Chapter Eleven

D espite the heaviness of heart he could not seem to shake, Jasper was glad for the excuse to end his self-imposed prohibition against attending balls; after all, he had always enjoyed dancing. It would help pass an evening. Moreover, who could miss the first ball to be held in the wake of Wellington’s success at Vitoria? Spirits were so high—not his, but everyone else’s—it was a wonder London wasn’t airborne.

The Hovingtons’ ballroom was one of the largest in London and probably the most exquisite: marble floor, crystal chandeliers, floor-to-ceiling windows, with silk-damask coverings on the walls to mute the sounds. If her cousin Alice’s debut was this fine, Georgiana’s must have been splendid. Poor Reg would have been out of his depth. It was funny, really, how things worked themselves out.

Well, not funny for him, of course. He escorted Alice onto the floor. He reminded himself he needed to make conversation with the young lady. “How pretty you look, Miss Fogbotham. I trust you’ve been enjoying your Season.”

“Very much so, Iversley . Especially with Georgiana and Reginald back in London. I only wish Crispin and Olivia could be here.”

He recalled how she, how they all, had teased him at Chaumbers for clinging to formal address while they—unbeknownst to him—had progressed to using given names. Lud. Quite a bit had been going on unbeknownst to him. It would be too scandalous for her, here, to call him Jasper. Especially as he was now the Earl. But of course, she knew that. He winked at her, so that she would know he was teasing too.

He led her to the top of the reel. The music began and they danced. She had nimble feet and a quick smile. But after a few admittedly banal compliments, he realized she was not paying attention to him. The pattern of the dance took them away from each other and then back again.

“Am I so dull?” he asked. In his head, the words were teasing, but they emerged from his mouth like blocks of wood.

She blinked, startled, then said, “Oh, good Heavens, no. Please! I am indebted to you for favoring me like this—”

“Well, that’s nonsense.”

“The truth is, I am distracted by something. It’s terrible form for me to ask about it. Yet I can’t think of anything else. Especially talking to you.”

And then they were obliged to whirl away from one another. It occurred to him he hadn’t devoted much time to Alice when they were at Chaumbers. Was she sincere or was this some new way girls were trying to flirt?

They faced each other again. The little furrow between her brows suggested sincerity. He suppressed a sigh. Did it matter? So long as they presented a picture of amusing one another.

“You’ve piqued my interest. It would be rude, now, not to ask.”

She took his permission and ran with it. “How was Hazard’s speech received? I asked him, but you know how it is when he wishes to deflect attention.”

“His speech was magnificent.”

“Was it?” She beamed. “I knew it would be. So, he kept serious then?”

“Remarkably so.” Then he thought about her words. “How did you know?”

“How did I know that he was making a speech?”

“That he would be serious. Hazard is never serious.”

“Yes, but it is a serious topic.”

“Good Lord, Alice!”

She shushed him. Then she slipped off on Mikton’s arm while he twirled with Miss Felicity Brewer. He absentmindedly flashed a smile at her that he had not used since he was Reginald’s age. He hadn’t meant to. The duchess would be thrilled with him. He gladly relinquished the startled, blushing girl to Mikton and hurried back to Alice so quickly that he missed a step and nearly crushed her foot.

“Jasper,” she hissed. “Ouch! Georgiana said you danced well!”

“I do.” He sorted himself, annoyed. Now the duchess would be wringing her hands. The point was to convince people there was nothing here to gossip about. Instead, they would be saying Iversley was falling all over Miss Fogbotham and flirting outrageously with all the debutantes. He must be carrying a torch for his brother’s wife.

For a moment, he danced with more decorum, a bland smile on his face that Alice copied. Then he imagined the triviality of what the gossips could say about this. And how little it mattered. Then he remembered what had set him off.

“Is Hazard discussing politics with you?”

The little furrow deepened to a brow-wrinkling frown.

“Don’t do that,” he warned, through smiling teeth. “We are enjoying ourselves.”

She pasted back her smile. “He mentioned he was giving a speech.”

“He mentioned the Coal Tax?”

“Leath—” She bit off the word. “All right. Yes. He wished to practice it, so I listened.”

He recalled how much sharper the arguments were in the speech Hazard had given versus the one he had written. And how very serious Hazard had been. Laying the groundwork . Ha! He certainly was. But not for this bill, which hadn’t a chance of failing.

The music drew to an end. They could not continue this conversation, but he was heartily intrigued.

“Thank you, Miss Fogbotham.” He bowed. “I see Mr. Gamby approaching. And I am off to claim Mrs. Taverston.”

“That should be fun for everyone. Don’t mash her toes.”

He bowed again, leaving her to her inconstant suitor. It would be amusing, dancing with Georgiana. But he was more looking forward to locating Hazard. The man was not courting Alice. Or pretending to court her. The clever chit was launching his political career.

*

When the musicians began playing what must be the final set, Jasper thought he might finally, without incurring the duchess’s censure, make his goodbyes. He had danced with enough young ladies to have done his duty and had even danced with Georgiana twice. He may have had one too many glasses of champagne. It was time to depart.

One thing he had not had to do was bar Hazard access to his strategist. Hazard was not monopolizing Alice—he had not even bothered to attend the ball. It wasn’t unusual for Hazard to skip ton events. He’d had his fill of them over the years. But this was different. The duke and duchess were friends of his. Moreover, Jasper had wanted to talk to him. To twit him, yes, but also to find out what was truly going on.

He wasn’t the first to leave. The duke and duchess were standing together, near the doorway, not encouraging people to go but not discouraging them either.

“Hovington. Your Grace.” He bowed over the duchess’s hand. “An exceptional ball. Your niece is a diamond.” Alice was a resounding success.

The duchess smiled. She looked a bit misty eyed. “It went well, did it not? Thank you.”

“Me? For what?”

“For your graciousness. About everything.”

He chuckled. Graciously. “All’s well that ends well.”

He left Watershorn. His house was not far, a little over a mile. He hadn’t come in a carriage, so he would walk home, late though it was. It was not the cleverest thing to do, but he had never yet been accosted by a footpad.

He marched along briskly. He should be keeping his eyes open for trouble, but he had one of the waltzes stuck in his head. He couldn’t hum it out because he couldn’t hum on key. The imaginary music took his mind back to dancing.

He should have danced more with Vanessa. She loved waltzing. She was featherlight on her feet. It wasn’t as though they never were able to dance together. After the first few difficult months, with a little strong-arming on his part, they were invited as a couple to some small, very small, private parties. He and Vanessa even hosted a few parties themselves. There was generally dancing. He’d taken her to Vauxhall several times. Once, they went to a large, masked ball, but that had been a mistake. The masks never provided the degree of anonymity that the ton liked to pretend that they did.

Reginald had danced thrice tonight with Georgiana. It was considered bad ton to dance with one’s own wife at a ball. Another rule with no rhyme or reason. And Reg broke it without a qualm.

Jasper wished he’d danced with Vanessa more…married her and then danced with her more.

God. His head ached. He should not have had that last glass of champagne.

He turned from the road to the walk to his house. In the moonlight, there were strange shadows amongst the shrubbery. One flickered. Moved. Jasper gave a startled shout.

“It’s me.” The voice was unrecognizable, but Hazard emerged, practically fell, from a narrow space between two shrubs. He took two steps, and then he did fall. Jasper caught him.

“Good God! What happened?”

The side of the man’s face was coated with blood. Mostly dried. Some not.

“If it isn’t too much to ask, can we have this conversation inside?”

“The devil.”

Jasper wrenched one of Hazard’s arms across his shoulder and practically carried the man to his door. He banged on it with his foot. Finley opened it.

“My Lord? My Lord!”

“Brandy. The study. And…and…”

“Towels? Hot water?” Hazard suggested. His voice was not at all steady and his grin was distorted by a fattening lip. But he went on, “You are alarmingly bad at this. I’m beginning to think I should have chosen a different shrub.”

“Why did you pick mine?”

“It was closest.”

“Bring it all,” Jasper ordered. “Quickly.”

“Quickly is a nice touch.”

Jasper was very much not in the mood for Hazard’s flippancy. Stupidly, he hauled his friend up to the study—he should have used a room downstairs—and sat him in a chair.

“What the hell, Haz? Do you need a doctor? Let me send for—”

“No! If I had needed one, I believe it would now be too late. And there is nothing worse for one’s constitution than an unnecessary physician.” His strained breathlessness gave lie to his amusement.

“What happened?”

“Footpads. Obviously.”

“You were set upon by the world’s most incompetent thieves?”

“Incompetent?”

Jasper tapped Hazard’s gold watch fob, then flicked the chain of his purse, which had not been cut.

“Yes, well, I beat them off.”

Jasper shook his head. It wasn’t theft. “Them? How many?”

“Enough? Or too many. It was dark. I can’t say for sure.”

Finley entered along with two maids. They brought towels and bandages, water basins, soap, brandy, and glasses. The maids arranged it all on the reading table, and then Finley ushered them out.

“Will there be anything else, my lord?”

Jasper looked at Hazard, who said, “Thank you. This should do.”

When they left, Jasper poured Hazard a large glass, which he took and finished in four gulps. His hands were shaking. And his knuckles looked mashed.

“Here,” Jasper said, bringing a water basin closer. “Put your hands in here.”

Hazard did. The water turned pink. Then brown. Jasper leaned to the table to take a towel to dip into the clean water bowl. Then he started dabbing at the blood on his friend’s face. Hazard sat stoically. Quietly. From time to time, something Jasper did made him wince. After a while, he pulled his hands from the water and took the towel from Jasper.

“Have you a mirror?”

Jasper fetched the one hidden on the side of the bookshelf and brought it close. He held it in front of Hazard. Hazard’s breath caught, which made him groan and press his upper arm against the side of his chest.

“Ribs, too?” Jasper asked.

“Just bruised, I hope. I need a favor.”

“God, Haz. Anything.”

“Can I stay here? A few days. Until my face looks like mine again.”

“Yes. Of course, you can. But who are you hiding from?”

“Ah.” He laughed a little. “My mother, actually.”

“Haz.”

“No, I am serious. Eyes like a hawk.” The jesting tone fell away. “I’ve caused the poor woman enough heartache.”

“Who jumped you?”

“I don’t know. That is the truth. Three men. Strangers all.”

“Who stole nothing.” When Hazard didn’t answer, Jasper tried another tack. “Was my house really closest? How far did you have to walk to make it here?” Hazard still didn’t answer. Jasper said, “Were you on your way to Alice’s ball?”

“Damn it. No. No, I was not. I’m not selfish enough to ruin her prospects.”

Jasper felt the ache behind his eyes start to throb. It wasn’t his business. And he probably didn’t want to know.

But Hazard mumbled, “Vere Street. I had to walk, practically crawl, all the way from Vere Street.”

Not just a male brothel, the most notorious of them. Jasper couldn’t believe all the things said about it could be true. He couldn’t picture Hazard there. He didn’t want to.

“I left the Flying Horse, and three bastards caught me and dragged me into the alley.”

“Why did you—”

“Why did I? Why did I ?” Hazard’s voice rose. “God so help me, Jasper, if you dare ask me why I did this to myself, why I do this to myself—” He choked. Then tried to stand. “I’m going. I shouldn’t have come here.”

Jasper pushed him back down. “Stop. You’re staying. I insist that you stay. And I apologize. I didn’t mean…anything. Hazard, you’re the best man that I know. The very best man.”

“Crispin? Reginald?”

“You are the third best man that I know.”

Hazard laughed, not well-amused, but he laughed. “I need another drink. When will you learn to stock the place with gin?”

“I hate gin.” He poured more brandy.

This time, Hazard merely rolled it around in his mouth, then spat into the basin. Great gobs of bloody spit and brandy. Hazard swirled the basin.

“No teeth. I am giddy with joy. I sincerely believed I was to be prematurely toothless.”

“Can I ask you one more question?”

Hazard hesitated, then said warily, “Go on. Just one. Then I’m going to bed.”

“Is Alice your mentor?”

A slow, grotesque smile spread on his face. Jasper could only tell it was a smile by the way Hazard’s eyes crinkled.

“You may keep your Liverpool. That girl has the sharpest mind since Walpole.”