Chapter 15

CHAPTER 15

J ohnathan hardly slept during the night. And because his guilt had been assuaged, he could not blame it on anything but the exhilarating, risky, comfortable chat he'd had with Miss Agnes in the hallway. It was all he could think about as he got into bed, all he could think about before sleep claimed him, and the first thing on his mind when he woke up.

"Good morning, everyone," he greeted as he swept into the drawing room where everyone was already having breakfast. Including Miss Agnes, whom he instantly realized was sitting by one of the bay windows with Miss Caroline, sipping her tea. Their eyes met from across the room.

Johnathan saw his chance and he took it. He made his way over to the ladies, aware that the married couples in the room were surreptitiously watching.

"Good morning, ladies," he greeted, sinking into the chair across from them both. "I trust you both slept well?"

"Indeed, Your Grace," Miss Caroline responded with a kind and proper smile. Johnathan flashed a polite smile at her. Unable to hold back any longer, he looked at Miss Agnes.

She was always the very picture of grace, poise, and beauty. When she met his gaze over the rim of her teacup, Johnathan felt a shiver race through his body, flushed and cold all at once.

"A marvelous idea, Your Grace," Miss Agnes said. "I have not played that game in quite some time. Shall we involve my parents and Lord and Lady Reeds as well?"

"If they wish to participate, then I do not see why they cannot. Shall we choose our partners now?"

"Antsy, aren't you, Your Grace," Miss Agnes asked lightly, a tease in her tone.

"Excited is a more appropriate description. I do enjoy besting my brother at the game and I have a feeling I will enjoy besting you as well."

"Oh? Presumptuous of you to assume that you stand a chance at besting me at all, Your Grace."

"You underestimate my prowess at the game, Miss Agnes."

"As much as you underestimate mine, I'm sure."

Johnathan grinned at her. He realized a moment later that Miss Caroline was watching the both of them with wide eyes. Miss Agnes must have noticed as well because she quickly said, "Is that not right, Caroline? I am quite good at the game, aren't I?"

"Oh, yes," Caroline responded with a nod. "But you are good at almost everything you put your mind to, Agnes. You are quite talented."

"You flatter me, Caroline," Agnes said with a wave of her hand. "And such compliments should be reserved for you."

Caroline shook her head. "Not at all. You are intelligent, athletic, and you possess a boldness I had always envy. You always go after the things you want, no matter what stands in your way. I wish I could do the same."

Johnathan didn't miss the note of sadness in Miss Caroline's voice. She lowered her gaze to her teacup, as if she needed a moment to gather herself, before she visibly brightened.

"But yes," she said. "It should be fun."

Johnathan looked to the left of him where Christopher and Mr. Parsons sat talking with each other as if they were the best of friends. He couldn't help but wonder if his brother possessed the same sad longing he sensed in Miss Caroline. If that were the case, how could he have missed it? Had he been so caught up in helping his family out of their crisis that he hadn't stopped to pay his brother any mind?

Shame washed over him. He'd let his mother's mind slip away after his father's death. He couldn't stand back and let the same thing happen to his brother because he was too focused on other matters to help him.

"I shall tell the others then," he informed the ladies before standing and making his way over to where Mr. Parsons and Christopher were sitting.

"Pall mall," he said, sinking in the armchair next to them. "In the afternoon. Christopher, you shall be paired with Miss Caroline and I shall be paired with Miss Agnes."

Christopher's frown was deep and swift. "Why? Would it not make more sense for me to be paired with Miss Agnes?"

"Mind your words, Christopher," Mr. Parsons drawled in that constantly bored tone of voice Johnathan had grown accustomed to hearing from him. "You are quite lucky not to be on the same side as my sister. She is rather competitive and will not hesitate to take out her frustrations on her own teammates."

"I'm sure she is not as bad as you say," Johnathan said without thinking. "And to answer your question, Christopher, I think it would be quite nice to play against our betrotheds. That would be a far better way of getting to know them than any other manner, I believe."

Christopher still did not look convinced. "It is quite uneven if you include Paul."

"Yes, where shall I go?" Mr. Parsons interjected again. "Perhaps I should join your team, Chris."

"I shall ask the others if they wish to join then," Johnathan conceded.

"And if they do, then it will still be uneven. Perhaps we should…"

He trailed off, not bothering to finish the suggestion. Johnathan already knew where he was going with it.

"I shall ask her," Johnathan responded, knowing that he was about to embark on a fruitless mission. His mother hardly cared to have breakfast with them and their guests. Why would she do something as sociable as playing pall mall?

But he supposed it wouldn't hurt to ask. It had been one of her favorite games once upon a time.

Johnathan got to his feet, heading to the married couples who sat near the hearth. Lord and Lady Reeds immediately declined the invitation to play with them but Lord and Lady Sutton happily accepted, which meant he was still left with no choice but to ask his mother if she would like to join.

Dread coiled in the pit of his stomach as he made his way out of the drawing room and up to the dowager duchess' chambers. With every step he took to her room, he felt like a hand was reaching around his hear. He knew that a single interaction with her would have that had squeezing with no remorse, leaving him raw and bleeding.

Hope was what propelled him forward. Johnathan came to a stop at her chambers, raising his hand to knock. Before he could, the door opened and his mother's maid gasped at the sight of him.

"Forgive me, Your Grace," she said quickly. "Her Grace is within."

"Thank you."

The maid hurried away, bearing a tray under her arm. Johnathan slipped into the quiet room. He instantly spotted his mother sitting on the terrace, untouched food in front of her.

"Good morning, Mother," he greeted, coming forward.

She didn't respond. She only stared ahead of her. At least she was dressed, he thought glumly.

Johnathan came closer. "I have come to ask you something that you may deem a bit odd."

Again, there was no response. Johnathan didn't know why he bothered pausing.

"Would you like to play pall mall with our guests?"

Silence.

Johnathan nodded. It was what he'd expected and he was happy that he'd asked, but he couldn't escape the sharp stab of disappointment lancing him at her quiet rejection.

"Very well. I shall inform the others that you are feeling unwell."

He turned away, tucking away the familiar tug of sadness he always felt after interacting with his mother.

"I shall play."

He thought he might have imagined the words at first. Johnathan paused, heart thudding in his chest. He turned to look back at his mother but she was still sitting as still as stone.

"Very well," he breathed. "I shall inform the others then. They…they will be happy to see you."

She didn't say anything to that, but Johnathan didn't mind half as much. His mother had agreed. That was a feat in and of itself.

Agnes couldn't believe she was doing this again. She looked twice down the hallway before she knocked and waited for the duke's response.

"Come," came his voice on the other end of the door.

Agnes steeled her nerves, slipping inside his study. It was very much the same as the last time she'd snuck here. Despite that, she looked around the room as if it were the first time seeing everything, not yet ready to face the gentleman sitting behind the desk.

"Miss Agnes." He sounded genuinely surprised. She couldn't blame him. She was surprised at herself for coming here at all. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

Agnes finally turned to face him, hoping that she looked as normal as she was trying to be. "It is almost time for our game, Your Grace. I came to fetch you."

She couldn't take her eyes off him. He reached for the pair of spectacles perched on the bridge of his nose and lowered it to the desk as he squinted at the clock across the room. She watched as his brows shot to his hairline in surprise then those sky-colored eyes turned to her.

"Forgive me," he said hastily, running his hand over his face. "I was so lost in my work that I did not even realize how much time had passed."

Agnes nodded. She knew that it would be best for her to leave, not wanting to risk them getting caught alone together, but she went against her better judgment and approached the desk instead.

"What are you working on?" she asked him.

The duke seemed surprised by the question. "I doubt it is anything you will find interest in."

Agnes raised a brow at that and he chuckled.

"Well, perhaps it might. God knows it would not be the only thing that surprises me about you."

Agnes couldn't help smiling at that. She came closer still, close enough for him to tilt his head up in order to maintain eye contact. There was something about the way he looked at her, as if wholly interested in whatever she planned on saying next, that made her heart flip in her chest.

"As a child, I had always been interested in numbers," she said. "And my father thought to foster my interest by teaching me everything he knew about running a business. That came with managing ledgers quite like the ones on your desk right now."

"Quite an unusual interest of a lady of your stature," the duke commented, his eyes glittering. "Do you not wonder what society might think?"

"I do not. Do you?"

The direct response and question seemed to take him off guard. Then he chuckled. "I do what is expected of a man in my position."

"A man in your position as what?" she questioned. "As duke? As a brother? As a son? Do all those positions work in tandem or will there come a time where those roles oppose each other?"

The duke tilted his head to the side as he regarded her. Agnes felt an embarrassing flush of heat touch her cheeks. She couldn't help looking away.

"Forgive me," she murmured. "Philosophy is another interest of mine. I have a terrible habit of reading deeper into situations that do not need it."

"Terrible is not how I would describe it," the duke said amicably. "But I cannot say that I have the response to that question just yet."

He stood, rounding the desk to stand in front of her. They were suddenly so close that she didn't know what to do. Her mind told her to take a step back, to put distance between them. Or rather walk out of the room altogether. But her feet remained rooted to the spot.

"I have good news," the duke told her with a soft smile touching his lips.

His eyes shone with something she'd never seen in them before. Genuine happiness.

"What is it, Your Grace?"

"Mother has agreed to play with us this afternoon."

Agnes felt an answering smile tug at her lips. She still didn't quite understand the depth of the dowager duchess' situation but the duke's happiness was infectious.

"Is she feeling better then?" she asked.

"Only time will tell. But this is a step in the right direction. And I have you to thank."

"Me? What have I done?"

"Our talk last night gave me some perspective. I am a bit ashamed to admit but I had almost given up on her. Had I not spoken with you, I would not have even asked her anything in the first place. So, thank you."

Agnes reached out to take his hand without thinking. "I am only happy that things appear to be looking up for you."

He squeezed her fingers. Heat raced through her body the moment she realized what she was doing. But she didn't pull away. And as the duke's smile slowly slipped, his joy fading into an emotion she could not name, Agnes realized that she'd taken a step over the line she had been skirting for these past few days.

Something shifted between them. It had been shifting for some time, she knew. At least on her end. She studied his eyes, wanting to understand what that look meant, wanting to know why he did not release her hand now that the moment had long since passed. Was it because…

Before she could draw a conclusion, the duke released her hand and took a step back.

"I shall go to fetch her and make my way to the gardens," he said, not looking at her.

Agnes was struck dumb. She couldn't do anything but stand there and watch as he left her alone in the room. Slowly, she released a long, low breath, hoping it would calm her racing heart and her flushed cheeks.

All it did was solidify the realization that she was smitten with the duke.