Chapter 19
CHAPTER 19
A bewildering combination of emotions rushed through Jasper as he observed the interaction between Maria and Thomas. With every kiss, every stroke to the man’s skin and soothing word from her lips, Jasper’s body grew increasingly turbulent.
He’d come to the conclusion that the man was Maria’s brother—the very one that their parents had disavowed and refused to even speak of. Evidently, he and Maria had remained close.
And yet, even that assumed knowledge didn’t assuage the… Christ , the jealousy and abhorrent, boorish possessiveness that had taken hold of him. The familial affection that she shared with her brother didn’t impact how she might feel about Jasper, and yet… And yet, he selfishly wanted to keep her all to himself.
He ran a hand over his face and pinched the bridge of his nose before returning his attention to the events unfolding in the cheerful yellow-and-white bedchamber from his position against the wall.
“I came— grunt, grunt —because when I’d returned— grunt, click-click, grunt —from my walk to the haber— grunt —dashery, our door was ajar.”
A small gasp escaped Maria. “I told you of the danger, Thomas! My costume was not so important as all that.”
His throat bobbed once more, and he licked his lips. “I bolted the door when I left.”
Her horrified gaze met Jasper’s, then swung around to Miss Huntsbury. “Francis.”
A tremor of cold dread travelled down his spine just as the realization dawned that Mr. Roberts’ grunts were not due to pain. Had he a speech impediment? Or, perhaps he hit his head a great deal harder than… No . That couldn’t be it, at all. If it was something new, surely Maria would have shown concern. Indeed, the man must always have difficulty with speech.
“But why would he taunt Thomas before following him here and then shooting him?” Maria asked. “If Francis had wanted to kill him, would he not have done so at the apartments?”
“He didn’t want to kill him,” Jasper realized aloud, pushing off against the wall. “He wanted to frighten Mr. Roberts into leading him here.”
The emotions playing over Maria’s features tugged at something deep inside Jasper. He wanted to wrap her in his arms and offer comfort, to spread kisses along her puckered brow and tight lips, to ease her disquiet. It was distinctly unnerving, and he was at sixes and sevens over how to react.
* * *
Fear, anger, and confusion crashed through Maria’s chest. “Surely he would already know of these offices. He seems to follow us often; I do not see how it would be possible for him not to have seen it before.”
Jasper shrugged one shoulder. “Perhaps it was a message to you, then, letting you know that he knows where you are and how to hurt you.”
It seemed devious enough for the bastard.
“I’m— grunt— sorry, Maria,” Thomas said softly, shifting his prostrate position on the bed.
She leaned forward and gripped his hand tighter. “Please, do not?—”
“I ought to— click, grunt— have been more cautious— grunt— when I left.” He gestured wildly with his other hand. “I hate the— grunt, grunt —thought of putting you in danger. I brought your— click, click-click —costume and the— grunt —items from the haberdashery, but— grunt, grunt —I haven’t repaired it yet. If you— click, grunt —give me the items, I sh-sh-sh— grunt, grunt —shall begin now.”
Concern rippled through her abdomen. “You must rest, dearest.”
A guttural groan, followed by Jasper’s mumbled apology, came from behind her, but she ignored it.
Thomas shook his head vehemently against his pillow. “If— click —Francis remains a— grunt —threat, then I will make sure that your— grunt, grunt —costume is prepared for the— click —assignment.”
Maria sighed as a mixture of familial affection and worry filled her. “Very well. I shall arrange for a room at an inn?—”
“There is no need for that,” Grace cut in. “Mr. Roberts is welcome to stay here while Mr. Sinclair poses a threat. In fact, I insist on it.”
“Thank you, Miss Huntsbury,” Thomas breathed. “I am— grunt, click —very grateful.”
Grace smiled at him, then turned her gaze on Maria. “You oughtn’t return to your apartments, either. Lord knows what the madman will do if he finds you alone once more.”
Maria nodded, pulling her lips between her teeth and clamping down. She wouldn’t protest, but surely, if she knew Maria’s reasoning, Grace would understand her need to return home. Her writing notes and current manuscript were there, as well as her entire wardrobe for Mr. Duncan Robertson. The suit of clothes that she currently wore was all but entirely ruined, soaked in filth from the streets of London and stained with her brother’s blood; there was no hope for it.
If she could but retrieve a mere satchel full of items, Maria could accept Grace’s orders without protest and not return to her apartments until after Francis was gone. It wouldn’t be difficult to do.
“How do you feel about returning to the duke’s home this evening, Maria?” Grace asked. “As long as His Grace is amenable?”
Jasper blinked, then turned his heated gaze on Maria. “Of course. I am at your disposal.”
“I shall find a suitable excuse, I’m sure,” Maria added.
“Excellent. Might I count on you, as well, Heather? Juliana?” At their nods, Grace continued, “Maria is correct: we cannot remain idle while Francis continues his assault. You will, therefore, all be armed and prepared for his inevitable arrival. We will utilize Harris and his men as decoys belowstairs and through the stables and gardens. If you are able, incapacitate him, bind his wrists behind his back, and then summon me. I shall be stationed with Harris and his men—though out of sight. After what occurred last night, we cannot take any risks.”
“It would be wise to question Lady Cartwright’s staff,” Maria mused. “See if anyone could account for her activities in the past weeks. Mayhap she visited Francis in his hidden location.”
Grace nodded. “A sound supposition, Maria. I spoke with Harris, and he intends to arrange inquiries with the staff. Though I daresay the baron will put a halt to the questioning once he reaches town—no doubt under the belief that his wife’s indiscretion will be kept from the papers.”
“It shan’t,” Maria assured them. “If the staff have no inducement to remain silent, the news will spread swiftly.
“I’ve been corresponding with the magistrate’s secretary,” she continued, “with the intention to investigate how Francis escaped the noose. There must be someone among the guard who was capable of making the switch, and unless we find a remedy, he will repeat his flight.”
“An excellent point, Maria,” Grace put in. “Have you established a solid footing with the woman?”
Maria grimaced. “We are building trust, and it is taking longer than I’d hoped. I have yet to receive a response to my most recent missive, but I daresay I ought to request she redirect it here, for I shan’t be at my apartments.” She sighed. “Let us hope she will have answers to my queries.”
* * *
As the others rose to quit the room, so did Jasper, lingering behind so that he might offer Maria a ride home.
Maria bent to press a kiss to her brother’s cheek. “Our plan is in place, and as much as I detest the thought of leaving your side, dear brother, I must take my leave of you now.”
“Not to worry. I— grunt —have much to occupy me.” The man smiled, gesturing to the maid’s costume and sewing implements clutched in his hands. “And be sure to burn those ghastly, soiled clothes now that you’ve changed back into your frock.”
Maria laughed. “I shall.”
With a glance toward Jasper, she led the way from the room. Jasper nodded at the man in the bed before following.
“Might I— click —have a word with— grunt, grunt —you before you leave, Your Grace?”
Jasper watched Maria’s retreating form disappear around the far corner of the corridor, then turned toward Mr. Roberts.
Mr. Roberts sat with his back braced with pillows against the bed’s headboard, his hands moving swiftly with each stitch he made.
Jasper cleared his throat. “You wished to speak with me, Mr. Roberts?”
The man winced. “Thomas, please. Grunt . I do not answer to my pater’s name. C-c-c— click —close the door, if you— grunt —would, please.”
With apprehension crawling over his skin, Jasper closed the bedchamber door and sat hesitantly at Thomas’ bedside.
Countless questions ran through his mind. Why had Maria lied about her brother’s place in her apartments in Cheapside? Her adoration for the man was plain to see, and yet she’d mentioned naught to Jasper in the many years of their acquaintance—even after their engagement. Was his speech impediment the reason for his withdrawal from society, the reason for his estrangement from his parents?
In observing Thomas’ discussion with Maria, it was obvious he was in full possession of his faculties, and yet there was so much secrecy.
“My sister has— grunt —explained your agreement— grunt, click —to me: you’ve both decided on a f-f— grunt —false engagement as an excuse to spend time— click, click —finding your cousin. But,” he continued, before Jasper could correct him, “I would like to know your— grunt, click, grunt —true intentions with her.”
The man paused in his stitching to level Jasper with a meaningful stare, his soft grunts and clicks the only sound in the room, aside from the rush of blood in Jasper’s ears.
Nervous anger began to bloom just behind his sternum. He’d intended to marry Maria. Could he have misunderstood?
A quiver of unease danced along his spine. It bothered him that Maria believed him capable of jilting her after all that they had endured together. But…mayhap a marriage was not what she truly desired.
His thoughts raced, attempting to replay his offer of marriage—and her acceptance—in his mind’s eye. Had she been enthusiastic, or did she feel obliged to accept? And— hell —they’d been intimate! Had he trapped her in an engagement against her wishes?
He cleared his throat, and opened his mouth to reply with Lord knew what, when Thomas cut in.
“What would you— grunt —do, for example, if a child should result from— click, click, grunt —your intimacies last night? Would you make g-g— click —good on your proposal, and save her from ruination?”
The words “of course” hovered on his tongue, but his brain and heart had all but entirely stopped. A child . Hope began to bloom in his chest, but the memory of Thomas’ previous words squashed it. False engagement … Jasper had wanted a marriage, and a child wouldn’t change that. But what of Maria? If she didn’t believe them to be truly affianced , a child mightn’t alter her opinion. He would have to convince her of his sincerity—regardless of whether their tryst resulted in pregnancy.
His pulse rushed in his ears, and he was vaguely aware of Thomas speaking, but it didn’t reach him.
A child .
His heart tripped, then began a steady staccato beat against his ribs.
She was trapped. He’d trapped her in an untenable situation, just as surely as he had trapped Juliana in her engagement to the viscount before she’d fled. Christ , what if Maria fled?
Of course she would. She was better than he could ever hope to be. Indeed, he was entirely unworthy of her admiration…which was why he’d vowed to make himself worthy.
Jasper took a steadying breath and attempted to slow his pulse. He couldn’t allow Maria to flee without first knowing his true intentions. If flight was her intent, he could not stop her, but at least he could provide her with the truth. His truth.
“… I can understand why Maria— click —has such conflicting feelings— grunt, grunt —about you,” Thomas said thoughtfully, returning to his sewing, one eyebrow raised in challenge.
Jasper blinked. “Maria said that?”
Thomas eyed him with a tilt to his head, his gaze assessing. “She did.”
“Is that why she—” Is that why she wants me to jilt her? Jasper leaned closer, placing his elbows upon his knees. “What do you mean by conflicting feelings?”
The man grimaced and waggled his shoulder before returning his attention to Jasper. “Well, because you— grunt— made that wager and broke her h-h— click— heart ten years hence, I very much— grunt, grunt, click —doubt that she will ever fully trust any— grunt— man. Most particularly you. I can?—”
“Just a moment,” Jasper interjected, his pulse tripping once more. “ What wager ten years ago? And her h-heart?” he rubbed a hand over his face, then pinched the bridge of his nose. “I’m so confused.”
“Of course— grunt —you are.” Thomas dropped his sewing to his lap and sighed, a reproachful frown pinching his brows. “Your wager with Billingsly at?—”
“ Christ ,” Jasper cursed with feeling. “That is, I… Goddamn it, I turned the bastard down! He wanted me to break a woman’s heart, and I couldn’t do it. The man then attempted to offer the wager to another of our acquaintances nearby, and I wouldn’t stand for it. I called the man a cad, and approached the nearest… Hell .” A nervous, cold sweat began between his shoulder blades, and he could feel the colour drain from his cheeks. “Maria was the nearest woman. She heard Billingsly’s wager.”
* * *
“Maria!”
Maria paused at the sound of Jasper’s voice. She turned away from the Bow Street offices’ front door to eye him trotting down the main staircase.
“Maria,” he breathed as he reached the bottom. “Might I have a word before you take your leave?”
Her stomach gave a swoop, and she nodded.
They strode into the corridor and toward their room reserved for storing records. It was sparse at the moment, with only two tall tables—meant for use while standing—and the shelves that lined each wall.
Cognizant of their lack of privacy, Maria entered and turned to face him.
“I…” He cleared his throat. “I just spoke with your brother, and knew that I could not wait until this evening to clarify something important.”
Another wobble rippled in her abdomen, and her heart gave a hard thump.
“Indeed?” she croaked.
His gaze caught hers, regret lining his features. “The wager with Billingsly…”
“Oh,” she breathed, waving a hand through the air in dismissal, despite the sharp pang of hurt in her chest. “It’s quite all right. It was ten years ago.”
“It’s not all right,” Jasper asserted. “I cannot countenance your not knowing the truth, Maria. I admit that I joined in the laughter at the man’s crude jokes, which only served to encourage his behaviour. But Billingsly was a cad for proposing the wager from the first, and I told him so that night. I sought your hand in a waltz not to satisfy the wager, but because I wished to dance— and to prove to the blighter that not all wallflowers are undesirable.”
Hope swelled in Maria’s chest as Jasper spoke, but her fear smothered it. Jasper mightn’t have behaved the scoundrel years ago, but that did not assuage her trepidation for their current arrangement. While ten years was far too long to hold resentment or pain over his behaviour at that ball, hearing the truth was akin to the relief of a balm on a very old wound. It wasn’t, however, what she’d hoped to hear in that moment.
Jasper was still a duke who would not only benefit from, but also likely desire, a fashionable marriage to a more ordinary woman. And her heart— if she gave it to him—could not withstand that pain.
“We ought never to have deigned such a discussion at all, never mind in the presence of others,” he continued. “I am profoundly regretful for the hurt it caused you.”
“Thank you, Jasper,” she whispered.
“Additionally, I?—”
“Oh!” One of their new runner recruits stilled in the doorway, her eyes wide as her gaze flicked between them. “My apologies.”
“It’s quite all right,” Maria assured her, even as disappointment thudded in her chest. “We’ve concluded our discussion; you may have the room.”
This was decidedly not the time to discuss such matters. Indeed, they had a devil to capture and must remain focused.
* * *
The braised pigeon pie sat like a stone in Maria’s stomach as her family stared at her from their seats around the dining table. The air was thick and warm, heated by both the fire in the hearth and the afternoon sun shining in through the large wall of windows. It carried the rich, savoury scent of the meat pie and was heavy with expectations that she could not fulfil.
She swallowed the suddenly flavourless food. “I cannot be certain when His Grace will wish to begin preparations, Mother. We’ve only just announced our engagement, as you saw in the paper this morning. Surely we have some time. He has not yet posted the banns. And I do not wish for so much pageantry.”
Her father’s face disappeared once more behind his newspaper.
“I’ll not have our name slandered, Maria.” The woman’s face blotched with outrage, her scowl a familiar one. “You will marry the Duke of Derby expediently and with the great fanfare due to your future station. I’ve arranged all of our appointments, beginning tomorrow afternoon, when we shall visit the modiste to have you fitted for your wedding dress.”
“Shall I get a new dress for the wedding, Mama?” Caroline bounced in her seat, her dark blonde ringlets jiggling in her excitement.
“But of course,” Mrs. Roberts purred.
Augusta toyed with the sleeve of her day dress and offered a pretty pout. “And me, Mama? Shall I get a new dress, as well?”
Their mother smiled indulgently at her second eldest. “We all shall. Your sister is to marry a duke, after all!”
“What of stays, petticoats, and chemise?” Caroline asked hopefully.
“Oh! Gloves and bonnet?” Augusta added.
Mrs. Roberts clasped her hands together at her flushed chest. “Of course! We cannot appear to be paupers. I’m certain that Maria will repay us generously from her stipend.”
Why had Maria not seen that coming? Naturally, her mother would assume that Maria’s advantageous marriage would mean additional funds for her family. But that didn’t normally come from the daughter in question.
Her mother’s eyes gleamed with avarice, and Maria’s gut twisted. This would be a regular occurrence, no doubt, her family expecting funds—she could see it clearly in their smirking lips and flushed cheeks.
“I remain astonished that a duke would pay any mind to Maria. She’s entirely too plain.” Caroline adjusted her bodice.
“Indeed,” Augusta replied. “There are many handsome ladies among the ton , and even more with superior breeding. I cannot fathom his reasoning.”
Maria suppressed a sigh, an ache building in her chest. Not only was her appetite gone, but the food that she’d consumed was threatening to resurface.
“Please excuse me,” she muttered.
Her sisters watched her with narrowed eyes.
“Where do you think you’re going, Maria?” her mother asked. “We have far too much to accomplish?—”
“His Grace is taking me for a drive—with Heather as chaperone—before we attend the theatre again this evening. I must rest.”