Page 40 of Good Duke Gone Hard

“What is it then?” Jonathan demanded.

“That’s just it. You went ahead on a reconnaissance mission you likely weren’t properly trained for. How you were appointed that mission is more than half the mystery. Your direct superior officer was killed, and everyone else knows nothing or one word: mum. The word on the street is that your superior had it out for you, seems like you were engaged to the woman he loved.” Jake must have read the frustration in Jonathan’s core. “I know it ain’t what you want to hear. But it’s all you’ll ever get.”

“Go on.”

“You must have followed John Smith onto the boat, trailing him for some information. He grew wise of the fact and knocked you out. Now at this point in the story, three of the sailors can corroborate the fact that you were unconscious because they helped John Smith lug you back to your room.”

“Why would they do that?”

“More accurately, they must have caught John Smith about to dispose of you, maybe overboard. John Smith claimed you were drunk, so it’s lucky those three came upon you. Otherwise you might be… Well, anyways. They took you back to your room and notified the captain who got involved at that point. He had you monitored since you wouldn’t wake up right away. Then when you finally came to, you didn’t remember nothing. And the rest, well, at least you know that.”

Jonathan sank back into the chair. He had no words. No thoughts. No memories came pouring back. He didn’t realize he had been expecting a flood of memories until they didn’t come. Then the disappointment of their absence overtook him. He just had nothing. Nothing save a few years of memories and a few weeks of awkward…bliss.

Was it truly blissful? That he could be in the company of a woman who was considered too much while he rightfully would be judged to have too little? Sure, he was a duke. And that in and of itself would get him places, but as a person, he felt as though he didn’t have enough to offer anyone. And yet, his time with Margaret was filling. Maybe his time with her was filling the gaps, trickling in to fill places of his heart and mind he hadn’t been paying enough attention to the last few years.

Now that he had some answers, certainly not all of them as he still held out hope for more, but at least some, he should be pushing for more information. He should keep digging and not give up the pursuit. Except he had no inclination whatsoever to do that. The only thing he could think of were Margaret’s jammy little fingers from this morning, and he wanted to know if it was raspberry or strawberry jam. Then he lambasted himself for how he had left her and not explained anything.

She was going to be furious. He would have his work cut out to change that fury into a fire that burned more pleasingly.

Chapter 15

JONATHANFOCUSEDHISMINDon getting back to and making it up to Margaret. How could he have just left her like that? What kind of man would do that?

He would play neither the rake nor the rogue, only himself. If that wasn’t enough…well, of course that was his worst fear.

He made one small stop to make before saddling up for the journey back to Chatsworth.Chatsworth. Who would have known one word could lead him to such happiness. If nothing else, he thanked his mind for remembering that one word.

On the ride returning to Margaret, Jonathan played the scene over and over again in his mind.

He could find her right away and sweep her off her feet. If she was sitting in the garden, he would march right up to her, whisk her off her feet, and carry her to her room, regardless of witnesses.

He could wait until night to sneak into her room and then show her all the ways he had been dreaming of her.

He could invite her to a game of chess–no definitely not chess. He could invite her to paint with him, just to spend time with her doing what she loved.

Maybe. Maybe. Maybe. All maybes. Until he saw her, he wouldn’t know his most advantageous course of action.

By the time Jonathan rode up to the front door, he should have been weary from the trip, but he was a flurry of energy. He reached deep within himself to breathe and calm down. But his legs somehow missed all the signals and they marched into the house in search of Margaret.

Bugsby opened the door in anticipation of the hunt, and as he bowed, said, “Your Grace.”

“Where is she?” No explanation necessary.

Delivered without missing a beat, “In the drawing room, Your Grace,” Bugsby took Jonathan’s topcoat and hat. With the gift wrapped and tucked under his arm, Jonathan strode off toward the room, his heart rate two beats for every step.

He didn’t know what he had expected exactly, but he certainly hadn’t foreseen every possible guest taking tea with Margaret at the crucial moment when he needed to talk to her.

Now, he could have cleared the room. Or even taken Margaret aside. Had he known the mess he could avoid, he would have. But not being a seer, Jonathan stuck to his gut, which was telling him to wait for his opportunity with Margaret.

“Your Grace,” several voices chorused in greeting.

Jonathan nodded absently at all the houseguests still in the dwelling. He took a seat close to Margaret and instructed his hands to take a cup of tea.

“How was your trip to London?” Lyle got straight to the point.

Jonathan quirked a brow.

“It’s no secret in a house this small and a situation as large as yours. Come on. We needed something to talk about all day,” Lyle offered a sly grin at him.

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