaret?”

“Margaret is my sister.” He coughed, “The…uh… one who slapped you earlier.”

Jonathan nodded slowly revealing nothing.

“Perhaps a story for another time.”

Jonathan showed no clues of remembering Margaret from earlier than today. “Yes, assuredly.”

“And Mary. Margaret’s best friend. The four of us had a camaraderie of sorts.” He chuckled, “It’s a bit odd, truthfully, given the six year age gap between us and then, but they were good sorts. We would go fishing, ride, and adventure around the estates. Especially in the summers when you and I were on break from school. Do you remember?”

Jonathan shook his head.

“Well, it may come back to you. Mayhap talking of memories will bring them back to you.”

Jonathan rubbed his head, but thinking that Gregory might misread the gesture, he prompted, “What else did we do?”

Gregory chuckled, “Well, of course there were Mary’s plays?”

“Plays?”

“Yes, she wrote plays. Writes plays.” He corrected himself.

“A woman playwright? Is that done?”

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