Page 22 of His Wicked Secret
His brother’s bark of laughter grated on his ears. What was so amusing about his misfortune?
“Not want to marry? Surely you jest. The little chit has talked of nothing else since she turned sixteen.” He started to speak in a high-pitched voice. “‘Oh, Cedric, be sure not to scare off my beaus. I so want to be married!’ Not that he ever listened, mind you.”
Jonathan smiled begrudgingly. He remembered all too well the beautiful young woman who’d set her cap for him last year. “Well, she’s changed.”
“I doubt that.” Godric chortled and joined his brother at the window. “That woman has had eyes for you since the moment she met you. That sort of desire doesn’t change, not so fast as you might think. She must have a bee in her bonnet. Lord knows what, but don’t let that chase you off. She wants you, you want her. Remind her of that.”
Jonathan hadn’t forgotten how he’d spent a restless night in bed with her, holding her in his arms. It had been too perfect, a sign from above that she would fit perfectly in his bed and in his life. But he’d been unable to touch her or try to coax the passions that he hoped lay within her. He’d made a vow, after all. Having her leave that morning had been both a relief and a disappointment. Had he returned to bed and she was still there, he wasn’t sure he could have kept his word. She was too great a temptation. But he’d found her note, reminding him that they would start their lessons soon.
Had he really thought it a good idea to teach her to fight? He could hurt her if he wasn’t careful, and that was the last thing he wanted to do.
I’ve made a bloody mess of all of this. Teaching a woman to defend herself isn’t romantic. It won’t help woo her. I should have thought of something more clever.
“Jon, all is not lost. You can still win her.”
Jonathan was afraid to explain to his brother his true fear, that he wasn’t good enough for Audrey. That even if they shared a passion together, his humble beginnings would always loom over his head. He’d been at more than one ball where men and women had snickered that he’d gone from polishing fine boots to wearing them, without knowing he could hear them. He didn’t want Audrey to be the laughingstock of London because of his past. Even if he was the legitimate son of a duke, it didn’t mean that society saw him that way.
Godric placed a hand on Jonathan’s shoulder. “You cannot give up. Take my advice as a man who once refused to trust in love. I almost lost Emily because of it. If you cannot do without Audrey, then you have to fight to the ends of the earth for her, even if it means fighting the doubts within your own heart.”
Jonathan’s throat tightened. He opened his mouth to speak, but his butler stepped into the drawing room.
“Beg your pardon, sir, but Lord Pembroke wishes to see you.”
Jonathan cleared his throat. “Show him in.”
“Don’t give up, brother.” Godric gave Jonathan another pat on the shoulder before they turned around to see James Fordyce enter.
Godric shook James’s hand. “Pembroke, how the devil are you?”
“I’m well, Your Grace, and you?” James turned a smile toward Godric, then turned pale at the sight of Jonathan.
Not a surprise. I must look terrible.He had a dreadful black eye, and it still visibly pained him to move. Godric nudged his brother in the arm, careful not to hurt his ribs. Jonathan had told him everything, of course. After his brother had stopped laughing, he’d been quick to tell him what a fool he’d been for not summoning the League for help.
“Good, good,” said Godric. “Offering my brother a bit of advice on women. He’s still a young pup.”
“Not so young,” Jonathan snorted.
“Yes, well, you’re young enough to know not to just take what you want.”
“Indeed. Some ladies object to being carried off,” Jonathan chided. “Your wife most certainly did.”
“Yes, wives object at first. But that’s how you make them wives, when they’re objecting.”
Jonathan and James shared a look. “How’s that for circular logic, eh?”
Godric shrugged. “It worked for me, and it will work for you. Trust me, I know that little sprite too well. She won’t sit around waiting for a proposal. You can ask for forgiveness later.”
“You don’t know her as I do. I won’t live long enough to seek forgiveness if I cross her.” He sighed and shook his head.
Godric cleared his throat and grinned. “Well, I understand you two had an interesting night.”
“Yes, we did. But it is not my place to say more about it.” James’s discretion was a credit to his character. Although he and Jonathan were newly acquainted, Jonathan liked the man immensely. And after last night he was glad to count him as a friend.
Although Jonathan had been brought into his brother’s circle of friends, he still felt like an outsider at times. It was understandable, though. What Godric and the others had gone through at university had forged a bond between them no man could break, except perhaps for Hugo Waverly. That man was out for blood, and Jonathan knew with dreadful certainty that the past and his brother’s secrets—the League’s secrets—would someday catch up with all of them.
Godric smiled at James. “As much as I’d like to stay, I best be getting back to my wife. She’s most insistent we discuss nursery plans.”
James’s open joy was evident, as was his amusement. “You are expecting?”
