Page 7 of A Duchess Mistaken
Lord Christopher glanced at his brother, then back at Agnes. “That is quite kind of you, Miss?—”
“Kind but unnecessary,” the duke cut in, his voice cold. “Christopher would have remained in bed if he did not deem himself well enough to break his fast with us.”
“Can you not see how close he looks to bringing up his food?” Agnes challenged, raising a brow at the duke. “He is positively green.”
“Rather choice words for a gentleman who has not taken a single bite of food since he sat down.”
“That alone should prove my point.”
“Or rather, it proves that I know my brother far better than you do.”
“Or so you would like us to believe, I am sure.”
The duke was not able to keep the scowl off his face at this point. For every retort Agnes gave, his frown dipped lower. And for every response he sent back, she felt her hackles rise. She did not make it a habit of arguing with people she hardly knew. While she enjoyed friendly debates, going back and forth with a man she’d just met hardly seemed fruitful. And she was defending someone she did not know either, even if that someone might be her future husband.
Yet she could not help herself. She glared at the duke and he glared right back at her, clenching his fist so tightly that it almost shook atop the table. No one spoke. She didn’t like this at all. This was not what she had planned.Hewas not what she’d planned.
She would have to stay away from him, she decided. It shouldn’t be that difficult, should it?
CHAPTER 4
Johnathan decided right after breakfast that he had to make amends with Miss Agnes. It should not matter that she was absolutely infuriating. What mattered was that they fostered a happy relationship with each other so that he did not jeopardize the impending marriage.
Lord Sutton had been very clear about this arrangement after all. This ‘vacation’, as they’d put it, was purely for Agnes to determine if she really wanted to be married to the brother of the duke.
He quelled the rise of guilt that never felt too far away whenever those thoughts assaulted him and entered the drawing room. There he found his mother engaging in a rather lifeless lesson on the history of the estate with the viscount and viscountess, who were being quite polite in their riveted expressions. Johnathan would not have blamed them if they’d worn looks of boredom instead.
Christopher was in his chambers, having dismissed himself earlier to sleep off the effects of his ‘unknown’ ailment—and of course, Miss Agnes was rather sympathetic to his plight—so that left Mr. Parsons and Miss Agnes.
Miss Agnes was by a window, just a few paces away from her brother. She did not slouch the way her brother did, did not take up space with her legs like him. It was easy to dismiss that as simply proper ladylike tendencies but Johnathan had a feeling that something else was at play. Miss Agnes had the countenance of a man who had seen the world and was not pleased with it.
How she managed to pull off such an impression while maintaining such ethereal beauty and poise was astounding. So much so that Johnathan could not help stalling in his steps towards her, admiring the slope of her neck when she tilted her head to the side to study something on the other side of the window.
“Is there something you would like to say, Your Grace?” she asked without turning around.
Johnathan’s heart skipped a beat and he cursed himself for being so jumpy. As if she sensed his agitation—which he hoped she could not—she turned slowly to look at him.
“Or perhaps it is not I you wish to speak with,” she added as an afterthought.
“You are quite astute, Miss Agnes,” he observed, coming up next to her. He instantly regretted it. She smelled glorious, a lovely mixture of floral and citrusy tones that urged him to step closer. “I have come to apologize to you.”
“Apology accepted.”
He blinked. “You have not given me a chance to say what for.”
“I did not have to. It is clear that you wish to apologize for your rudeness since our meeting.”
“Since our meeting?” he echoed, bemused. “I do not recall having done anything yesterday to apologize for.”
“What a shame, Your Grace,” she hummed and the disappointment in her voice irked him. “Then pray tell, why have you come to apologize?”
“For my behavior during breakfast of course.” He paused and then added after a moment, “And if you believe I should have reason to apologize for anything else, then I do for that as well.”
“I wonder if I should continue accepting such an apology,” she hummed in thought. “But very well. I accept. Now, shall I ask you a question?”
She said it so pointedly that Johnathan was instantly on edge. “Is it about my brother?”
“Now who is the astute one?” she asked. “Is he ill often?”
