Page 37 of Good Duke Gone Hard

“Apparently there are no buts. Your mother has arranged the day.”

Margaret harrumphed in a most unladylike fashion. “I can’t believe–”

“Take it up with her.”

“I’ve been competing just as much as–”

Jonathan waved to the canopy.

The dowager duchess was about fifty paces away but somehow saw the motion and acknowledged the wave with one of her own.

If Margaret hadn’t been in possession of more self-control, she would have surely been mumbling to herself about how ridiculous this all was. In fact, she wasn’t sure she hadn’t been grumbling aloud, since Reggie was giving her quite an odd look.

A few footmen directed the guests to watch the race while the riders prepared themselves. Despite not being on the horse, Margaret could feel the pounding in her chest. She wanted to win. Not just for the sake of winning, though that would be a reward in and of itself. She wanted to prove herself. It all sounded silly in her head now. What was she trying to prove? And to whom?

Then there was a loud crack and the horses were thundering down the field. Margaret could feel a bead of sweat forming on her brow, and she whisked it away.

Aloud, she began cheering for the Colonel. “Come on! You can do it, Colonel!” But the second the words were out of her mouth, she realized that for her lips to form the Colonel’s title was the most difficult task of the tournament so far.

She cheered again anyway. And then mid-shout she realized that although her voice saidColonel, her heart was rooting for Jonathan.

Margaret focused her attention back on the race. Jonathan was two strides behind the Colonel.Come on, Jonathan. Just three more… You’re almost there.

And then he was. She watched his powerful legs command the horse to do the impossible. Fly. Jonathan and his mount gained on the Colonel and overtook him by a few extra paces.

Margaret’s heart was singing. She almost felt teary eyed as she watched the riders dismount. There was no reason for it. Jonathan was a strong, complete person. He didn’t need this win for anything. Yet, when Margaret found his eyes, she blinked back a tear.

Bella eyed her curiously.

“The wind,” Margaret explained as the trees stood preternaturally still.

JONATHAN TRIED TO DISCREETLY meet Margaret’s eyes as he was receiving slaps on the back for his win. It wasn’t an important win. There was no significance for it. Yet, Jonathan felt in his core that somehow he needed it.

He glanced over at Margaret and saw her wipe at her eyes. He needed to find time alone with her. Scratch that. He needed to make time alone with her. They hadn’t seen each other privately since the tryst in the garden, which was hardly long enough to be called a tryst.

“Congratulations to us,” Bella said to Jonathan. “I believe Her Grace as a small token to bestow on us as a gift.”

“What a fine end to the tournament.” Jonathan grinned. “And you played an excellent part in our win by the way. So yes, congratulations to us.”

Bella smiled and then turned to grab Agatha’s arm to walk together back to the canopy.

Margaret was being waylaid by the Colonel. Was he milking his loss? Maybe Jonathan should have lost on purpose? What the devil was he thinking? There was no rational explanation for someone to lose on purpose.

“Colonel,” Lyle shouted. “I didn’t get a chance to ask. Tell me what it takes to become a good marksman.”

“You’ll never believe me if I told you.”

“What’s that?”

“Shooting.”

The two barked a laugh as they headed toward the house.

Jonathan and Margaret had now serendipitously become the stragglers.

“Quite the ride, wasn’t it?”

“It wouldn’t have been, if it was me you were racing against.”

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