Chapter Six
“It was one kiss!”
Matthew had shouted it from the training room. The words echoed in the alley, as they did in her mind now. How her heart raced—and then dropped.
“She should have stayed in Spain!”
A sentiment she shared.
When Matthew followed her, bounding after her with the fit body of a fighter—shirtless, cheeks red, skin slick with sweat—her thoughts went blank, then flooded with devastating anger. She didn’t have it in her to withstand this back and forth with him.
It hurts too much.
Having not planned on an outing, Jasmine borrowed one of Cassandra’s more fashionable bonnets. Made of white silk with a lace trim and a mint-colored ribbon. She twisted the ribbon around her finger until her fingertip turned red, then released it and let the blood flow return.
Caroline’s suitor would arrive any minute, and then they would promenade. Upstairs, Caroline was dressing and Cassandra was finishing up with Rose’s nanny.
Jasmine focused on the ticking of the clock, calculating how much time she had before she needed to return home. A few hours at best, and she would spend every one of those hours away from her mother. She was sure to get a stern lecture for it, but she didn’t care.
I shouldn’t even go.
All she wanted was to be left alone.
A walk through Hyde Park on a Saturday seemed like less social interaction than going home to the legions of foreign dignitaries Jasmine had spent the ship ride trying to avoid. She couldn’t hide away alone in Cassandra’s house all day either.
The front door opened, the sound followed by an echoing of conversation between a deep voice and Mr. Davis’ muted replies.
That must be Caroline’s suitor.
Jasmine placed her bonnet on the settee and stood. Eager boots clipped down the hallway, getting louder with each step. Jasmine sighed once more. She prepared to don her mask of politeness and turned to greet the newcomer.
Matthew stood in the doorway, breathing hard.
Sweat beaded along his hairline. His coat hung over his arm, but he had no gloves or hat. With scuffed boots and an askew cravat, he looked as though he’d thrown himself together and sprinted there.
He looked at her as if she were an answered prayer. “Thank God.”
Before she could say anything, he held up a hand and entered the room. “Give me one minute.” Matthew’s voice wavered as he begged, “Please, let me speak first.”
With the earnestness in his eyes and the unfiltered remorse in his expression, she paused, then gestured for him to continue. “Go ahead.”
“I’ve been cruel to you. Allow me to start over.” In three strides, he stood before her and bowed low. Eyes squeezed tight, he whispered, “Welcome home, Lady Jasmine. I’ve missed you deeply. You cannot know how sorry I am for everything I’ve done.”
He remained bowed, as if he were beneath her. He lowered further and waited for her permission to rise. Jasmine’s voice caught. “Please, Matthew, don’t—”
“What are you doing here?” Caroline asked from the doorway. In a lemon-colored dress, she stood with one hand on her hip and held a white parasol in the other. “Don’t you have work to do?”
Matthew stood and pivoted to Caroline with a grin. “Indeed I do. The tasks never end, but I have no duty as important as promenading with my sisters and a dear friend.”
Cassandra walked into the room and looked Matthew over with a grimace. “You aren’t dressed for a walk.”
“Why, sister, I have everything I need.” He gestured to himself with a wide grin. “I have a coat, a spare hat upstairs, and a lovely lady to have on my arm.” He winked at Jasmine. “I’ll be the most fashionable man in London.”
Matthew donned his coat and smoothed back his hair. Stray strands stuck up and curled under his ears. It was longer than she had ever seen it, as if he hadn’t had the time for a proper haircut. How would it feel between her fingers? Her hand hovered in the air, then she snapped it back.
What is wrong with me?!
A knock on the door down the hall disrupted her thoughts. Mr. Davis opened the door, and another echoing exchange took place down the hall.
Matthew raised his brow at Caroline. The corners of his lips curled up in a devilish grin. “Are we expecting company on this outing, Caroline?”
“Matthew, don’t,” Caroline said through gritted teeth, then she turned to Cassandra. “Tell him he can’t come.”
“I have no control over either of you.” Cassandra sighed and shook her head. “If anyone can find a way to get Matthew to do something he doesn’t want, please let me know.”
“You all act like I’m some kind of monster,” he sang. “I’m excited to meet the gentleman who didn’t ask for my permission to promenade with my baby sister.”
Matthew braided his fingers together and stretched them back until his knuckles cracked.
Caroline growled, “I swear to you, Matthew, if you—”
In the doorway, Mr. Davis cleared his throat and announced, “Mr. Langford.”
A broad-shouldered young gentleman entered, dressed impeccably in a royal blue tailcoat, cream trousers, and gleaming black hessian boots.
His dark hair was two shades too brown to be black, as were his eyes.
He entered with a cordial smile that dropped at the sight of Matthew.
Eyes wide as a doe’s, he dropped into a bow. “Good afternoon, Lord Lincolnshire.”
“This is certainly a surprise.” Matthew gestured between Mr. Langford and Caroline. “Did Caroline arrange this personally, or…?”
To his credit, Mr. Langford stood with tensed shoulders and gave a polite, “Lord Lincolnshire, Lady Worthing assured me—”
“So it was Honora.” Matthew released a drawn-out sigh. “Very well. Seeing as you’re here, I could scarcely turn you away, now can I? We’ll all go.”
As the man paled, Matthew’s smile remained friendly, but his eyes glinted with mischief. The same expression he had when he dropped a frog down the back of Jasmine’s dress when she was twelve.
“And seeing as we’re an odd number, it looks like Cassandra will be chaperoning both of us.” Jasmine’s heart fluttered when Matthew turned to her, offering his arm with a hopeful smile. “We’ve gotten off on the wrong foot. Give me a second chance?”
Everyone waited for her move, but she hesitated, unwilling to rush this one small decision.
With his arm poised, he smiled at her as if she were the only person in the world.
She was torn between slapping his hand away and launching herself at him.
He was foolish, arrogant—and he had rushed there from a factory to apologize.
That was at least a start.
Oh, the hell with it.
“Why not?” She took his arm, as she had countless times before. The dirt on his clothing stained her white gloves, but warmth radiated from him. Raising a brow, she ordered, “You’re going to spend the entire walk apologizing.”
He laughed and nodded.
“I’ll kneel if you wish it, my lady.”
***
Even overflowing with people on a sunny day, Hyde Park retained its natural beauty and charm.
They walked under the branches of elms and oaks, where robins and blackbirds sang their songs.
With each step, the crunch of gravel under their feet filled the awkward silence in their group.
They kept to their side of the path to allow enough respectable space from others strolling along.
In front, Caroline and Mr. Langford walked side by side. Cassandra remained an appropriate distance behind them, as a proper chaperone—at least to one of her siblings. Arm-in-arm Jasmine and Matthew trailed behind Cassandra.
All the while, Jasmine’s heart hammered.
Matthew’s closeness had overpowered her senses. He smelled of gunpowder and ink. Every place his body touched hers tingled. His deep laugh rumbled against her as he spoke to Caroline, volleying insults back and forth over Cassandra’s head.
Mr. Langford kept eyeing their surroundings cautiously.
It took some time before Jasmine realized why.
As they walked, heads turned, and noses tipped upward.
Her mother’s friends, people she met at balls, gentlemen who previously asked her to dance—none met her gaze.
She looked at every face that passed by, even waving at a few, yet no one acknowledged her.
“It’s like we’re invisible,” Jasmine marveled.
“This is nothing,” Caroline assured her. “If anything, your presence does our family a great favor. They’re nice today.”
“Truly?”
Cassandra sighed. “It’s true. We are receiving better treatment with you here.”
“I’m surprised no one is rushing forward to save you from us,” Matthew grumbled under his breath. “Cowards.”
It was bizarre. Nobody was bothering her or stopping her for conversation.
“You know, I think I like this,” she said with a skip in her step. “I feel like I can do whatever I want.”
“Careful with that, it can get addicting.” A corner of Matthew’s lip lifted. “We might be on the bottom rung of the social ladder, but they can’t kick us off. None of them are brave enough for confrontation, but they do like to talk. Keep that in mind.”
“What do they say?” Jasmine asked.
Cassandra bristled. “Nonsense.”
“They call Matthew a demon,” Caroline replied casually. “That he kills people for sport and can destroy a lady’s virtue with a glance. He doesn’t have a soul. And on the full moon, he sacrifices goats to the devil.”
“Thank you, sister, for that beautiful summary,” Matthew drawled. “You forgot the part where I found you in a rubbish bin.”
Jasmine laughed. “Is any of it true?”
“I have never sacrificed a goat,” Matthew said flippantly. He raised his voice and spoke over Cassandra. “Mr. Langford, was it? Are you a second, or third son?”
“Third, my lord,” the man whispered.
Matthew whistled. “Third.”
“It doesn’t matter to me if he’s a third son or a tenth, only that his estate is far away.”
“Oh, in that case, you may marry tomorrow.” Matthew waved his arm at the man crudely. “Come now, sister. Don’t pretend like you’re interested in him. Everyone knows the only gentleman you want is—”