Page 6 of Good Duke Gone Cold

“That will do nicely.”

Margaret shook her head. “Small steps,” she muttered. “Anyways,” she turned to Mary. “When are we going to rehearse your play?”

Either Margaret didn’t notice or didn’t care to notice Mary’s wild look in her eyes begging her friend to drop the topic of conversation.

“It’s not finished,” Mary whispered to her friend.

“Yes, I know it’s not finished.” Margaret announced loudly. Ok so it was a choice not to notice then. What is her plan? “Gregory, did you know that Mary is writing another play?”

“Mhmm. How nice.” Came the noncommittal reply.

Mary’s eyes widened even more, begging as loudly as eyes can beg. Please stop.

“Yes, so far it’s quite a fetching play about–well, nevermind. You’ll find out soon enough what it’s about. In fact,” she paused dramatically.

Gregory tried not to look up from the newspaper that one of the footmen had just recently placed in front of him, but his eyebrows betrayed him.

“We are looking for another person to help us run lines.”

Before Margaret could continue, Gregory quipped, “Not a chance.”

“But it would be fun.”

“No, it would not.”

“But we need you.”

“I’m busy.”

“But there’s no one else to do it. Normally the four of us would have had such a hoot acting out a play together.”

Gregory shot her a warning look. “It has been many years since thefourof us have done anything.”

So that’s what the warning was about. Jonathan. Oh Margaret, tread lightly.

“Yes, but when it was the four of us, it was always so enjoyable. Do you not miss those days?” Gregory’s eyes warned louder, even his mouth got in on the warning beacon. Margaret flung caution to the wind. “Jonathan would have done it.”

Silence. And then, plop, screech, whoosh. The newspaper fluttered to the table. The chair scratched the floor as Gregory pushed it back, turned and left the room.

“He’ll come around.” Margaret turned to Mary. “We’ll start practicing this afternoon, right?”

“Yes.”

And just when Mary thought the summer couldn’t get any worse. It did.

Chapter 3

Gregorycouldn’tshaketheguilt. Margaret’s words rung in his ears.Jonathan would have done it.Since he couldn’t shake it, he decided to drown it.

He decided to drown the words in both noise and ale by visiting the town’s local pub. It was small, so he was hoping he wouldn’t be recognized by too many people. Of course he had no such luck. The second he entered the pub, the din of the locale dimmed to nil. He looked around and gave himself two choices: head back home to the guilt or swizzle until he was scammered.

He plastered on a smile knowing the great extent that many of these people relied on him to take care of this region.

“One round on me.” Cheers erupted. He made his way to a table in the back corner that before his adventures on the continent had been reserved for him and Jonathan.

Thinking he had achieved his goal of loud noises and strong drink, Gregory leaned forward to stare into his drink.

The buxom barmaid with crimson hair brought him another drink. His eyes drank their fill, but he couldn’t help reimagining her with cinnamon colored tresses. Before he could reflect on that fantasy, he felt an impressive whack on his shoulder.

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