Page 47 of Good Duke Gone Hard

“This was a choice. My choice–” she put her finger up to his lips to stop him from interrupting her. “Whatever you may think, I was of perfectly sound mind to choose this…course of action. And I can deal with the consequences.”

“But–”

“But what? No one even knows that this has happened. Speaking of such,” she pulled the covers away from him, wrapped herself in them, and gently pushed him away. “You really do need to go.” And for emphasis, “Now.”

He stood to his full height and pushed out his chest. “Maggie, we’re getting married.”

“Johnny,” the patronizing word dripped out of her mouth.

Jonathan was yanking on his breeches. He glared at her. “If you think anything short of us getting married is an option, you’re sadly mistaken young lady.”

Young lady?!Margaret’s pulse soared.

Jonathan continued unaware, “This isn’t a discussion.”

Margaret was seething now. Through clenched teeth, she pushed out the words, “No. This isn’t. Now leave.” Margaret’s glare was shooting round lead balls, otherwise known as bullets, straight at a very specific target, Jonathan’s heart.

Being a moving target, Jonathan deflected the bullets by twisting about and shoving his arms into his sleeves. Then he haphazardly threw on his coat. “I’ll be in my room when you come to your senses.”

“I’ll be here when you find where you lost yours.”

Jonathan rubbed his hands up his face. “Maggie…” he began. She could see his clenched fists as his side, and the tightening of his neck muscles and jaw. Then he turned and left.

The second the door clicked, Margaret was on a heap on her bed. Why did she have to be so impulsive? Why couldn’t she exert even a smidgen more self-control? And why the devil had Jonathan not said he loved her? Surely he did. Didn’t he?

JONATHAN WANTED TO RAGE. Loudly. He wanted to slam the door and curse aloud. Instead he quietly pulled the door closed so as not to draw any attention to her room. And the cursing? Well, the invectives stormed loudly, but all inside Jonathan’s mind.

Hell and damnation. What the blazes was the chit trying to do? Ruin herself and reap scandal upon her whole family? Did she have any concept what kind of gossip this would cause if somebody found out? And why the hell didn’t she want to marry him?

His memory was back now. He was whole. He had everything to offer her from before and then some.

Jonathan’s head ached.

He didn’t care how, but he was going to make Margaret marry him.

But,Ow!His head was actually throbbing. He put a hand to the side of his head to ease the pain. Then he slumped against the wall and the last thought he had before everything went black was,Maggie!

MARGARET WAS FUMING. WHAT the hell was wrong with Jonathan? Now that all of his memories had returned, didn’t he realize that they needed to talk and sort through everything that had happened before he went missing. He had left her for another woman…practically. Or for the army, at least. It hardly mattered why he left, he left. And then he hadn’t returned for three years. Then out of the blue he knocks on Chatsworth’s doors claiming he only remembers the name of the house.

She was such a fool to think she could show him around and not get mixed up in it all. But she had a responsibility to share with him what she knew. At least, all that she knew minus the memories that might upset him. Doctor’s orders. Oh if only Gregory and Mary, or even one of the others had been here, it would have eased her burden.

It was a burden she carried well. Well, well enough.

Then Jonathan kept having those weird visions about the pond. Their first…experience together. Chills ran up her spine just thinking about it. She had tried not to walk him down that part of memory lane, so as not to disturb him by its painful ending.

Despite the difficulties it brought, she was glad he was back, if only for the sole purpose of introducing her to the effects painting can have on the mind. Yes, that knowledge would serve her well and carry her along in the hope it could bring to so many others.

But for him to think he could just assume she wanted to marry him… of all the ignorant, high-handed–

“Maggie!”

Was that Jonathan? Margaret threw on her chemise and ran out to the hallway. There, in a heap propped up against the wall was Jonathan. Panic seared her heart. She ran over to him, knees trembling.

“Johnny?”

She patted his cheeks, “Johnny! Wake up!” She was on her knees cradling his head in her lap. “Johnny, no. Wake up. You can’t do this to me again.” Her tears flooded down her face and mingled into his hair. As she brushed back the locks from his forehead, she soon felt someone gently tugging on her shoulders.

But everything was bleary, and blurry, and blunted. Nothing made any sense. She couldn’t see or hear anything. Who was holding her? Why was someone taking Jonathan away? She yanked to be free from the grasp around her shoulders. Then she clawed at the arms tightening around her waist.

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