Page 17 of Good Duke Gone Hard

“Yes, to the top.”

“It was a race?”

“It always is,” she laughed.

And his lips had to mirror hers. Their resounding laughter echoed off the crumbling walls. He couldn’t remember the last time he felt so weightless, as if he was one of those ridiculously dangerous new hot air balloons from the continent.

“Has it always been?” He smiled at Margaret.

Chin tucked demurely, she answered sotto voce, “It has always been.”

It was a calm quiet as the two rode around the estates and then headed back to the stables late that afternoon. Upon reaching the house, Margaret had offered to ring for some footmen to bring them a light repast in the garden.

The footmen had brought a blanket, basket, and several pillows.

“That was a perfect ride. Thank you for taking me to the folly.”

Her smile produced a glow in his heart.

“It was nothing. I was hoping it might trigger a memory.” Her eyes turned downcast as she continued, “But unfortunately it didn’t help.”

“It all helps.” She looked up at him with rounding eyes encouraging him to speak. “Just being here has helped…I think.” He chuckled. “It certainly hasn’t hurt.”

She looked down again and began to pour him a cup of tea.

“Cream and sugar–” he began to ask, but his voice caught as she interrupted him with two simple words that were really not so simple at all.

“I know.”

The silence hung in the air as she presented the cup and saucer to him. It was so intimate. Just like the jacket he had instinctively adorned her with. He drew his brows together, wordlessly asking Margaret to share more.

She popped up to her feet. “Now I must change out of this uncomfortable riding habit. I bid you farewell.”

And just like that, all of his innocent thinking flew through the gardens and he envisioned himself in her bedchamber helping her in her task. He would start by dragging the silk stockings down her thighs and would press soft kisses to each inch of skin as it was revealed…

Today he had been the gentleman again. He couldn’t bring himself to make any untoward advances. Perhaps tomorrow the rake might have more luck extracting secrets.

Chapter 7

JONATHANSTOODUNDERNEATHTHEsoftly swaying leaves of the giant oak tree with his hand on the rough bark. “You want us to do what?”

“Climb it.” Margaret smiled coyly in her dusty rose spencer and cream frock. The sun could not outshine her golden tresses, and those plush lips entreated him to kiss her. “We used to always climb trees together. Surely you haven’t forgotten how to do it.” That small smile hit him right in the middle of his chest. It was the glimmering light of life that so easily slipped from her lips that caught him unexpectedly and yet always welcomingly.

Jonathan eyed Margaret suspiciously. “And who would climb the fastest?”

“By now, you must know I won’t give away those secrets.” Her smile widened to encompass the skies and the sun’s rays calling to his balloon-shaped heart to drift into her.

“The highest, then?” He teased, with a most charming half smile.

Her laughter trickled out of her and launched his heart into the air. “You silly man.” She made a movement to swat at his forearm.

Using his quick reflexes, he pulled his arm back and clasped her hand within his own. Today he would be the rake.

MARGARET NOTICED SOMETHING WAS different about Jonathan today. Even when she had first seen him, she could tell that something had changed. Not his hairstyle, not his clothing, just something in his demeanor. His sharp jaw still accommodated a late day stubble, and his deep set eyes drank of life. There was an energy encompassing him that was drawing her in. She couldn’t help swatting at him when he teased her for memories of climbing trees. Instincts had taken over.

But she couldn’t let impulse win. She had to retain full control of herself to ensure she didn’t leak the wrong memories to him.

His clasping hand was scorching, and not just where his skin was flush against hers. It was time to leave the danger of being on the ground next to this inferno and climb a tree.

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