Chapter Eight
The clink of silverware and the quiet murmur of the footman clearing dishes was the only sound in the dining room of Roselawn Manor.
Jasper had just returned from a morning of correspondence and mild headaches induced by wedding logistics.
Opposite him sat his younger sister, Charlotte, in unnaturally high spirits, swirling her spoon in her soup with barely restrained glee.
"Jasper," she said suddenly, her voice feather-light, "has Philip spoken to you yet?"
He looked up from his plate, brow furrowed. "Philip?"
"Yes, Philip!" she repeated, eyes shining. "Philip Browning."
Jasper blinked. "Abigail's brother?"
"Of course," Charlotte giggled, glancing around as if expecting a hidden audience. "He was going to speak to you about seeking my hand. We've been... involved."
Jasper stared at her, stunned. "Charlotte... Philip is engaged. To Lady Sophia Marlow. Their banns have been read. The wedding is a month away."
Charlotte waved her hand dismissively. "That's all a matter of duty. He told me himself — while I was in London. He regrets that engagement entirely. It was a match pressed upon him by Sophia's father, and he—" she paused for dramatic effect, "—has been planning to dissolve it."
Jasper set his fork down slowly. "When exactly did this supposed romance begin?"
"I stayed with Eliza Huntingdon and her family, you remember.
While in London Philip and I met a few times — quite by accident at first." She pressed a hand to her chest. "He was at a family estate not far from Sophia's.
Oh, Jasper, it was all so secret and sweet.
He said he couldn't breathe around Sophia, but with me. .. he felt free."
Charlotte's eyes fluttered, her tone drifting into a dream-like recounting. "And then, once he spoke of marriage — well, it felt only right... one evening... when the moon was full and the air thick with lilac..." She trailed off, a coy smile tugging at her lips.
Jasper's heart dropped into his stomach. "You didn't—"
"He loves me," Charlotte said simply. Her hand moved to cradle her lower abdomen. "I thought it best not to tell you until I was sure, but... my courses haven't come. It's been over a month."
The silence that followed was heavy. Jasper's chair scraped the floor as he stood abruptly.
"I see," he said, voice tightly restrained. "Excuse me."
***
Later that afternoon, Jasper found himself in the familiar comfort of Nathaniel Browning's study at Lyndhurst Manor. The Duke of Everly poured a measure of brandy and handed it to him; his brow knit in concern.
"I appreciate you coming directly to me," the duke said. "But I must admit, I find myself... at a loss. Philip hasn't said a word about Charlotte, and as of this morning, Sophia and her father were still speaking fondly of wedding menus and floral garlands."
"She claims it was done in secret," Jasper muttered, barely touching the glass in his hand. "That Philip intended to call off the engagement and... compromised her in the meantime."
Nathaniel's expression hardened. "That would be a serious matter. One I cannot imagine Philip engaging in without consequence."
"Nor can I," Jasper said quietly. "But I had to bring it to you. She's implying she's with child."
Nathaniel didn't respond, merely reached for the bell pull and summoned a footman. "Send for Lord Philip at once."
Philip Browning entered the study a few minutes later, still dressed from his ride, breeches faintly dusted at the knees.
"Father? Jasper?" He glanced between them, brow furrowing. "Is something the matter?"
Jasper exhaled. "Charlotte has made a claim. She says you met with her in London. That you professed your love, planned to end your engagement to Lady Sophia... that you were intimate — and that the two of you intended to marry. She now believes she's with child."
Philip stared at him, then let out a short, incredulous laugh. "You're serious? That's what she's saying?"
"She told me directly," Jasper said heavily.
Philip stepped back, pacing a tight line before the hearth. "I never touched your sister. Beyond the barest pleasantries, I hardly spoke to her. This is complete nonsense."
"She claims it happened while she was in London," Nathaniel added cautiously. "You were staying at Bromwell House then — that's near Sophia's family estate, isn't it?"
"It is. And I spent nearly every day with Sophia — we rode, dined with her father, attended functions together, and began planning our wedding and engagement party. I hadn't seen Charlotte since the end of the Season — not until yesterday at the party."
He turned to Jasper. "You remember how she was this Season. She tried to be subtle, but she kept throwing herself in my path. Asked me to dance at nearly every ball. You even jested about it once."
Jasper's brow furrowed. He had said something.
"I remember," he said quietly.
"She was relentless," Philip went on, his voice tight.
"Once I began courting Sophia, she would glare at her anytime we were at the same event.
She's been jealous — of Sophia, of Abigail, of anyone whose future looks brighter than hers.
If she's claiming I compromised her, she's either desperate, delusional, or both. "
Nathaniel sank into a chair. "You believe she's trying to trap you?"
"Without question. Young ladies have tried before, Father.
And Charlotte..." He looked Jasper in the eye "You know how she is.
You've heard how she speaks to others...
even to Abigail — the snide remarks, the backhanded compliments.
You even asked why Abigail keeps such a 'friend' when her words are so cruel. "
Jasper's lips parted as memories surfaced — Charlotte's biting comment about Abigail's 'lack of polish,' her thinly veiled insults masked as concern. The pieces slid into place with an awful clarity.
"I had to ask," Jasper said quietly, after a long pause. "I needed to hear it from you."
Philip's voice cooled. "You've known me for years, Jasper. I would never seduce a woman in secret and then abandon her—least of all your sister. I have too much respect for you to ever consider such a thing. I understand why you felt the need to ask... but I need you to believe me."
Jasper gave a slow nod. "I do. Forgive me."
He stood. "I'll see myself out."
***
Later, having returned to Roselawn Manor, Jasper passed the drawing room. Charlotte looked up from the settee, her hand still resting on her lower abdomen, hope flickering in her voice. "Well? When do we begin making plans?"
Jasper continued walking without pause, heading for the stairs.
Frowning, Charlotte rose and followed after him, her skirts whispering across the floor.
"Jasper?" she called softly as he placed a hand on the banister.
He paused on the first step.
"Philip denies everything. And I believe him.
He has witnesses — I'm certain if I asked the Earl of Blackwell, he would confirm that Philip spent most of his time while at Bromwell House with Sophia and the Earl himself.
And Philip never mentioned anything to his father about ending the engagement. What else am I supposed to think?"
Charlotte blinked. "You believe him? Over your own sister?"
"I think," Jasper said carefully, "that you're mistaken. Or... you've convinced yourself of something that never truly was. I don't know which. But this fantasy ends here."
Her voice trembled with rising fury. "You think I'm lying?"
"I think you're unhappy," he replied quietly. "And I am sorry for that. But you will not ruin a man's future because of your bitterness. Nor will I allow you to sabotage mine."
He looked at her — not with anger, but pity. "There will be another season. You'll have another chance. But not like this."
Then he turned and ascended the stairs, leaving her standing alone, hand pressed to her chest, the silence behind him heavy as stone.