Page 56 of A Duchess Mistaken
Johnathan looked at her as if he couldn’t believe she would ask. “Of course I did. I am not a monster.”
Agnes fought her smile. “Many dukes would not do the same. I do not think anyone would deem you a monster because of it. A little heartless, perhaps, but that is necessary at times.”
“Are you saying you think I should have rejected their plea?”
“No, I’m saying you are a kind and generous man. I’m sure you are well-liked by these people.”
“It is not enough for me to be liked. I should be doing more.”
“More? My, I did assume you to be addicted to your work but it is quite admirable to see it in action. I’m sure your father would have been proud.”
Johnathan made an odd sound in the back of his throat. “My father is the reason I am forced to try so hard.”
Agnes looked up at him, noticing the darkness in his tone. It shone on his face too, his jaw ticking as if he was grinding his teeth. She’d never witnessed such hardness in his gaze before. A part of her felt a little trepidant asking her next question and it was only her never ending thirst to know more that drove it from her lips.
“Was he a hard man?” she asked gently.
“Hard?” Johnathan repeated, all but spitting the word out. “No, he was not hard. Not to me, at least, nor to my brother. While my father was alive, we knew nothing but his love and guidance. Following his death, however, we realized the dark secrets he had been keeping from us.”
“Dark secrets?” she probed, her voice hardly above a whisper.
Johnathan was somewhere else entirely. Though he continued along with ease, his eyes stared out as if witnessing something from the past, flashes of pain and anger darkening those blue pools.
“I’ve spent years trying to rebuild the reputation between the people and the dukedom, having not realized the damage my father had done to it. He left a terrible legacy behind, one that I am forced to repair so that I do not pass it along to my heir.”
She wanted to take his hand. She wanted to pull him close and hold his head to her chest so that she could stroke the back of it and tell him that everything would be fine. Agnes could not take her eyes off him, wanting to throw herself between him and thepainful memories she could see were assaulting him that very moment.
“How did he die?” she whispered instead, afraid that she might be overstepping but unable to stop herself anyway.
Johnathan paused in his tracks. Slowly, he turned tortured eyes to her. “I believe he shot himself.”
Agnes gasped, hand flying to her mouth. She couldn’t help it.
A wry smile touched Johnathan’s lips before falling away. “I wish it were not true. It is not what I wish to remember about the man I had once looked up to. But when the constables observed the scene and interviewed the servants, they learned that no one had snuck in and done the deed. My father, he…” Johnathan trailed off, shaking his head. “These are not proper words to be heard by a delicate lady.”
“It is a good thing I am not delicate then.” She couldn’t resist a moment longer. Agnes touched his arm. She hoped in the smile he could feel how sorry she felt.
She could almost see the tension seep out of his shoulders at the touch.
“It is in the past now,” he said, the darkness clearing from his eyes. “And far be it from me to ruin this wonderful afternoon with such somber memories. Especially since it seems our goal is almost within reach.”
He jerked his chin at something behind her. Agnes turned to see Christopher and Caroline standing with each other at a florist, seemingly having a conversation over bouquets of tulips.
Agnes smiled. It was always satisfying seeing her plans come to fruition, but she found it hard focusing on it when every fiber of being was honed in on the gentleman standing next to her.
She turned back to look at him. She studied the slope of his jaw, the curvature of his eyes, the slight slant of his lips. Agnes admired the way his eyes lit with pleasure, how easily she could read his emotions when he let his guard down. She didn’t know when it happened. All she knew was that she was staring at a completely different gentleman from the aloof duke she’d met when she’d first arrived. The shields he’d put up had shattered and she could see who he truly was.
And she loved him for it.
The startling fact left her speechless, unable to do anything but simply look at him. How could she love a man she claimed she hardly knew just minutes ago?
But it was the same man who had recited things about her that only those closest to her could have possibly known. A man who had put aside his own quest for marriage without a moment’s hesitation if it meant his brother would be happy. A man who was not intimidated by her but could make her feel both cherished and seen without having to do anything but share a conversation.
Agnes couldn’t believe she hadn’t realized this sooner.
“Everyone, come!” Paul called out suddenly, drawing all their attention. All except Agnes’ who was slow to turn, still so shaken by her revelation that she could hardly focus on anything else.
“I found a pub where we can have our luncheon,” Paul went on excitedly, waving an arm. He clearly had no plans on waiting to show them the way, already hurrying back the way he came.
