Читать книгу Historical Romance May 2017 Books 1 - 4 - Bronwyn Scott - Страница 22

Chapter Twelve

Jasper sat across from Jane in the coach as it carried them to his parents’ house and the dinner party awaiting them. He hadn’t seen Jane since their encounter in their bedroom. Even after he’d come home from the jeweller’s to dress, she’d been so occupied with Mrs Hodgkin there hadn’t been a moment for them to talk. He’d been secretly relieved, in no mood for a fight before they left for his parents’ house. When at last he could no longer put off facing her, he’d braced himself and come down from dressing to find her waiting for him in the sitting room. She’d been polite and sweet, peppering him with innocuous questions about his day and allowing him to escort her to the carriage, her small hand on his arm, her copper-coloured evening dress whispering against his legs as they walked. Yet for all her pretence to everything being well, the stiffness of her gait and the shallowness of her smile told him it wasn’t and, like him, she was doing her best to hide it.

It was time for him to make amends and bring the light back into her expression.

‘I have something for you.’ He removed a long, slender velvet box from his coat pocket and held it out to her.

She eyed it and him with suspicion. ‘What is it?’

‘Open it and see.’ He perched on the edge of the squab, eager for the smile his gift would bring to her red lips. He needed her good humour. He didn’t have enough of his own.

She pushed back the lid, her eyebrows rising at the gold-and-diamond necklace inside. ‘It’s stunning.’

Her response wasn’t. There were no effusive thanks, no squeal of delight or the throwing of her curving arms around his neck like she’d done before their visit to the theatre. With his gift he’d tried to recapture the joy of their first week together, just as he’d strived to maintain the connection between them this afternoon when he’d kissed her. He hadn’t been manipulating her into agreeing to his plan for separate rooms, only searching for the connection which had bound them together over the last few weeks, the one he’d severed with his foolishness. He should have known better than to think he could do it with jewellery.

She lifted out the necklace and the diamonds flashed in the carriage lantern light as she held it out to him. ‘Will you put it on me?’

‘Of course.’

She turned her back to him and he took both ends of the cool metal and slipped it around her neck. Her perfume encircled him like the gold did her neck, the arch of it tantalising beneath his fingertips. He wanted to press his lips to the tender skin, to make her sigh and tilt her head back to rest on his shoulder, to draw her closer and banish the discomfort between them. He fastened the clasp, then rested his hands on her shoulders. Her skin was soft and warm and as familiar as his own. When he slept in the mornings, he would miss the heat of her beside him and the ease of laying his palm on her firm thigh. The nights would be colder, too, without her in his bed. He thought he’d needed space, but he was fast learning what he needed was her. He was about to admit he’d been a fool to leave her room when the carriage rocked to a halt.

She turned her head, her eyes catching his, the uncertainty in their blue depths as strong as in the pit of his stomach. If he’d never gone to America, if he’d rejected Uncle Peter’s vices instead of embracing them, if he’d kept his promise to redeem himself, he’d be worthy of Jane’s heart.

Let her help you and make everything right again. He couldn’t, not when they were moments away from facing his family.

He removed his hands from her shoulders and she slipped back across the carriage to take her seat and wait for the driver to open the door and hand her down.

* * *

Jane held Jasper’s arm as they climbed the wide staircase to reach the sitting room and the party waiting for them. The necklace sat heavy around her neck. She wanted Jasper’s whole heart and the respect he’d promised her, not expensive gifts. She wasn’t as convinced as Mrs Hale of her ability to draw him out, and feared the distance between them would continue to grow until it could never be overcome. One day, she might walk into the Charton home alone the way she had after her failed engagement. She never wanted to face such humiliation again.

Voices and the melodious notes of Lily’s piano playing drifted out of the upstairs sitting room, adding a warm cheeriness to the house which could not penetrate her and Jasper. She’d been here a thousand times, but this would be her first as a wife trying to pretend everything with her marriage was well when it wasn’t.

They reached the sitting room, and Jasper’s sisters surrounded her in a flutter of oohs and ahhs over her new necklace. A week ago Jane would have tossed back her head to display her gift and revel in their admiration. Tonight, she wanted to hide it and herself. She should be grateful he’d thought of her and wanted to make her happy, but it was all on the surface, as false as the sets on the Covent Garden Theatre stage. Beneath the sparkle of the gems were so many questions and troubles she had no idea how to untangle. There’d been no time in the carriage, even during the moment when, with his hands on her shoulders, she’d wanted to reach out to him and ask if he still cherished and cared for her as he’d promised he would.

While Jane spoke with the Charton sisters, Jasper remained beside her as stiff as a horsehair cushion. He did what was expected of him, greeting his twin brothers with his usual charming smiles and jokes, his clothes impeccable as always, but she caught the tension around his eyes, the subtle avoiding of her questioning glances. It made it difficult for Jane to hold her smile and pretend, like him, everything was splendid.

She believed she was fooling everyone until Mrs Charton approached them, studying them with motherly regard. ‘Jasper, Jane, you both look so pale. Tomorrow night you must come with us to Vauxhall Gardens. The distraction will help you both.’

‘I think it would be lovely,’ Jane lied, adding another to the many already accumulated. Jasper was right, it ate at her like the distance between them did.

‘Perhaps another evening, I have some business to attend to,’ Jasper refused his mother with an apologetic smile, but it did nothing to ease the tiredness in his eyes. Apparently, she wasn’t the only one being worn down by this charade. How he’d managed it for so long while living in his parents’ house she couldn’t imagine.

‘Jasper, come here. Giles wants to talk to you about something called a railway.’ Mr Charton drew Jasper away, while Mrs Charton occupied herself with her grandchildren.

Jane was left to the sisters who dragged her to the arrangement of sofas in front of the fireplace, sat her down and peppered her with questions about how she and Jasper were getting on. Jane twisted herself into knots making up the imaginary life she lived with Jasper, the one they should be enjoying instead of this half-marriage.

Camille, Milton’s wife, sat across from her, listening intently and saying very little. More than once she caught Jane’s eye with a solemnity to make Jane wonder if the woman suspected Jane’s unease or if it was lingering discomfort over what had happened between them. For the first time Jane didn’t care about the past or Milton or Camille. All she cared about was Jasper and how there seemed to be more than the distance of the room between them.

She watched him while he spoke with his father. He didn’t notice her at first, but then his eyes met hers and the regret darkening them made her want to rush to him. Instead, she was forced to remain on the sofa pretending happiness for the benefit of his family. It made her feel more like a trained monkey than a married woman.

When the sisters at last lost interest in discussing Jane’s married life, Olivia stood to suggest a new amusement. ‘Who’d like to join me in a game of whist?’

A noticeable quiet drifted over the room.

Mr Charton thumped his hand on the table beside him, making a statue of a shepherdess rattle on her porcelain base. ‘Not in my house you won’t.’

‘Risking a pence or two among family isn’t going to land anyone in debtors’ prison, Father,’ Olivia scoffed. ‘After all, it’s not as if I’m suggesting we establish a gambling den in the sitting room!’

Jane exchanged a wary glance with Jasper, wondering if Olivia suspected them. She didn’t believe so. Olivia had always been the most rebellious and outspoken of the three sisters and much more like Jasper than any of the other girls.

Mr Charlton levelled a warning finger at his daughter. ‘If you’d seen the many men who’ve wasted my loans and their livelihoods on cards, you wouldn’t think it so funny.’

‘Everyone understands your feelings on the matter, Henry,’ Mrs Charton gently chided from where she held court near the window, surrounded by her grandchildren. She wore her favourite red-silk gown with a matching turban her daughters called old-fashioned, but which she adored. She was still lithe, despite having borne seven children.

The subject would have been dropped if Milton hadn’t decided to step in. ‘It’s a disgusting habit and, like Father, I’d be ashamed of anyone in this family who ever resorted to such a lowly way of life.’

‘Says the man who’s proven his talent at sneaking around,’ Jasper hissed.

The room went silent—even the grandchildren stopped talking. Across from Jane, Camille lowered her eyes and her cheeks turned bright red.

‘I think you’ve been away too long and forgotten how things are done in this family,’ Milton hissed back. Beside him, Alice allowed Jacob a drink from her glass. Jacob started to hand it to Giles when a warning look from Mrs Charton made him hand it back to his sister.

‘We can chastise a man for his sins, but once they’re done they’re finished. Now on to better topics,’ Mrs Charton insisted, bringing the matter to a close. But it didn’t smooth Jasper or Milton’s ruffled feathers, or ease Jane’s guilt. The family had accepted her even after the debacle with Milton and here she was, sitting in their midst, as two-faced as Milton.

‘Let’s play musical chairs instead,’ Alice suggested. Chairs scraped over the floor as the siblings and their husbands dragged them into place and Lily struck a chord on the piano to begin the game.

Olivia participated, but appeared more bored than amused. It was clear she and her brewery-owner husband didn’t mind small amounts of gambling. Jane wondered if she’d side with her and Jasper if their secret ever came out. She didn’t know Olivia well enough to be sure.

While the elder sisters and their husbands laughed and raced around to find open chairs, Milton sulked in the corner with Giles, who rolled his eyes at having been cornered by his complaining elder brother. When he finally managed to slip away and join Jasper and Mr Charton, Milton’s wife fawned over her spouse, trying to bring him out of his sulkiness to join the game. When Milton rebuffed her to help himself to the brandy in the corner, his wife remained by the wall, ill at ease among all the laughter.

Jane felt sorry for her. It wasn’t an emotion she expected to encounter, but there it was. She had more experience than she cared to admit with a husband pushing her away.

The brewer raced around the chairs behind Olivia who reached the open one first. The activity distracted Jane from noticing Jasper’s absence. She had no idea when or where he’d gone. No one else was missing.

Did he leave without me?

She shifted nervously on her feet. She used to read in the papers about husbands sneaking out never to be seen again. There was a ship leaving for America tomorrow. She was about to ask Mrs Charton where Jasper had gone when the rustle of skirts beside her made her turn. Camille approached, as pale as always, but there was a hint of determination in her mouse-like eyes. Jane forced herself not to scurry away from her like some startled elephant.

‘Good evening, Jane. I haven’t had a chance to speak with you the last two times we’ve been at events, but I wished to congratulate you on your wedding.’

‘Thank you.’ Jane did her best to be gracious. She and Camille had never been more than passing acquaintances, her father and mother moving in the same circles as the Rathbones and the Chartons. When they were young, they’d seen one another at birthday parties and teas, but they’d never been close. Other than having stolen Jane’s fiancé, Camille had never done or said an ill thing to Jane.

The laughter of the other married siblings rang through the room. It covered the quiet conversation between the ladies, although Jane couldn’t help but notice Mrs Charton regarding them before she turned back to her youngest grandson.

‘I also want to apologise for what happened,’ Camille stated without hesitation.

Jane gaped at Camille. She hadn’t expected this. She’d prefer it to be Milton, but she’d take it from the wife.

‘I’m quite over it, as you can see.’ She would have motioned to Jasper, but he was nowhere to be found. The same awkwardness she’d experienced the first time she’d attended a party after the unexpected elopement, when everyone had cast sympathetic looks her way, draped her again. ‘We needn’t speak of it.’

‘But we must. You see, I didn’t mean to hurt you, but Milton and I were so in love we couldn’t help ourselves.’ Camille said it in such a way Jane knew it wasn’t boasting. It stabbed at her because no such driving passion had met her and Jasper’s union. It had been a bargain, a negotiation, with little promise of more. ‘He also told me you’d already broken with him.’

He would, the lying rat. ‘Then why the secrecy and the elopement?’

‘My father doesn’t share my good opinion of Milton.’

Few did, but Jane didn’t want to cast aspersions on the love of Camille’s life.

‘I would have spoken to you about it sooner, but there’s never been a good time. Since we’re sure to be together at many gatherings in the future, I don’t want any bad blood between us and I’m eager to see Milton and Jasper reconciled, too.’

The woman was a fiancé-stealing saint. ‘I’m afraid it isn’t up to us.’

She couldn’t settle the current tension between her and Jasper, much less work a miracle between the two brothers.

‘We can certainly help. If you’ll agree to do it, so will I.’

She held out her hand to seal the pact with a shake. Jane stared at the ivory-satin glove covering it before she took it, Camille’s honesty and concern melting Jane’s grudge, but not her doubts about a reconciliation. It would be even harder to settle things between the brothers if Jasper turned his back on her for good, choosing his American woman over her. Her chest tightened as she imagined the looks and whispering she’d have to endure then.

‘I knew I could count on you. You’re so clever and quick. I’ve always admired you because of it.’ It wasn’t flattery and it left Jane speechless. Milton didn’t deserve his kind wife. ‘If you ever need someone to discuss things with, I’d be honoured to keep your confidences. I know how difficult it can be in this family.’

‘Yes, it can.’ Even if Jane wasn’t ready to spill her heart to the woman who whispered across the pillow to Milton, it was a comfort to think someone recognised a little of what she was facing, even if they didn’t know the true extent. It bolstered her confidence. If Camille could face her after what she and Milton had done, then Jane could be as courageous when it came to facing Jasper. She didn’t care if they were at his parents’ house. She wouldn’t run away from her fears any more, or try to act as if they didn’t exist or as if everything was fine. She’d knowingly gone along with his schemes, allowed him to set the tone for this marriage, afraid if she didn’t he would never give her all of himself, but it hadn’t worked. It had exhausted her and she couldn’t allow it to continue. She’d have a true husband and a real marriage.

‘If you’ll excuse me, I must find my husband.’

She had no idea where he’d gone, but she knew the Charton house well. She’d spent hours here with Jasper and Milton as a child, going up and down the servants’ passage to steal sweets from the cook while doing her best to avoid the dancing lessons Mrs Charton had imposed on her and her older girls. Dancing hadn’t interested her and she’d stolen away to find the brothers after the first quadrille. Mrs Charton, seeing the futility of pressing any more lessons on her, had never chased after her or demanded she act like a proper young lady. No one had. She missed the freedom of those old days, especially in regard to Jasper. Her relationship with him had been so simple and straightforward back then without all the complications of secrets, the past and the involvement of her heart.

She headed for Mr Charton’s study, remembering how she’d found Jasper there the night of his going-away party. He’d been contemplating the atlas on the stand near the desk, measuring again and again the distance between London and Savannah, the distance between himself and his family, and her. She’d tried to bolster his spirits, realising then how unlikely it was they would ever see each other again. Storms took ships all the time, as did sickness. Yet he had survived it all. He’d come back to her and made her his wife. She wouldn’t allow the past or another woman or whatever tormented him do what the entire Atlantic had failed to do—separate them for good.

She peered inside the study, relieved to find him here and not on his way to catch a ship to America. He stood before the fireplace, staring at the portrait of Mrs Charton’s siblings from five decades ago. The girls wore the fuller skirts then in fashion, their hair powdered and piled high on their heads. Mrs Charton, her round face fuller but her lively eyes unmistakable, stood holding the hand of her young brother, Patrick, while her elder brother and sister lounged on a nearby chaise.

Jane slipped up beside Jasper, the questions about Mrs Robillard and their future together begging to be spoken, but she held back. She was risking being hurt again and for the pain of abandonment to crush her, but she refused to be left alone and forgotten by the one man who’d pledged before their family and friends to cherish her. Mrs Hale was right, she shouldn’t doubt herself, but being open with anyone about her fears had never been her strong suit, except with Jasper. It was time to put some faith in herself and her old friend again.

‘I had the most interesting conversation with Camille,’ she stated, refraining for once from being blunt and jumping right in. She wanted to avoid startling him or setting him on his guard.

This garnered his attention at last. ‘Camille?’

She nodded. ‘She apologised to me.’

Jasper’s eyes widened. ‘Wonders never cease.’

‘She also wants to help end the trouble between you and Milton.’

Jasper opened and closed his hands where he held them behind his back. ‘If she can manage it, then she’s quite the miracle worker.’

‘I said I’d help her.’

The faint humour in Jasper’s eyes faded as he studied the carpet beneath his feet. ‘That’s very generous of you.’

‘I’m not doing it for her, but for you, although I’m not sure I should.’ She trembled as she met his eyes. Once she broached the subject, there would be no going back. She would face the truth, no matter the consequences, and live honestly with herself and Jasper at last. ‘Who is Mrs Robillard and why are you sending her money?’

* * *

Jasper’s neck tightened, her question striking him as hard as the news about Mr Robillard’s death. Shame welled inside him, fuelled by his family’s censure and the widening gulf between him and Jane. He studied her, a thousand excuses and ways to put her off colliding inside him, along with the temptation to answer her questions. He’d tried to keep his past from her, but she’d discovered something of it and, unlike her concern about the hell, he couldn’t shrug her off or avoid answering her very direct question. The challenge for him to be honest with her at last tinged her steady gaze, along with numerous unspoken accusations.

He rubbed the back of his neck, for the first time understanding why Mr Robillard had done what he had. The shame of facing his mistakes had left him with little choice. Jasper forced his hand down to his side. No, Mr Robillard had been a coward, taking the easy way out and leaving others to deal with the consequences. Jasper wasn’t so cruel or weak. Where Mr Robillard had thrown away all chance to redeem himself, Jasper could reclaim the trust he’d damaged, but in doing so he’d have to show her the darkest parts of himself, the ones even he shied from viewing.

She shifted on her feet and the diamonds around her neck sparkled in the candlelight. They reminded him of her bright eyes the night he’d showed her the hell and her willingness to join with him in all his ventures, good and bad. He’d shown her the basest parts of himself then and she hadn’t run from him. It was time to trust she wouldn’t again and remove at least one of the obstacles he’d put between them.

He turned to the portrait and his uncle’s childish smile. ‘Mr Robillard was a plantation owner who used to gamble at the Savannah hell. A week before the yellow fever really took hold, he lost everything at the tables. The next day, he shot himself, leaving behind a widow with three children and no means of support.’

He could feel her ease beside him as she took in what he said. ‘So you send her money to help her?’

‘It’s the least I can do.’ He reached out and took hold of the mantel, leaning hard against his hand, hesitant to go on, but he had to. Maybe if she could forgive him he could at last forgive himself. ‘I was there the night Mr Robillard lost everything. I was the one who extended him credit, allowing him to continue playing, deeper and deeper until there was nothing left. I’m the one who drove him to ruin and to kill himself.’

She slipped her hand in his free one, squeezing it gently instead of offering him useless condolences or trying to convince him the planter’s death wasn’t his fault. Her silent patience allowed him to continue.

‘After Mr Robillard killed himself, I tried to convince Uncle Patrick to return the plantation to Mrs Robillard, but he wanted to be Lord of the Manor and he wasn’t going to let right or wrong get in the way of his dream. It was the first time I realised how cold he really was. Afterwards, I stormed out of his house, ready to be through with him because he wasn’t who I wanted to be and it wasn’t how I wanted to live. I didn’t see him again until a few weeks later when the fever was destroying the town and his maid came to tell me he was ill. I went back to his house to take care of him, expecting to find him more humble and repentant.’

‘But he wasn’t.’

Jasper shook his head. ‘He blamed me for his illness. Said I could have made sure there was food in the house before there was none to be had, paid the nurse and the maid more money to stay, taken care of him the way he’d taken care of me during my illness the year before.’

‘And still you stayed to see to him.’

He let go of her hand and tugged off the ruby ring. ‘I couldn’t let him die like a lonely dog, even if he did it while cursing me for betraying him and everything he’d ever done for me.’ He turned the ring between his thumb and forefinger. ‘After the quarantine ended, I returned the plantation to Mrs Robillard, but with everyone dead there was no one to work it and the land couldn’t support her or her children. By helping her I’m trying to make up for what Uncle Patrick did to them and convince myself I’m nothing like him.’

She cupped his chin and turned his face to hers. ‘You are nothing like him.’

‘Aren’t I?’ He pulled away from her and pinched the ring between his fingers, pressing on it so hard he hoped the metal would bend and the stone would shatter. ‘All the years I was with Uncle Patrick, I did everything I could to emulate him, wilfully refusing to see what he was or what it made me. Then, when I had the chance to walk away from it, I came home and went right back to being a hell owner.’

‘Then give it up, now, tonight.’ She laid a settling hand on his shoulder. ‘Turn it all over to Mr Bronson and walk away. Stop allowing it to destroy you and us.’

He slid the ring back on his finger as a different fear smothered him. The image of a narrow and dark bedroom stinking with sickness and the thick southern air rose up to blot out Jane, while the weakness of hunger and the uncertainty of survival ripped at his gut once more. ‘I can’t.’

She plucked her hand off of him. ‘What do you mean you can’t? If it’s tormenting you this much, you must.’

He glanced at the study door, remembering where they were and who might stumble in on him. He dropped his voice and stepped closer to her. ‘You don’t know what it is like to go without, Jane, to be starving and not be able to buy food, not to be able to escape the death and poverty around you. If I give up the hell and the club fails, we could lose everything.’

‘It would never be so dire. We have our families to help us.’

‘Not if they find out who I really am.’ Chester Stilton’s threat echoed in the silence. Uncle Patrick had concealed his real rottenness for years, but it hadn’t lasted, and neither had the glamour and gain of the gambling room, or even Jasper’s secrets. He touched her cheek, tracing the delicate line of it. ‘I won’t see you suffer the way I saw so many others suffer in Savannah.’

She covered his hand with hers. ‘We’re stronger than this, Jasper, strong enough to face anything thrown at us, but only if we do it together. The hell is pulling you away from me and it will continue to do so unless you give it up.’

‘If we lose the money from the hell, we’d be poor in months.’

‘We can live off my inheritance.’

‘I won’t ruin you.’

‘It’s worth the risk if it helps you.’ She brushed a few strands of his hair off his forehead. ‘Besides, I don’t need fancy jewellery. I only need you.’

He stroked the line of her jaw with his thumb. She was offering him a real chance to be a better man and it increased his guilt. He should have confided in her sooner, drawn her closer instead of trying to keep her away. She was an exceptional woman who deserved respect and love.

Love.

He didn’t say it, but it was there in his eyes as he gazed at her. He did love her and she loved him, but it wasn’t enough. Not even the bonds of family had been able to stop Jasper and Uncle Patrick from falling out, especially when things had turned dire. If he and Jane lost everything, she’d blame him for their misfortune the way Uncle Patrick had blamed him for his. ‘Don’t you understand? I’m doing this for you.’

Jane lowered her hand and stepped back, a loss of hope to remind him of Mrs Robillard filling her eyes. ‘You’re choosing the hell and all the lies and troubles it entails over me and our marriage.’

‘No, Jane, you’re wrong.’ He reached for her hand, but she jerked it back.

‘I’m not. I’ve done all I can to establish the club, but in your mind it’s already sunk before we’ve even opened it.’

‘I didn’t say that. I want out of the hell, but I can’t see the men I employ plunged back into poverty, or risk losing my ability to help Mrs Robillard and her children, and I refuse to place our security or our futures in jeopardy.’

‘And what future would that be? I’ve spent most of this evening fooling your family about our livelihood and about us, and you’ve gone days doing the same to me. You think I don’t know you’re keeping things about the hell from me, things that are bad enough to make you lose sleep and to ask for separate rooms?’

‘I’m doing it to protect you.’

She raised a finger at him. ‘Lie to yourself as much as you wish, but I told you the day we were betrothed I didn’t want you to conceal things from me, or embarrass me the way Milton did with your secrets and deception, and yet that’s all you’ve done. Do you know what it was like to stand before Mr Steed and sign the draft, not knowing if I was giving him permission to send money to your lover? I don’t want to sit around wondering where the next unpleasant surprise will come from or when I’ll be humiliated by you again. The Jasper I used to adore never would have done this to me.’

‘You’re right. He wouldn’t have, but that Jasper is gone. He died in Savannah.’ At one time, he’d wondered who would appear to destroy her faith in him and in the end it hadn’t been anyone but himself. He’d been a fool to think he could return here and redeem himself, and now Jane saw him for the ruined and blighted man he really was. He waited for her to curse him, to rail against him, but she simply stared, as lost today as the morning of her parents’ funeral. He’d comforted her then; he couldn’t do it tonight because he was the one making her grieve.

The fast fall of footsteps in the hall punctuated the silence between them before Giles burst into the room. ‘Jasper, we need you in the sitting room. It’s an emergency.’

Without a word to Jane, Jasper followed Giles out of the room, cursing the interruption. The moment to draw Jane back to him, to find a way out of this mess, had slipped away, taking with it so many things. ‘What’s happening?’

‘Someone Father refused for a loan is here. He’s not happy and he won’t leave.’

‘Why aren’t Father’s men removing him?’

‘Jacob went to fetch them.’

They turned down the hall and made for the sitting room. This wasn’t the first time an irate man with a parcel of debts hanging over him had stormed into the house. It had been years and it made Jasper realise Jane was right about his father’s lax security. He’d have to make sure it was changed. He wouldn’t have his family threatened by anyone.

Then he and Giles turned the corner and Jasper stopped dead on the threshold. Across the sitting room stood Chester Stilton, his bloodshot eyes wider and more frantic than when he’d approached Jasper the other night. His clothes were wrinkled and the aroma of cheap wine hung about him.

‘Ah, here’s your prodigal son now.’ Chester threw out his arms to Jasper, wavering on his feet. ‘He can tell you I’m right. He can confirm everything I’ve told you.’

It was then Jasper noticed the deathly still in the room. The secret he’d feared coming out for so long had been revealed. The evidence was in the faces of his family as they stared at him, especially his father. The disappointment bending his shoulders cut Jasper like a sabre. His mother stared at the rug under her feet, as stunned as the rest of the family by what she’d heard. Everything great and wonderful they’d believed about their son had crumbled and there was nothing Jasper could say or do to defend himself or build back what Chester had torn down.

‘He runs a gambling hell in a warehouse near the Thames, enriching himself by ruining honest men, teasing and tempting them with the promise of riches while he plucks them dry,’ Chester sneered.

Jasper’s father’s men, led by Jacob, pushed past him and Giles as they hustled into the room. Chester writhed against them as they grabbed him by the arms, his voice growing higher and more frantic when they dragged him toward the door. ‘If you don’t believe me, ask his little wife why her husband isn’t warming her bed at night. She’ll tell you I’m right.’

Jasper turned to discover Jane beside him, her humiliation as palpable as his father’s. She didn’t come close to him as she had in the study or slip her hand in his and offer her silent support. Instead she moved away and he didn’t fault her for it. All she’d ever asked for was his care and friendship, and all he’d done was heap her with scorn and shame and drag her down with him in his family’s eyes.

‘Get him out of here,’ his father commanded his men.

They pulled Chester to the door, bringing him close to Jasper.

‘I told you I’d ruin you,’ Chester spat out while he continued to fight the men, his feet dragging over the wood when they pulled him into the hallway. Chester’s curses faded down the stairs and outside as the men dragged him away. Silence engulfed the room. Not even the coals dared to crackle as Chester’s revelation continued to echo off the walls.

‘Is it true?’ A purple rage tinted his father’s face as he fixed on Jasper.

The time for lies was over. It was time for the truth. Deep down in the places he hid from everyone except himself he was glad. ‘It is.’

His sisters gasped along with their mother. Only Milton seemed to be enjoying the spectacle, grinning like a covetous player watching the Hazard wheel spin. Jasper ignored him and examined the rest of the family, some of whom, like Lily and Giles, avoided his gaze. Whatever esteem they’d held for him and everything they’d thought or imagined about him had been destroyed, just like he’d torn himself down in Jane’s eyes.

‘Did you know about this?’ his father flung at Jane.

‘I did.’

Jasper stepped between his father and Jane, trying to shield her from his mistakes the way he’d failed to do before. ‘I made her promise not to tell you. I’m to blame for everything, not her.’

His father’s fury whipped back to Jasper. ‘How could you? How could you live in this house and deceive us like you did? We loved you, took care of you and all the while you were sneaking behind our backs to betray every value we hold dear.’

Jasper closed his eyes, hearing his uncle’s accusations in his father’s, except here he deserved them. All the things his father and Jane blamed him for doing, he’d done. He opened his eyes and faced him, ready to confess to everything, even if it destroyed for good their love and concern for him. He refused to hide his real self any longer. ‘I didn’t come home and do it. I did it in Savannah, too. This is what Uncle Patrick taught me, not the cotton trade. How to lure men into his gambling house and use their weaknesses to enrich myself. He hid it from you and taught me to do it, too.’

His father’s jaw slackened and for the first time ever he seemed at a loss for words. His siblings exchanged surprised looks, but his mother’s fallen face as she stared at the rug hit Jasper the hardest. Like her son, everything she’d believed about her favourite brother was being ruined. He didn’t want to tear his family apart or cause any of them more hurt than he’d already inflicted, but he was done with lying. This was who he was and this was his past, and they must finally see it.

‘If we’d known what we were truly sending you to, we never would have done it,’ his mother offered in a soft voice, struggling like the others to take in the news.

‘I don’t blame you or Uncle Patrick. I blame myself. I could have written to you and come home when he told me his secret, but I didn’t. I chose my path in Savannah and I chose it here.’ He turned to Jane who nervously spun the bracelet on her arm, as uncertain now as she’d been the morning he’d almost broken their engagement. ‘If I could go back and change it all I would. I never wanted to hurt anyone. I only wanted to ensure those I love, especially you, were secure in a way that I wasn’t at the end in Savannah and I did it the only way I knew how.’

Jane’s fingers stilled on the bracelet, but she said nothing. This wasn’t how he’d wanted to reveal his heart to her, but she had to know he loved her. He always had. Maybe it would help her not to regret so many things the way he did. If he could undo it all he would, but it was no longer possible.

Jasper shifted on his feet, eager to leave. He couldn’t stay here, not with everyone staring at him as though he were some ugly thing masquerading as a husband and son. He’d violated the beliefs they held sacred and passed himself off as an imposter. It was time for him to go.

* * *

Jane stared at the empty doorway to the sitting room, avoiding the accusing and censorious looks of the Charton family. She couldn’t face them, especially Milton and the sneer he tossed at her or the disappointment in Mr Charton’s eyes. After all their years as friends of her family, everything they’d done for her, she’d rewarded their affection by betraying their trust. She deserved every bit of the shame covering her. Except it wasn’t only her own actions garnering their condemnation, but Jasper’s, too, and he was no longer here, having left her to face his family alone. He had said he loved her before he’d gone, but it didn’t matter if he wasn’t willing to remain beside her. Once again someone she loved had left her and she wasn’t sure he would ever return.

Unable to stand the silence any longer, she held her head high and walked slowly out of the room. Tears blurred her vision and she hung on tight to the banister to stop from tripping down the stairs. In less than an hour her world had fallen to pieces and she was more alone than the morning the nurse had shooed her from her mother’s sickroom.

She reached the bottom of the stairs and crossed the entry hall, wiping her eyes in an attempt to pull herself together in front of Alton, who waited beside the open door. The tears wouldn’t stop and no matter how tall she stood, the old butler she used to accept peppermints from continued to watch her with a mixture of pity and disapproval, and it tore at her.

Outside, she wrapped her arms around her against the chill, unwilling to go back inside for her wrap. She approached the carriage with slow steps, hesitant to go home and sit alone while all of her and Jasper’s mistakes haunted her. She was tired of being alone and wouldn’t do it any more. There was only one place she could go, to the one person who’d never walked away from her, even when she’d done her best to push him away.