Chapter Seventeen #3
“Yes, you do. To fix the Coopers’ reputations, you need to control the narrative,” Honora said. “A woman’s words can break a man in one breath, and build an empire with the next—that is done by attending tea parties, and talking. But first, you need to listen.”
They approached a trio of ladies, and Honora’s face softened.
“Good evening ladies.” With a firm push, Honora thrust Jasmine into the middle of the group, and she sang, “Ladies, allow me to introduce Lady Jasmine, a dear friend of mine.”
One lady appeared older than Jasmine’s mother, another, younger than Caroline, and the last somewhere in between. Like a hydra, they smiled with their mouths while watching her with wary eyes.
“Lady Jasmine, meet Lady Alverton, Lady Linwood, and Mrs. Winslow.” Honora gestured to each lady, from oldest to youngest. Jasmine struggled to remember their names, and she curtsied. “Good evening, ladies.”
“Lady Jasmine is looking into charitable causes to contribute to,” Honora said. “Might you be so kind as to share your endeavors?”
“I’m Lady Alverton,” the eldest woman said. “You have impeccable timing. I was just discussing workhouses near the docks. It’s atrocious the conditions those poor children are in.”
“Yes, there is always more that can be done for children, especially young girls,” Lady Linwood, the middle-aged woman, chimed in. “Too many end up in less reputable houses.”
“And we could reform those houses! Teach those women employable trade skills,” Mrs. Winslow turned to Jasmine. “Once you’re Lady Lincolnshire—” she stopped at Honora’s glare. Then, she gushed forth, “Pray forgive me, Lady Jasmine, I spoke out of turn.”
“Don’t mind Mrs. Winslow, she’s a newlywed. She sees love everywhere,” Lady Linwood explained. With an air of bored curiosity, she asked, “But perhaps it’s a matter of time…?”
Their eyes watched her with intent now. Not merely philanthropists, but gossips. Her eyes traveled to Honora, waiting for her response.
“Your time is precious, I would hate to waste it with idle talk.” Jasmine smiled and spoke with her mother’s diplomatic tone. “Tell me, where is the greatest need?”
The ladies all shared a smile, and Honora gave her a nod of approval.
For the next three dances, the ladies inundated Jasmine with the needs of workhouses, veterans, orphanages, and hospitals. She would discuss each with Matthew later. If he could purchase an entire livelihood, certainly he would help.
Her gaze drifted to him, commanding his own conversation. Mid-sentence, his amber eyes looked up to caress her own. His lips lifted, then he returned his attention to her father. The blush on his cheeks might have been a trick of the light, but she couldn’t claim the same of hers.
After some time, Jasmine and Honora wished the ladies a good evening and took their leave.
Sweat beaded on Jasmine’s brow, and in other unpleasant places.
She still had time before her dance with Matthew, and she needed to freshen up.
He had gone to so much effort for her. The least she could do was smell pleasant.
After excusing herself from Honora, Jasmine retreated to the retiring rooms. Lit by oil lamps, the dark room was a balm to her senses.
Sturdy walls muffled the music and chatter, giving her space to breathe.
Taking her time, she fixed her hairpins using the mirror in front of a porcelain washstand.
Powdered and presentable once more, she dabbed rose water behind her ears and gingerly dotted her wrist.
Soon, it would be time for her waltz with Matthew, then they would go their separate ways, and she would count the minutes until tomorrow. She closed her eyes and sighed.
Why did every separation from him feel like heartbreak?
Jasmine opened her eyes, looked in the mirror—
And found two of herself.
She jolted and twirled around to face Lady Ravenshaw, who gave her a gentle smile.
“There you are, Lady Jasmine. I’ve been meaning to have a word with you.”
“Good evening… Lady Ravenshaw, was it?” Jasmine asked. “If I remember correctly, Matthew introduced us at the park.”
“Yes, you’re making quite the social circuit. Haven’t stopped moving for a moment since you arrived in London,” Lady Ravenshaw said. “Some Spanish gentlemen even followed you here.”
“A boatload of them, with that logic. How may I help you?”
Lady Ravenshaw leaned against a support pillar and sighed. “It is with genuine concern that I say this—you should be cautious around Lord Lincolnshire.”
Good Lord, it was going to be one of those talks.
“And why is that?” Jasmine asked innocently.
“He’s depraved. He likes to play with women, and that’s putting it lightly. A delicate flower like you will be eaten alive.”
Depraved? Delicate flower?!
Jasmine laughed. “Lady Ravenshaw, you don’t know me at all.”
“And you don’t know Matthew,” Lady Ravenshaw hissed.
“I know Matthew better than you do. He’s a good man.”
Lady Ravenshaw gave a bitter laugh. “A good man might have disarmed an assailant, rather than taking his life.”
Sick of hearing it, Jasmine straightened her spine. She formed her hands into fists, ignoring the pain.
“Matthew did what he had to.”
“Yes, that is the rhetoric. Have you seen him shoot?” Lady Ravenshaw scoffed. “Of course you have—he shows all of his exploits that trick. Be smart. With his aim, he could have handled that situation much differently. He killed him because he wanted to.”
“It was pitch black—”
“Why would that matter to a man who can shoot blindfolded?”
Lady Ravenshaw might have seen Matthew shoot, but not like Jasmine had. If she had seen him with a pistol in his hand, shaking, blind, and scared for his family, she would know what Jasmine did.
And maybe Lady Ravenshaw knew Matthew differently, but nobody truly knew him.
He hid bits and pieces of himself from others.
In one evening, she saw him capable of cruelty, conquest, and ruthlessness.
But also comfort, care, and protection. His hands may be bloodstained, but they held her with love. When he was defeated, he rose up.
And he defended his family.
“You’re wrong.” Jasmine held her chin high and strode away. Before she reached for the door, she spoke over her shoulder. “And by the way, Lady Ravenshaw, the next time you strike my fiancé, I’ll return the favor.”
Jasmine exited the room, allowing the door to close behind her with a snap that shook the hinges. If Lady Ravenshaw intended to scare her away—she failed.
For once, Jasmine knew exactly what she wanted. Reentering the ballroom, she made a beeline for Matthew. His eyes widened, and a gasp left him when—without a word—Jasmine grabbed his arm and led him to the middle.
Right in front of everyone.
The back of his neck turned red. He laughed and gave her a sheepish grin. “It’s good to see you too.”
The candles above dimmed as they neared the end of their wicks, casting a faint glow over the two of them.
As they eased into movement, the rest of the ballroom faded.
Matthew led her with his fingertips. As if returning to her after a long day’s work, his face shifted into a lazy, tender smile.
They worked tirelessly this evening, and she wanted him to hold her.
Surely, she must love him now.
What else would explain her heart racing at the thought of him?
This desire to fight the world for him? Or the slow crawl of time when they were apart?
Every moment with him felt like stepping off a cliff, and she didn’t know if she was on the rocks, in the ocean, or somewhere in the middle.
She wanted to wait at home for him, to believe in him…
Because, by God, Matthew Cooper needed someone to believe in him.
She waited until his eyes were on hers, and because she knew he needed to hear it, “I want to marry you, Matthew. Only you.”
His hold on her tightened only slightly. His lips parted, and he almost tripped on his next step, but she righted their movements.
“I want that too,” he whispered back.
“Then let’s stop fighting this. Whatever this is between us,” she said, as much to herself as to him. “I’ll be yours, you’ll be mine, and we’ll figure the rest out along the way.”
“Jasmine, I’ll always be yours,” he promised.
He brought her a fraction closer, and she wanted to melt into him. Time escaped them, and she tried to be here, in the moment with him. A man she should have married years ago, had she not been so blind. But her eyes were open now, and she saw the full picture of Matthew Cooper.
He loved her.
And she was starting to love him back.