Chapter 20

CHAPTER 20

T he 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 behind the 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 your conclusion 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.

"I cannot help it," he answered her at last. "You are not an easy lady to ignore."

"Should I take that as a compliment?"

"I do not mean it as an insult," he assured her.

She didn't look away from him. In fact, she shifted, stepping directly in his line of sight, which forced him to look down at her.

Agnes wore a small frown, looking absolutely frustrated. It wasn't the expression he'd expected to see.

"Have I upset you?" he asked, afraid that he might have said the wrong thing again.

"No, not at all," she said with a shake of her head, still frowning at him. Johnathan fought the urge to gaze down at the slight pout of her lips, willing away the tremor of heat that coursed through him. "It is only that I now realize that I know very little about you."

"There is nothing to know about me," he said but she was already shaking her head.

"I shan't accept that as an answer. You speak about me as if we have known each other for years and yet I cannot even tell you what your favorite color is. I would not be surprised if you knew mine."

"I surmise it may be either purple or pink."

"Oh, good heavens, this is what I mean!" she exclaimed, her cheeks coloring in frustration. "Oh, I am so ashamed of myself."

"Ashamed?" Johnathan frowned at her in alarm. "You have no reason to be! It is I who should not have said so much."

"But you have and I am unable to forget it." She thinned her lips. "I have been so focused on Caroline and Christopher that I…" She trailed off, then caught his arm suddenly, sending his heart racing through his chest. "Tell me who you are, Johnathan. Let us start with your favorite color."

Despite the chaos her touch was causing on his insides, Johnathan laughed. "I do not have a favorite color."

She scowled. "Everyone has a favorite color."

"I do not. Is that odd?"

"I suppose it is not," she conceded after a moment. She removed her hand and he suddenly felt cold without her touch. "Tell me what you like to do then, when you are not holed up in your office at the crack of dawn."

Johnathan raised his brows. "How do you know the time I go to my office?"

She blinked as if just realizing what she'd said. Then her cheeks turned an adorable shade of pink. "You are not the only observant one, you know."

A grin tugged at his lips. He had every intention of teasing her about that, mostly because he wanted to avoid having to talk about himself, but then someone called out to him.

They both paused, looking to the left to see a portly man standing at the door of a shop. The man lowered his head in reverence before meeting Johnathan's eyes. "Forgive me for interrupting, Your Grace. My wife and I were hoping to speak with you for a moment."

Johnathan recognized the man, though he could not quickly recall his name. He was the village metalsmith who had been seeking a meeting with Johnathan for some time now. Had it not been for his guests, Johnathan would have already gone to see him.

The look on the man's face told him that it would not be easy turning him down. So Johnathan nodded at him, then turned to Agnes. He placed a hand on the small of her back, murmuring, "Pardon me a moment."

She sucked in a breath, her eyes growing wide before nodding. He didn't get the chance to question her on her reaction. He simply headed into the shop and prayed that whatever conversation he was about to have would not be a difficult one.

With his father's debts and his dwindling wealth, Johnathan didn't have much hope.

Agnes waited for Johnathan to return. She tried not to peek in the windows, fighting the curiosity that threatened to overtake her. Thankfully, the others lingered about as well, so engrossed in their own little adventures to pay much mind to the fact that she was standing outside the door of a metal shop waiting for the duke.

At long last, Johnathan emerged, the portly man and his—surprisingly equally—portly wife exiting behind him. The couple bore happy smiles, giving enthusiastic farewells to Johnathan as he bid them goodbye. Agnes couldn't help the curious stare as Johnathan made his way back to her.

"They seemed to be in high spirits," she commented before he had a chance to say anything.

"Yes, well…" Johnathan tucked his hands into his pockets again and they continued their stroll. Only Agnes had very little interest in the surroundings and far more in the gentleman by her side. "They requested some more time in paying their rent since business has been a little difficult lately."

"Did you grant it?"

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 the painful 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.

Johnathan looked at her, eyes glittering with humor. "Shall we?"

Agnes' smile was slow to come. When it did, she felt the pleasure all the way to the tip of her toes as she nodded. "Lead the way."

And I shall follow you anywhere.