Chapter 16

CHAPTER 16

“Oh, Jasper, why the long face? You’ve done nothing but mope around for the past three days. Why are you so miserable?” Penelope said, setting aside her embroidery and looking pointedly at Jasper, who was half lying on a chair by the window, lost in thought.

The catalyst for her words had been a deep sigh he had let out, for no other reason than the melancholy hanging over him. He was miserable, even as he reminded himself he had done the right thing in breaking off his relationship with Sophia. It had all gotten out of hand, and having come so close to disaster, Jasper was certain he had made the right decision, even as it pained him to admit it.

“Why do you think?” he asked, and his sister looked at him and shook her head.

“But you don’t need to feel like this, Jasper. You broke it off with Sophia. Mother’s disappointed, of course, and so am I… but I understand why you did it,” she said.

Jasper had said nothing to his sister about the ruse. But the more he had thought about it, the more he came to realize it had been no ruse at all. Not for him, at least. At first, he had thought nothing of Sophia’s arrival, but on the night she had come to him, begging him to pretend he was courting her, he had seen her in a different light. In their following encounters, Jasper had come to see Sophia as very different to the other women he knew – different by virtue of her wit, her intelligence, her charm, her kindness, her beauty…

“Do you? Because I’m not sure I do,” Jasper replied.

He was regretting the haste of his decision – the swift dismissal with which he had put an end to Sophia’s hopes. He had made her a promise, and now he had broken that promise out of fear for his own good. But there was no proof of what Henry had told him, only the suspicion he had cast. Jasper wanted to believe the sincerity of Sophia’s words, even as he remained wary of Ethan’s motives.

“You told me so yourself – she and Ethan were working together to defraud you,” Penelope said, but Jasper shook his head.

“I never said I blamed Sophia. It’s her cousin I’m wary of. He’s the one who’s using her against… well, me, Henry… He wants his business deal, and he’s more than willing to use his own cousin to get it. She’s a pawn in his game,” Jasper replied, for he was not about to blame Sophia entirely.

The more he thought about it, the less he wanted to. He had been angry, imagining she had deliberately set out to manipulate him. But the more he thought about it, the more convinced he was that she, too, was being manipulated. It was Ethan who was to blame – first forcing her into a marriage with Henry, and then seeking to further his own agenda by making a similar arrangement with Jasper himself.

“Will she marry Henry?” Penelope asked, and Jasper shrugged.

“I don’t know. I doubt she’ll have a choice if Ethan has anything to do with it. He’s probably already been to see her,” Jasper replied.

He knew his cousin would waste no time in making advances. Henry had been livid at the sight of Jasper and Sophia together and had made his own intentions very clear. He seemed not to care how he was being played – for Henry was surely aware of Ethan’s intentions towards him. He wanted the prize, and the prize was Sophia…

“Well, you’re better off without her – if it’s really true, that is,” Penelope said, taking up her embroidery again.

But Jasper shook his head. He missed Sophia terribly. It was a strange sensation – a longing for her company, a sorrow at their parting. He felt guilty for what he had done, knowing it was entirely his fault for having acted on the immediacy of his cousin’s words.

“Yes… but I’m just not sure…” Jasper said, and his sister sighed.

“Do you know what your problem is, Jasper?” she said, and Jasper looked at her in surprise. It was not like Penelope to speak to him in such direct terms.

“I… what do you mean?” he asked, and Penelope sighed.

“If Father was too reckless – which he was – then you’re too cautious. You see danger everywhere you look. Perhaps Sophia is in league with her cousin, or perhaps she isn’t. But what matters is how you feel. I’d say you’re better off without her, but I don’t know your feelings. I don’t feel as you do. I thought her to be a delight – until you told me about your suspicions. But still… it might not be true. She might not be what Henry says she is. You’ve erred on the side of caution, and I understand why. Father lost everything, and you’ve had to work for every penny. But in matters of the heart, aren’t your feelings worth a risk?” she asked.

Jasper sighed. His sister was right. All too often, it was caution he sided with, and certainly never outright risk. He had worked too hard to lose what he had gained. But when it came to his own feelings – to the possibility of romance – Jasper had exercised the same caution as in his financial affairs. He had never taken a risk. He had never loved and lost – until now. But it had all been so sudden, so unexpected, like a dream. Theirs had been no long-lasting love affair, and in that, Jasper wondered if he was not being foolish in believing too much in the possibility of what might have been.

“But what should I do?” he asked, and Penelope rolled her eyes.

“That’s for you to decide, not me. I don’t know what you should do, Jasper. It’s your heart, not mine. I’d be keen to know if Sophia was telling the truth. That’s where I’d begin,” she said, and Jasper nodded.

“The more I think about it, the more I think she was. I was too quick to believe Henry,” he said.

Penelope was silent for a moment, her brow furrowed.

“Henry… yes, I’d forgotten,” she said, and Jasper looked at her in surprise.

“Forgotten what?” he asked.

“I didn’t pay much attention at the time. But the other night, Sophia was asking me about you – about whether there had been other women in your past,” she said, and Jasper narrowed his eyes.

“And what did you say?” he asked, curious as to the thought of Sophia taking such an interest in his past.

“I told her no, but I’m sure she mentioned Henry – that he’d said something, about… knowing you well. I told her I knew you far better, and that there was no one like that,” Penelope replied.

His sister’s words made him think back to his conversation with Henry. His cousin had been adamant in his assertion of knowing just what Sophia’s – and Ehan’s – intentions were. But what if it had all been a game? Henry had been livid at the sight of Jasper and Sophia together, and the more Jasper thought about it, the more it seemed obvious that there had been an attempt on his cousin’s part to drive a wedge between them.

“I’m grateful to you,” Jasper said, even as his mind was elsewhere.

He was thinking over his conversation with Henry, imagining a parallel one between Henry and Sophia. How easy it would have been to drive a wedge between them.

Jasper rose to his feet, spurred to take action, even as he was uncertain of what form such action would take.

“But what are you going to do?” Penelope asked, looking at Jasper curiously.

“I’m going to go to London. I think I owe Sophia an explanation,” Jasper said, his mind made up, and his resolve now firm.

“Ah, the Gibson ball. It’s always such a grand occasion, don’t you think, Sophia?” her mother asked, as she helped Sophia with her jewelry.

“Yes, I’m sure it is,” Sophia replied, glancing at her mother’s reflection in the looking glass.

“Oh, Sophia, you’re not going to spoil things, are you? Henry’s given you a second chance. Don’t ruin it,” her mother said, tutting and shaking her head.

Had Sophia wanted to “ruin” things, she could easily have done so. But resignation was chief amongst her feelings now – resignation at having no choice other than to marry Henry and push her true feelings aside. She knew there was no choice in the matter. A woman of her rank and class – any woman, for that matter – could not survive without a husband, and Ethan had made his intention to marry her off very clear. If it was not Henry, it would be someone else – someone else for whom her feelings were not the same as they were for Jasper. She felt foolish for pining over him, but try as she might, she could not rid herself of the feelings she had for him – feelings only growing stronger, not less.

“But I didn’t want him to give me a second chance. I wanted him to forget the whole thing,” Sophia said as tears welled up in her eyes.

Her mother gave her a sympathetic look, but Sophia knew it was a false sympathy, one she would not act on, other to bluster her way through and arrive at the same conclusion.

“Well… he hasn’t, Sophia. You’re going to marry him, and that’s that,” she said, waving her hand dismissively.

Sophia groaned. It was always the same. Her mother would not stand up for her. She would side with Ethan, and that would be that. Having finished getting ready, Sophia made her way slowly downstairs, finding her cousin and Henry laughing with one another in the drawing room.

“Ah, here she is, the belle of the ball,” Henry said, rising to his feet.

In all of their encounters since her return to London, Henry had been charming and acted with all the assumptions of a man certain of his position. He knew he was marrying Sophia, and this sense of arrogant certainty tainted all he said and did.

“Are you looking forward to the evening, Sophia?” Ethan asked, and Sophia shrugged.

She was not particularly looking forward to the Gibson ball. It would be like any other – whatever her mother said. Coupled with this was the possibility of seeing Jasper again. Sophia knew he was in London, and the thought of seeing him again, perhaps on the arm of another woman, made her nervous.

“I suppose so,” Sophia replied, and her mother tutted.

“You suppose so? Of course, you’re looking forward to it, Sophia. It’ll be a delightful evening. Come now, the carriage awaits,” she said, ushering Sophia out of the drawing room.

Henry and Ethan followed, and Sophia could hear the two of them discussing business as she and her mother climbed into the waiting carriage outside the front door.

“The cotton mills, it’s all to do with the cotton mills… I’m hoping we can still claim a share in it,” Henry was saying.

Sophia knew that her cousin and Henry were still working out the details of their business arrangement, but as for what those arrangements entailed, she did not know – or care. She, too, was part of such an arrangement – discussed as one would a cotton mill and made a part of their deal. She had come to realize it did not matter whether it was Henry, Jasper, or any other man her cousin might choose – the end was the same.

“I’m sure we can – and split the profits,” Ethan said, slapping Henry on the back.

They set off for the ball, and Sophia remained silent, staring out the carriage window as Ethan and Henry continued to discuss business. It was a beautiful evening, the sun still shining, lighting up the facades of houses they passed, and casting dappled shade on the trees growing in the parks and gardens along their route. But Sophia could summon little interest in the prospect of the ball and couldn’t be cheered by the summer evening. She felt miserable, and that misery was only set to continue.

“You do look ever so pretty, Sophia,” her mother said as the carriage pulled up outside the large house on Mayfair, where the ball was to be held.

Fashionably dressed men and women were streaming up the steps, a riot of color in frockcoats and flowing dresses.

“But for your eyes only, Henry,” Ethan said, glancing at Sophia with a pointed look.

“Oh, yes,” Henry replied, offering Sophia his arm.

They climbed down from the carriage, making their way arm in arm up the steps. Ethan escorted Sophia’s mother, and Henry and Sophia led the way, joining the throng of guests entering the large vestibule, where liveried footmen stood stiffly on either side of a pair of grand doors and the master of ceremonies was announcing the arrivals. Sophia was dreading this moment – the announcement would place her and Henry together. There would be no question of them being a couple, and the rest of the ton would soon know of the betrothal – as would Jasper, if he did not already.

“The Earl of Milton, the Dowager Countess of Milton, the Viscount Loweshire, and Lady Sophia Powell,” the master of ceremonies announced, and heads turned as fans opened and whispers were exchanged.

“I thought she got rid of him,” one woman said.

“Obviously not,” her companion replied, and Henry smiled, leading Sophia through the throng into the grand ballroom beyond.

Sophia tried to ignore the whispers, but she knew everyone was looking at her, just as Henry had wanted them to.

“Shall we have a glass of punch? Then we’ll dance,” Henry said, directing Sophia towards the refreshments table.

Sophia looked around her for any sign of Jasper, but she could see only a mass of dancers whirling and twirling in a waltz. There was no sign of the Duke, even as Sophia knew she should be relieved at his absence.

She did not want to see him, and yet she did want to see him, too. Those last moments they had spent together in his study had brought forth a myriad of feelings – anger, rejection, longing, desire, the realization of her growing love for him. It was all so confusing, and Sophia did not know how she would feel if, and when, she saw Jasper again.

“I don’t want to dance – not yet. I’m going to the powder room,” Sophia said, pulling away from Henry.

He narrowed his eyes, looking at her suspiciously. “We’ve only just arrived,” he said, but Sophia shook her head.

“Just a few moments, I won’t be long,” she said, before hurrying off through the throng.

Sophia did not know where she was going, or what her intentions were. But she knew she had to get away from Henry – if only for a few moments. Pushing her way through the crowd, Sophia came to a flight of stairs leading up to where she had ascertained the powder room was – a number of ladies gossiping together at the top.

“Look, there she is,” one of them whispered as Sophia passed them.

In the powder room, Sophia hid behind a large, ornate oriental screen, staring at herself in a mirror and wishing she could run away. She hated being the center of attention – all eyes on her because of her unexpected change of heart over Henry. He was crowing over his victory, wanting to be the center of attention, even as Sophia still had no desire to marry him. He had done nothing to ingratiate himself, nothing to make himself appear attractive. Sophia could not stand him, even as she knew she had no choice but to continue this fresh ruse.

Because that’s what it is – a ruse, a pretense. We’re all pretending everything’s all right. But it’s not.

She shook her head as she brushed a tear from her eye.

Behind the screen, she could hear several women talking about her, and as she emerged, they fell silent, blushing under her gaze.

“Congratulations on your betrothal, Lady Sophia,” one of them – a tall, thin woman with a pale, gaunt face – said.

“It’s hardly something to be congratulated about,” Sophia replied, leaving the powder room, and slamming the door behind her.

But as she came to the top of the stairs, Sophia saw the very object of her thoughts, her fear and fascination, standing below. Jasper was there, talking with Peter.

Sophia hid behind a nearby pillar, peering over the balcony at the top of the stairs, wondering if there really would be another woman on his arm…

“I don’t know what I’m doing here, really. It’s all so… Oh, am I being foolish, Peter?” Jasper asked, looking around the ballroom for any sign of Sophia.

Peter looked at him and smiled. “I must say, I was rather surprised when you suggested coming up to London for the rest of the Season.”

They had arrived at the ball a few moments earlier, and Jasper had made discreet inquiries of the master of ceremonies, discovering Sophia, Henry, Ethan, and Sophia’s mother had arrived a short while ago. Jasper did not know why he had come to the Gibson ball that evening. He wanted to see Sophia, and yet he did not know what he would say to her if he did.

Would he apologize to her? Would he demand an explanation of her? He was still in two minds, doubtful as to whether his cousin was telling the truth, or if Sophia herself was the victim of false accusations.

“I’m being foolish, I know. It’s just… well… there’s something different about her, Peter. I can’t put my finger on it. She’s not like other women. At the house party, I barely gave her a second glance at first, but then… I can’t just give her up,” Jasper replied.

In this, at least, he was resolved. The manner in which they had parted ways had been wrong. Jasper knew he had acted rashly, angered by Henry’s words, and ready to dismiss Sophia without allowing her the chance to explain. But the more he had thought about it, the more he had been convinced as to Sophia’s innocence and Ethan’sguilt. He was just the sort of man to play games, siding with whomsoever he could procure the greatest profit. He had seen a chance and taken it, forcing Sophia’s hand in the process. And yet Jasper longed to think there was more to Sophia’s apparent feelings than just an act. He had truly felt something for her, and it had felt to him as though she, too, had felt something for him.

“You continue to astound me, Jasper. Aren’t you wary? All you’ve done… all you’ve achieved,” Peter said, and Jasper nodded.

“Yes, but it was Penelope who caused me to think again about all that. My father was reckless. I’m naturally cautious. But in matters of the heart, can one really afford to be so?” he asked.

Love was always a risk, or so Jasper had reasoned. There was no reason in love. He had been struck by the force of his own feelings – surprised at just how strong they had grown in such a short amount of time. He had never fallen in love, despite what his cousin might think. And now that he had done so, he had come to realize just how difficult it was – impossible, even – to fall out of love, even after what he had come to believe had been revealed.

“I suppose not, but… are you certain about her?” Peter asked.

Jasper shook his head. He could not be certain, and therein lay the risk. He knew how he felt, and he knew he would only go on feeling the same, and yet it seemed, too, as though he had burned bridges. He feared Sophia would think him nothing but arrogant, that her first impressions of him would be proved correct, and that any chance of proving her wrong was now gone. He had been quick to agree to the idea of the ruse, and his emotions, his feelings, had been quick to respond.

“I don’t know… well, I’m certain I know how I feel about her. I’m in love with her. But as for how I feel about her… well, I’m still fearful she’s lied to me, and I’m certain Ethan’s lied to me,” Jasper replied.

He had known he could not trust the Earl from the first moment he had set eyes on him. His reputation had said as much, and his persistence in attempting to secure a business arrangement had made Jasper suspicious. He had had no intention of making any deal – with or without a courtship – but had the ruse continued, Jasper feared he might have been taken in.

“Undoubtedly. But then… you lied to him, didn’t you? You allowed him to think there was a chance of securing a business arrangement between the three of us. Sophia was the promise in that, wasn’t she? You haven’t recovered your father’s lost fortune without some shrewdness of your own, Jasper,” Peter said.

Jasper smiled. He was shrewd. He had to be. His father had left him with nothing, and had he not done what he had done, and clawed back those things he believed were rightfully his, the whole family – himself, his sister, and his mother – would have been destitute.

“You’re right,” Jasper replied, and his friend raised his eyebrows.

“Then what do you really think? What’s your gut telling you about all of this? About Sophia, I mean,” Peter asked.

Jasper was about to answer, reiterating his uncertainty, and the doubts he had as to whether he could trust Sophia, when suddenly she appeared on the stairs above. She was wearing pearls around her neck, her long, flowing dress trailing down the stairs, its peacock blue folds shimmering in the light coming through the windows above. She was beautiful, and at that moment, Jasper knew just what he thought of her. He was in love with her, and his doubts melted away. Sophia had been sincere – of that, he was certain – and now he gazed up at her, hardly knowing what to say.

“She’s… beautiful,” he whispered, and he was about to step forward to greet her when his cousin came pushing through the throng.

“Sophia, there you are. Really, how long does it take to visit the powder room?” Henry said, shaking his head and tutting.

Sophia had now noticed Jasper gazing at her, and it was clear she was torn, not knowing which way to turn, a look of fear – of hesitancy – coming over her face.

“I was… distracted,” she stammered, turning to Henry, who was motioning for her to follow him.

“We’ll take the air outside for a few moments. It’s getting stuffy in here,” Henry said, glancing at Jasper with a disdainful look on his face.

Sophia still looked torn, but she had no choice but to follow Henry outside. As Jasper watched her go, his heart sank.

“Well… you’ve got a challenge there, my friend. Is it really worth it to drive a wedge between you and your cousin? Henry won’t allow you to take her from him again. He’ll marry her as soon as he can,” Peter said.

Sophia and Henry had disappeared through the throng and out onto the terrace, but Jasper could not rid himself of the look on her face. It was not the look of a woman dismissive of feelings, nor was it the look of a woman whose goal was deception. There was sorrow there, desperation, even – the sincerity of one who knew loss and longed for circumstances to be different.

“But I can’t let that happen. I know you have your doubts, Peter. You’re a good friend. Just like Penelope has her doubts, too. I’ve worked too hard for what I have, for what I’ve clawed back from the brink. I can’t let myself be taken for a fool. But Sophia matters, too. She doesn’t want to marry Henry,” Jasper said, though he could not quite bring himself to claim she wanted to marry him instead.

It was his hope, of course, but still, he held back, fearing his own hurt, even though he wanted to save Sophia from hers.