Page 54 of A Duchess Mistaken
Madame Hendrix looked over Agnes' shoulder. Agnes stiffened. Slowly, the soothsayer’s eyes drifted back to Agnes and suddenly, she realized that she knew. How this stranger knew was a mystery to her, but it was clear in those deep, dark eyes. It was clear in the way she’d looked at Johnathan over Agnes’ shoulder. It was clear in the things she was saying while saying nothing much at all.
God, she couldn’t believe she was beginning to consider the words of a self-proclaimed seer.
“Speak to each other,” Madame Hendrix said. “And the truth will be revealed.”
“That’s enough.” Agnes shot out of the chair. She was frazzled but she didn’t dare to show it. “Someone else may go ahead.”
Despite how unusual she felt, she went straight to the side of the man who partially caused it. Could he tell? She was afraid to look at him, afraid he might read into Madame Hendrix’s words and realize the truth of how Agnes felt about him. A truth that she hadn’t even been able to come to terms with herself.
Pain and sadness awaited her, huh? Agnes thought of the duke’s smile and couldn’t imagine a world where such a smile could ever cause her any amount of pain.
CHAPTER 20
The morning was progressing rather nicely. So nicely in fact that Johnathan had almost forgotten what he had resolved to do just this morning, which was to ensure that Christopher and Miss Caroline spent as much time together as was possible.
Although, it appeared his interference would not be needed. Christopher was in a grand mood, pulling their small party along to every shop that caught his fancy. And Miss Caroline seemed to be in the best spirits he’d ever witnessed since meeting her. Her smile was bright and full of wild abandon, and she displayed a playful side of her that Johnathan never knew existed. Between her, Paul, and Christopher, they were like three children let loose in a confectionary shop.
Much to Johnathan’s pleasure, Lord and Lady Reeds did not bother him again about the wedding as the morning wore on into the afternoon. As a matter of fact, they were quite scarce. They seemed engrossed in their own devices, trailing far behindthe rest which included the happily married couple that strolled along as if they were still courting.
Which left Johnathan mostly in the company of Agnes. An uncommonly quiet Agnes.
“Is something bothering you?” he asked at last. They were making their way through the market, forgoing the produce vendors for those that sold accessories.
Agnes looked up from the array of ribbons she had been staring at, her mind clearly elsewhere. “Hm? Oh, no I am fine.”
“You do not seem fine,” Jonathan pointed out. “As a matter of fact, you have been rather quiet ever since we left the soothsayer’s shop. Don’t tell me you are still thinking about what she said? I thought you did not pay such things any mind.”
Agnes scoffed, rolling her eyes at his prodding. “Bold of you to assume what is going through my mind, John. Surely you do not think I am so easy to read?”
“You are far easier than you believe you are, Agnes,” he contested, purely to get her a little riled up. Anything to pull her out of her own mind. “And after spending so much time in your company, I do think I know you quite well.”
“You do, do you?” Agnes’ eyes flashed with a challenge and Johnathan steeled himself for what she was going to say next. “What are my interests then?”
“An easy challenge. You enjoy reading. Philosophical and scientific books to be specific. Since you are very technical minded, you do not pay much attention to creative hobbies though you do ensure your skill in the pianoforte surpasses what is deemed expected of a lady of your stature.”
“Hm. Surprisingly, you are correct. Though I do suppose it is expected that you would know such insignificant aspects of my personality.”
“I do not find them insignificant,” Johnathan said. He stuck his hands in his pockets as a way of fighting the urge to tuck that strand of hair away from her face. It tickled the side of her cheek and she wiggled her nose in response.
“A kind sentiment then, John, but it is standard to know such things.”
“Is it standard to know that you much prefer chicken to fish, seeing that you clean your plate every time there is a chicken meal but pick at your fish and pause between bites as if you are reminding yourself that it is good for you? Or is it standard to notice the manner in which you approach every conversation as if you always hold on to the hope that there is something new you may glean from what is being said, even if it is a topic as banal as the weather? You do like flowers well enough but in the manner of a horticulturist rather than a lady who simply admires its color and smell. And you always pause to study every infrastructure you come upon, your eyes picking apart every detail of its architecture as if you wish to figure out what sets it apart from the rest. I can always tell when you draw yourconclusion from the small smile you wear. When I think of your peculiarities, for lack of a better word, in such a manner, I do not think it standard.”
His lengthy response clearly surprised her. Agnes frowned a little, turning back to the ribbons she had been studying. As if she noticed that the vendor was watching them, she quickly picked up a few pink ones, passed over the coins, and walked away.
“Am I wrong?” Johnathan asked at last, impatient.
“No, you are not wrong. I am simply taken aback at how correct you were. In such detail too.”
“As I said, I know you quite well. I pay keen attention to you.”
“Why?”
He hadn’t realized what he’d said until she asked the question. She even turned to look at him, piercing him with that beautiful gaze of hers and making his throat clog up in the process.
Johnathan couldn't meet her eyes. So he looked around the markets, eyes falling on Christopher who was busy showing Miss Caroline a vendor who sold live fish.
It should have pleased him to see his brother and his brother’s love having such a wonderful time together. But all Johnathan could think about was Agnes and the way she looked at him,as if she could not quite understand him and was desperate to know more. It felt like her eyes were stripping him raw, peeling back the layers he had spent so much time building on top of the other. Eventually, he feared she would meet the center and find out that he was nothing but a pained, aching gentleman wearing the mask of a duke and pretending he had everything together.
