Chapter Twenty-Five #2
“Everyone in our family is dangerous! You didn’t tell me he was evil! Keeping secrets from me is not keeping me safe. It didn’t with Jasmine—” Caroline’s words ended with a broken cry, and tears streamed down her face. “You should all be ashamed of yourselves!”
Cassandra called down the stairs, “That’s enough, all of you.”
Holding onto the railing, she made her way down the steps. Seth reached for her hand, and guided her down the last steps. At the bottom, she turned to Matthew.
“Jasmine’s asleep again. It wouldn’t do for her to wake up alone.”
Needing no other excuse to leave the room, Matthew bounded up the stairs to return to Jasmine’s side. Conversation continued downstairs, but he closed the door to block out the sounds—leaving him in silence with Jasmine.
She was now dressed in one of Cassandra’s cotton nightgowns, and he tried not to think of the last time he had seen Jasmine in a nightgown.
The first time, he corrected. There will be other times.
Unless Duke Kendall gave her too much laudanum. Pressing his fingertips to Jasmine’s neck, he counted her heartbeats to the ticking of the clock.
It was so slow.
Thump. Thump. Thump.
Followed by a thunderous pounding on the front door.
THUMP-THUMP-THUMP.
Aunt Valentine bellowed, “Where is my daughter!?”
A stampede of footsteps echoed from the stairs.
Matthew steeled himself and opened the door.
Aunt Valentine stormed into the room, Lord Dorchester at her heels.
Scurrying behind them, a grey-haired physician carried a leather bag, breathing hard to keep pace.
Aunt Valentine brushed past Matthew. Holding her skirts in her fists, she sat on the bed next to Jasmine and demanded, “Tell me everything.”
“Duke Kendall poisoned Jasmine with laudanum,” Matthew said through his teeth. “He tricked her, drugged her, put her on a bed, and offered her to me—as a gift.”
“Did he take liberties?” Aunt Valentine’s words caught. “Because if he touched her, I will kill him myself.”
“He said he didn’t, but that doesn’t mean anything.”
The physician stepped forward to peer over Jasmine.
“If she has indeed been given laudanum, there is little I can do. Had the dose been fatal, we would see more alarming signs. At this stage, smelling salts might wake her.” Then the physician said pointedly, “For all other concerns, I’ll need to examine her. If we might have a moment?”
Lord Dorchester brushed Jasmine’s hair from her face and kissed her brow. He inclined his head toward the door, and Matthew followed him into the hallway.
Even now, Lord Dorchester stood there expressionless. As if his daughter merely had a cold. Matthew wanted to throw things at him, to blame the other man for putting them in this situation, for taking a hands-off approach that only led to disaster.
“Did anyone witness this?” he asked. “Anyone at all who can corroborate your claim?”
“No one who will admit it. Perhaps a servant, but their word is useless. Plenty of witnesses saw me walking out with her. Duke Kendall greeted us right at the door. The snake—he trapped me!”
“You should have sought me out, instead of taking matters into your own hands,” Lord Dorchester said.
“Leaving her wasn’t an option.”
“There are avenues for this—”
“Ineffective ones!” Matthew glared at him. “Do you know the legal punishment for assaulting a marquess’s daughter? A fine. And not even that because there’s no proof and he’s a duke.”
Lord Dorchester’s silence hung over the hallway. He ran his hand through his hair and leaned his head back against the wall.
“You separated us to teach me a lesson,” Matthew said. “So teach it to me. Tell me what I’m supposed to do, because I can’t put a round in this one’s head. So tell me—” he ground his palms into his eyes. His voice cracked. “Please, tell me what to do.”
Lord Dorchester remained silent for long moments, then he whispered, “What would you do if you were in my position?”
Matthew considered his answer.
“Let me marry her, and I can send her to Lincolnshire. I’ll keep her there, I’ll keep her safe.” Matthew’s voice broke. “Or send her back to Spain. But get her out of London. Because, if she stays, I’m afraid—”
He won’t stop.
Sir Reginald hadn’t stopped then, and Duke Kendall wouldn’t stop now. Duke Kendall had absolute immunity—he could do whatever he wanted to Matthew’s family, and there wasn’t a way to fight him. The only answer was retreat.
“If you married Jasmine, you would take her to Lincolnshire,” Lord Dorchester repeated. “Far from me and her mother? Rob her of her future as a woman of influence in this country, or another?”
“I would take her wherever necessary to keep her safe.” Matthew looked down at his hands. “But that answer depends on Jasmine. If she doesn’t want to marry me…” He swallowed hard. “I would respect her decision.”
“So you would leave her, as well?”
“If she wishes it.” Even if it meant tearing his own heart out, he would rather spend an eternity without her than see her hurt again. “I won’t blame her if she refuses me, but I’ll always love her.”
Lord Dorchester sighed.
Matthew braced for the final denial.
“Very well. I’ll speak to the Archbishop.”
Matthew’s gaze shot to him. His immediate thought spilled out of him. “Why?”
Lord Dorchester raised a brow.
“I wish to keep my daughter safe and happy. If that is in Lincolnshire as your wife, then you may marry her,” Lord Dorchester said. “I’m certain Jasmine will agree.”
“Thank you.” Matthew took a shuddering breath and buried his head in his hands. “I hope you’re right.”
Lord Dorchester placed a hand on his shoulder, holding it there until Matthew lifted his eyes.
“The lesson is in controlling your temper, and not letting it dictate your actions. I married a high-spirited woman—you must be rational, because she won’t be.
I hold you to a higher standard because I know you can reach it.
You’re a good man, Matthew.” Lord Dorchester offered him a soft smile.
“You have my blessing to marry my daughter.”
“I’ll be worthy of her, I swear it.”
“I know. And as far as what to do next—we wait for Jasmine to wake up.” Lord Dorchester’s expression hardened. “And we develop a plan for Duke Kendall.”