Chapter Thirteen
Fleur wanted to stop time. She didn’t want to hear his answer. Earlier he’d said he was frightened of the truth and what it might force him to face. He was not alone. She was scared of the truth, too. She didn’t want to believe this tawny-eyed man, who could heat her blood with a touch, was guilty of deliberate censorship, that he would seek to buy out her newspapers in order to protect his brother. She sat on the edge of her chair, braced to face one more betrayal.
‘I wanted to help you.’ She’d not expected that. For a moment she was speechless in his presence, yet again. When she said nothing, he gave an elegant shrug of his shoulders. ‘You were selling the papers anyway. I thought a quick sale would be helpful to you, to show the board of directors the papers had value.’
She nodded. She’d initially thought the same thing. ‘But you if owned the papers, you could also choose to not print any news about the investigation.’ She voiced the concern with a certain amount of tentativeness. Here was another answer she didn’t want to hear.
He answered slowly, thoughtfully. ‘I could and, to be honest, I would probably not print any stories that continued to make my brother appear to be the lone villain until the links were ironclad. I know you would find that disappointing. However, if he were indeed guilty of taking money and not making the repairs, I would not stop the story from running. In my mind, that would be undue and intentional censorship.’ She felt she could breathe again. It might not be the way she would do things, but it was a tenable compromise, one that was honest and fair.
‘Thank you. I appreciate your candour. But I must offer some candour of my own. I do not know how open the board of directors will be to an offer from Meltham, given the...um...circumstances with your brother.’ Perhaps that had been another guiding reason for him offering as Wincastle. Now that she had time to think, it was possible that choice hadn’t been all about tricking her. He’d been trying to help her as best he could.
‘Well, I tried.’ He gave a wry smile before sobering. ‘He’s gone, you know. Orion left a note saying town was too hot for him at the moment.’
That was news. Not that it mattered if he was in town or not. The stories could run with or without him. But she could see his brother’s absence bothered Jasper. ‘I suppose you blame me for that.’
He gave a short nod. ‘I do. The stories in the Tribune have called him out as a prime suspect in the “new” investigation the Tribune is single-handedly running. It’s called enough attention to him that he feels it is difficult to go about in society.’ He shook his head. ‘He can’t go home to Meltham because the story has run in your regional papers up there and it’s called him out in front of our people. I don’t know where he’s gone. I hope he’ll resurface. He left before I could talk with him.’
Fleur slipped her hand from his grasp. ‘I’m sorry.’ She sincerely was. Sorry that he was hurting. Sorry that his brother was gone. Sorry that she was part of it. Through her choices, she’d hurt him, this man she cared for.
He fixed her with a firm stare. ‘I did not tell you so that you’d be sorry. I told you so that you would be aware. Your quest has real, concrete consequences, not just for a single individual, or for yourself, but consequences that will spread like ripples on a pond. When you act, you are not choosing those consequences just for yourself, but also for others.’
There was much left unsaid there—that she would be choosing for him. Choosing for his mother. Choosing for Lord Orion. Choosing for all the families affected by the accident. Lord Orion Bexley’s leaving was a tangible consequence, no doubt, the first of many that she would be responsible for.
She gave him a solemn nod. ‘This quest is indeed dangerous for both of our reputations. I admit that I’ve printed a story that has caused your brother to flee the town to escape social persecution. But you must also admit that fleeing certainly lends itself to believing he has something to hide, that he is indeed guilty.’
She was silent for a while, letting them both digest that. Neither side of that coin was particularly pleasant for either of them to contemplate.
‘You may have the right of it. With so much at stake, this is best undertaken together.’ At least for as long as an alliance could last. She did not delude herself in thinking that it would be an indefinite association. If his brother was guilty, Jasper’s loyalty would be sorely tested no matter what he said tonight. How would he truly feel when that moment came? Would his integrity and trust withstand that test? It was an enormous leap of faith for her.
‘I think to undertake our investigation, we must leave the city,’ Jasper said.
She gave him a questioning look. ‘What are you suggesting?’
‘I am suggesting we go back to the scene of the accident. What we really need to find, we’ll find there or not at all. My family seat is not far from Holmfirth. Tomorrow, we leave for Meltham.’
Another woman would have baulked at such a speedy departure for what might appear to be a spontaneous trip to the country in the midst of the Season. But not Fleur. She spent the night packing, writing out instructions for the paper, rescheduling meetings and sending notes of regret cancelling her attendance at a few upcoming events. This trip pre-empted all else because it decided all else. This trip was not as much a spontaneous occurrence as it was an inevitable one. The events of the past year had been leading up to this. This was the way forward.
Fleur closed her travelling trunk shortly after one in the morning, letting the enormity of the trip overwhelm her at last. When she came back from Meltham, it would all be over, the search for justice settled. She was both excited and terrified by the prospect. To have closure, to know for sure, would be a blessing and it ought to bring peace, but she wondered if it would. It couldn’t bring Adam back; it couldn’t resolve the differences their marriage had ended on. It could not absolve her of the guilt she carried. But it could help the paper, it could solidify her position and her ability to hold on to Adam’s empire.
She had slept very little that night, her thoughts in turmoil. She rose early and dressed in a blue travelling ensemble that she liked for its simplicity, then left the house. Better to do her waiting at the station than roaming the house and checking the clock every two minutes. This way she could feel as if she was doing something.
Alone at the station, she had another set of nerves to contend with. She could not ignore the other facet of this trip. She was going away with Jasper. Not the Marquis of Meltham, or Lord Umberton, but with Jasper. A man whose touch made her tremble, whose gaze made her warm, made her feel seen. A man who had kissed her, made wild love to her and danced with her beneath the moonlight. A man who made her feel alive, even though he was poised on the opposite side of the business between them.
How might that play out? He’d said they were friends last night. Was that all there was for them? Whatever there could be between them would always be short term, but Meltham offered a certain freedom to explore that potential, away from society’s eyes. Away from his mother’s list of debutantes, away from politicos and a prickly board of directors who might find their association a conflict of interests.
She caught sight of his tall, broad-shouldered form cutting through the crowd coming towards her, her pulse quickening at the sight of him in his buff trousers and blue coat. She rather wished her pulse wouldn’t do that. It made her mind ask difficult questions like what would happen if they were just Jasper and Fleur, if they could just be themselves? Was that even possible? Or was the business between them too much?
‘You’re early. I am impressed.’ Jasper smiled, his gaze lingering on her longer than needed, and the conversation lagged into an uncomfortable silence. Perhaps he, too, was nervous. What had seemed like a straightforward idea in the quiet of the evening suddenly seemed more complicated by daylight. Or perhaps, like her, it was simply nerves born of their unsettling attraction to one another. He recovered first. ‘Are you ready for our adventure? Our train is over here.’
He dropped a hand to the small of her back and ushered her towards the London Northwestern Railway locomotive, already huffing on the track. They let talk of the journey’s details fill the empty space and ease the way. ‘I have a first-class compartment reserved for us. We might as well enjoy some luxury while we can. I’ve arranged for breakfast to be served privately.’
She smiled. ‘You’re spoiling me. Should I be concerned?’
He laughed. ‘We’ll see if you feel that way at the end of the day. Not all of our trains will be this comfortable.’ They’d take this train to Leeds and then a train to Huddersfield. From there it would be a carriage ride to the seat of the marquessate at Rosefields. ‘It will be a long day.’ He handed her up the steps into the train car, allowing her to precede him down the narrow aisle leading to their compartment, each gesture making her acutely aware of him, of his closeness, of his consideration even though she could very well be the enemy before this was through.
‘I don’t mind.’ She laughed over her shoulder, catching his gaze. ‘It is still a marvel to me that we will be in the west Yorkshire Dales tonight when it would have taken three or four days to make the journey by coach just a few years ago.’
‘We’re right here.’ He gestured to the coupe compartment at the far end of the train car. ‘The compartment seats three, but I bought the third ticket so that we needn’t worry about any intrusions. Ah, look, our breakfast basket has already arrived. Thank goodness, I’m famished.’
She was famished, too, Fleur realised as their day progressed. Famished not for food, but for care. She secretly revelled in the little comforts he’d arranged because she’d not had to do the arranging. Along with that secret came another one: part of her liked being cared for, looked after, having someone else to share the burden for once. Not all the decisions had to be hers alone.
She’d had that with Adam. Mostly. At least she’d thought she had. They’d made decisions about which charities to support, which stories to run, which direction to take the newspapers. Of course, she knew now that it hadn’t been perfect. Decisions about the debt had not included her. And when it had come to the biggest decision in their marriage, the decision to have a family, Adam alone had made the choice.
With Jasper she would be certain to ensure this was a true sharing of responsibility. She was well aware that control was hard for both of them to surrender. Until last night, Jasper had controlled when they would meet by withholding an address. But she’d paid for lunch. These were small things, but they did hint at the larger need. They were both establishing their boundaries, protecting themselves. And yet the thought tickled: wouldn’t it be wonderful if instead of protecting themselves, they could protect each other. She feared circumstances made that an impossibility, a reminder that even this partnership had limitations.
‘Fleur, Fleur, wake up, we’re nearly there.’ A gentle shake roused her as a soft early evening light bathed the interior of the coach. Sweet heavens, she’d fallen asleep. Jasper shifted on the seat beside her and she realised where she’d slept. On the ledge of his broad shoulder, or from the looks of his once perfectly pressed coat, against his chest in that space where shoulder meets torso. She put a quick hand to her face, hoping she hadn’t drooled. It was bad enough she’d fallen asleep on him.
‘I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to...’ She stifled a yawn. ‘The late night apparently caught up to me,’ she apologised.
He gave a soft smile. ‘I didn’t mind. Although I was worried it might have been my company that had sent you off into the arms of Morpheus.’
‘Not at all,’ she assured him truthfully. He’d been an excellent travelling companion today, full of interesting small talk about the countryside they were passing. By tacit agreement, they’d discussed nothing too meaningful, or too personal that would lead them back to their business. Yet talking with him had still been enjoyable. It was no wonder he was one of the most sought-after bachelors this Season. He knew how to put a person at ease, how to engage them even on the most mundane of topics.
He leaned forward to look out the window, then turned to her with a smile that spoke volumes. ‘We’re coming down the drive now. You can see the house.’ There was pride in his voice, she noted, and relief, too. He liked it here. Rosefields was not just the seat of the marquessate it was also a homecoming for him.
And he’d invited her here, into his world.
Fleur’s hands clenched in her lap as she took in the sandstone fa?ade of the house. The realisation was a bit overwhelming given that it might shortly become the site in which a horrible truth was revealed. How might that taint his associations with the place? ‘It’s very beautiful,’ she acknowledged.
‘I’ll give you the tour after supper if you’d like. I thought we’d dine on the terrace and enjoy the spring evening.’ He paused, reconsidering. ‘Unless you are too tired?’
‘Not at all. It would be good to stretch my legs. I am not used to so much sitting.’ Or so much comfort, so much spoiling. Was that what he was counting on? They’d sworn to be friends, to be on the same side, but he’d deceived her once. She would be foolish not to think about this from a strategic point of view.
Were today’s comforts meant to lull her into complacency? Was being here at Rosefields meant as an attempt to soften her desire to pursue his brother? Was their very attraction to each other meant to also be a tool by which her mettle was undone? She didn’t want to think of it that way, but she must. Her station in life required it. A woman alone must always be on her guard. Even at the paper she wasn’t safe. The board of directors were always looking to question her decisions.
The carriage came to a halt and the step was set. Jasper jumped out first and handed her down, his grip on her fingers warm and sure, yet a cold, warning trill went down her spine as she looked up at the majestic fa?ade of the house. What had she walked into?
She was on the Marquess’s ground now and she was alone.