Page 13 of Jonathon, After All

“She has manners, though. Better than one of her fathers,” Giles reassured Jonathon and raised his hand. “She’ll give you space if you need it. She…understands, she’s already so wise,” he said.

Riley made a dreamy sound as he stared up at Giles. “He won’t admit it, but Giles is counting the minutes until his sidekick comes home. They’re inseparable when she’s here and Luna is very protective of her dad and brother,”

“I look forward to meeting her, then,” Jonathon said and found that he was, even though he was extremely nervous about having to converse with and impress a child. “Do you think she’ll like me?”

“Of course! I could use another cup of coffee,” Riley said, excusing himself. “What about you?” he asked Jonathon.

He slid his cup across the island. “Please.”

“I’m not sure if we’re supposed to say anything about it, but I like what you’ve done with your hair,” Giles said carefully, notching his chin at Jonathon and Riley gasped.

“I wasn’t either but I love it!” he said as he poured. He winced at Giles, then at Jonathon. “I wasn’t sure if you wanted to know or if it would upset you, but the Margrave’s people were here.”

“Oh?” Jonathon’s hand shook, causing the cup to rattle in its saucer as he drank. “That was fast.”

“I saw the guy in charge and he’s huge,” Riley said in a hushed whisper.

“Huge?” Giles asked, his brow furrowing even deeper as Riley nodded.

“I ran out for a bagel and fresh berries for our waffles and there was this giant Austrian—I assume he was Austrian, he spoke German—talking on the phone and giving orders to a bunch of Austrian minions—I assume they were Austrian, they spoke German too—who were questioning the doormen and the neighbors.”

“Why?” Jonathon asked, horrified as he glanced between Giles and Riley, but they just shrugged and shook their heads.

“The Margrave really wants to find you,” Riley guessed with a sheepish grimace.

Jonathon let out a petulant huff. “He should have started looking ten years ago.”

“I heard one of them say that your aunt is refusing to cooperate,” Riley told Jonathon, grinning. “Says she’s not talking to von Hessen until she’s heard from you.”

Giles whistled and shook his head. “I did not see that coming. I was sure she’d sell you out,” he said and Jonathon’s lips twisted as he considered.

“She has always been loyal, but I wasn’t sure if she would forgive me for this one. I don’t think she imagined I’d actually catch a margrave and then, to make that kind of a scene…”

Riley hummed in approval. “I’m changing my mind about your aunt. She has that giant and a prince in check.”

“Well, that’s a relief,” Jonathon laughed. “I suppose I should have given Muriel more credit, she’s always had uncanny instincts,” Jonathon said, making Giles cough.

“Are you referring to the same Muriel who thought we would be a good match? The same woman who called the fire department and the mayor last Easter to shut down the egg hunt in the courtyard?”

Jonathon nodded. “She was desperate, in our case, and she abhors plastic, pastel-colored eggs. Says there’s nothing tackier. And she’s terrified of rabbits—particularly rabbits in trousers.”

“What…?” Riley’s mouth opened and closed several times and Jonathon just shrugged.

“Muriel likes to keep her secrets and has always been a mystery,” he said simply, then tuned them out while they took guesses as to what Easter-related trauma could cause such a baffling phobia.

Jonathon knew better than to assume she was being irrational because Muriel usually had her reasons. Her mind had been honed by decades of reading everything from Homer to Dostoyevsky to King, but she was particularly fond of mysteries and romances. So was Jonathon and the two often traded book reviews and gossip as they took their late morning walks in the park or around the garden.

Jonathon laughed to himself as he recalled her theory about Herr Weber, the butler at Schönbühel. At the time, he had thought she was bored and her imagination was getting away from her as she cast wary glances over her shoulder at the house and told him to “act natural.”

“How else would I act?” Jonathon had asked, looking to see if anyone was even on the terraces or if there were groundskeepers around but they were alone. The garden was frosted over and a thin dusting of snow from the evening prior made soft crunching sounds as they walked.

She smacked his chest with a gloved hand. “Stop it. You’ll make him suspicious.”

“Who?”

“Herr Weber,” she said out of the side of her mouth.

“The butler?” he confirmed, earning a hard scoff from Muriel.

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