Chapter 21

Eleanor was in danger of drifting off into a contented sleep when Jasper’s deep voice rumbled beneath her ear. “Isn’t this nice? We’ve managed to go an entire half hour without bickering.”

Eleanor smiled against his shoulder. “A minor miracle, to be sure. Luckily for you, I am too gracious to point out that a certain party was the instigator of said bickering.”

She felt as well as heard him chuckle. “Prepare to be shocked, Miss Weatherby.”

“Shouldn’t you call me Eleanor, considering our current state of undress?”

“Probably, but there’s something appealing about the way Miss Weatherby rolls off the tongue, especially when you’re being waspish.”

She poked him in the ribs. “I, waspish? I was merely returning the treatment I received in kind.”

He chuckled. “And that is what is going to shock you, because I agree. I was the boorish one. I made assumptions about your sister that were, in retrospect, unfair.”

Eleanor propped her head up on her hand, scarcely able to countenance what she was hearing. “Then… you are no longer opposed to a potential match between your brother and my sister?”

“I still don’t like it,” he said in a clipped voice. “Not because of any perceived failing on your sister’s part. Only because their acquaintance has been too short.” He sighed, looking uneasy. “But I will acknowledge that your sister does not appear to be the ruthless fortune huntress I first assumed her to be.”

Eleanor snorted, laying her head back on his shoulder. “Pippa is about as ruthless as one of the kittens. Less so, actually. The kittens have claws.” She smoothed her palm across his muscular chest. “You’re the one who seems to have a taste for ruthless women.”

“You’re not ruthless,” he said immediately.

“I absolutely am. I’ve had no choice. Someone had to make sure my sisters were taken care of, and believe me, it wasn’t going to be my father.”

“Pippa was telling me about that. If you will forgive my saying so, your father sounds deplorable.”

“He really is,” Eleanor mused, taking no offense. “Oh, the stories I could tell you. They would turn your stomach.”

“I felt humbled when Pippa told me what you four have been through. I realized our situations are more similar than I’d thought.”

“Similar?” Eleanor laughed, incredulous. “How is the situation of one of the richest dukes in England akin to that of four penniless wallflowers?”

“That’s fair,” he said quickly. “What I meant was, my father and stepmother died when I was sixteen and Felix nine.”

“Ah.” Eleanor understood in an instant. “And so it fell to you to look after your brother when you were not yet grown yourself.”

“Precisely. I felt like such an idiot when I found out about your situation. Because nobody knows what that’s like. And then I met the one person who does understand, and I managed to make an enemy of you.”

“Are we still enemies?” Eleanor yawned. She was feeling extremely comfortable lying naked with Jasper. Possibly too comfortable. She couldn’t allow herself to fall asleep in his arms. The chances of their being caught together were too high. “We have a funny way of showing it.”

“I’m not sure what we are,” Jasper said sleepily.

“Well, the house party only lasts for another ten days. I don’t know that we need to worry about it overly much.”

“Mmm,” he agreed.

They lay there in companionable silence for a while. When Eleanor caught herself nodding off for the third time, she sighed. “I’d probably better get back to the house before I drift off.”

Jasper grunted. “I suppose you’re right.”

They quickly dressed, then packed up the things Jasper had brought from the house.

Jasper whistled for the dogs, but only Beatrice trotted to his side. “Where’s Benedick, old girl?”

Beatrice glanced over her shoulder and whimpered.

They each took a lantern and followed Beatrice twenty paces into the trees. There they found Benedick lying in the underbrush and whining piteously.

“What is it, old boy?” Jasper asked, starting to kneel beside his dog.

Eleanor grabbed his shoulder. “Jasper! Watch out!” She raised her lantern, illuminating a stinging nettle plant at his feet.

Jasper cursed, then came around to Benedick’s other side. “Is this what you’ve stepped in, old boy?” He knelt down and began inspecting the big dog all over. “I believe he’s been stung on three out of his four paws. All the nettles are out, though. Come on, Benedick. Can you stand?”

Benedick lumbered to his feet, then immediately plopped back onto the ground. He made a woeful sound.

“Should we go back to the house?” Eleanor asked. “Perhaps we could find a wheelbarrow.”

Jasper shook his head. “A wheelbarrow would only get mired in this mud. I’m going to have to carry him.”

“Carry him!” Eleanor exclaimed. “But he has to weigh…”

“More than two hundred pounds,” Jasper supplied. “There’s nothing for it, though. The only way over is through. Come here, you big galoot.”

Eleanor watched as Jasper attempted to lift his giant dog. Honestly, he made a better effort of it than she would have thought. He got the mastiff up to the level of his stomach, his cheeks turning scarlet with exertion, before sinking back down to the muddy ground.

He muttered a curse, breathing hard.

Eleanor set her lantern down and grabbed Benedick’s muddy haunches. “Here, you take his front half, and I’ll take his feet. I came out here without a lantern. We can make it back to the house by moonlight.”

Jasper’s gaze snapped to her. “Did you just offer to help me carry my muddy dog back to the house?”

Eleanor looked up, surprised by his tone. “Of course. Not that I’d stand a chance of lifting him alone, but perhaps together we can manage.”

He was staring at her as if she’d taken leave of her senses. “There is not another woman in my acquaintance who would have offered to do that,” he said slowly.

Eleanor felt her cheeks flush. Perfect. She had brought into sharp relief just how burly and unfeminine she was.

She drew herself up. She refused to feel insulted by the likes of Jasper St. James. “Well, then what do you propose?”

He was still staring at her, his expression inscrutable. “I think,” he said slowly, “I can manage him, if I can just get him up over my shoulders. If you can help me get him into position, I will attempt to do the rest.”

“Fine,” Eleanor muttered.

They had a rough go of it. It took three tries, and Eleanor didn’t understand how Jasper didn’t buckle under Benedick’s weight. She hadn’t appreciated just how massive the big dog was until she was trying to shove his rump up onto Jasper’s shoulder.

But they eventually managed to drape him around Jasper’s neck. Eleanor gathered up the remnants of the picnic and they set off for the house.

They didn’t speak as they made their way along the path. Which was perhaps unsurprising—Jasper was laboring with sixteen stone of dog wrapped around his shoulders. Yet even though there was a reasonable explanation for his silence, Eleanor couldn’t help but wonder if Jasper’s enthusiasm had also been dampened by her highly unladylike offer to help him carry his dog.

Not that it much mattered. In another ten days, the house party would end, and she would never see Jasper St. James again. Of course, she would be disappointed if it turned out she had ruined everything. But she had already gained more from their acquaintance than she would have ever dreamed possible. She would try to be grateful rather than bitter.

At one point, his foot slipped in the mud and he started to overbalance. Dropping the blankets, Eleanor put both of her hands on Benedick’s rump and pushed as hard as she could, and Jasper just managed to keep his feet. Once again, he stared at her, that inscrutable expression on his face.

Eleanor averted her gaze and began gathering up the blankets and cushions. “We should keep moving. The less time you have to bear Benedick’s full weight, the better.”

When they reached the formal gardens, Eleanor stashed the blanket and baskets behind a hedge. “Will you be all right from here?”

“I can manage.”

“Good.” Eleanor wrung her hands as she stared at his boots. Goodness, but leave taking was an awkward business. “Well, uh—”

“Will you come to my room tomorrow night?” Jasper asked abruptly.

Eleanor looked up, startled. He was regarding her with that expression he’d been using the last quarter hour, the one she couldn’t read.

Well, at least she hadn’t put him off entirely. “Y-yes,” she stammered. “I would like that. Er… Good night.”

She spun on her heel and prepared to sneak back into the house. Had she thought she would feel less anxious at the conclusion of her midnight rendezvous with Jasper?

It appeared that her state of nervous anticipation would be lasting for at least another twenty-four hours.