Chapter Nineteen

T he earl’s coach was two hours outside of London before Jasper stirred. He opened his eyes, testing his aching head, then closed them quickly, but not before taking note of Hazard, slumped in the opposite corner. Hazard looked wrinkled. And mottled.

“Unbearable,” Hazard moaned. “What were we thinking not to postpone this horror until tomorrow?”

“To do all our suffering at once?”

It was what they had agreed upon late last night. Or early this morning. Now with his mouth feeling stuffed with cotton, Jasper knew the decision had been the wrong one. Even though they were expected at Chaumbers tonight, they should not have embarked on this journey. The coach was hot. The motion nauseating.

“God,” he muttered. “We are too old for this.”

“I will never,” Hazard said, “ never drink with Carroll again. The man is hollow-legged.”

Jasper’s lips tried to twitch into a smile but failed.

“And no fluid of any sort from that ungodly hemisphere will ever touch my now befurred tongue again,” Hazard continued.

“Well, that promise is easy to keep. I’m fairly certain we finished it off.” American whiskey had an unpleasant taste that somehow improved the more one drank. Jasper could still smell it. The stink would never come out of his clothes. His stomach rolled threateningly.

“Clever of Carroll to refuse your invitation. Seven hours baking in a carriage…”

Jasper made no reply to this. He had invited Benjamin to Chaumbers and had been refused. Too much work yet in London. And the child to think of. Jasper hadn’t pressed, even though he thought Chaumbers a healthier environment for a two-year-old than London in late summer. But he had a regrettable memory of importuning Benjamin again, rather aggressively, last night. God. He even said—if only this were a false memory—that Olivia would be sorely disappointed if he did not come.

He hadn’t been so foxed, no, so despicably drunk , in years.

A snicker sounded from Hazard’s corner. “Was Reg really kissing Georgiana behind your back while you were courting her?”

Now it was Jasper’s turn to moan. Had he recounted all of that? Surely not all.

“So he claimed.” At least he could trust Hazard and Benjamin to keep their mouths closed. “I have no reason to doubt such a tale.”

“It is just that it is so hard to picture.”

Jasper snorted. It was an image he tried to keep out of his head. “I suspect Crispin caught them at it.”

Hazard guffawed. Then he clutched his head and groaned.

They lapsed into silence. Jasper dozed in the gut-sick way of the recently inebriated. When he awoke again, they had stopped to change horses. They eased themselves from the coach, then rocked on their heels and stomped their feet to bring back the blood. The air was sultry. The grass, for as far afield as Jasper could see, was dry and brown.

“Do you think tea?” Hazard said, gazing skeptically at the posting station.

Jasper put a hand to his middle as if that were a fair gauge. “I can attempt it.”

They wandered inside and ordered a pot from the proprietress, then sat at a corner table, away from a common-looking couple who were bickering none too quietly about their biscuits.

“Carroll said surprisingly little,” Hazard mused. “All I gathered, really, was that his so-called business partner was a charlatan. And his heart is hopelessly lost to the little imp.”

Benjamin had said almost nothing, growing stiffer and stiffer the more that he drank.

“I think he is trying to behave professionally.”

Hazard sniffed. “Ridiculous. Didn’t the two of you whore together at Oxford?”

Jasper scowled. He didn’t like to be reminded of his youthful indiscretions. “Not at all. We drank a good deal, yes, but…” He finished acidly, “The only person I went whoring with was Crispin. And that sparingly.” Crispin ran rings around him.

The proprietress arrived with their tea. Jasper flushed, hoping they had not been overheard. When she stepped away, he said, “Change the subject.”

Hazard looked amused. “I had hoped Crispin might return to London for the celebrations. Am I correct that he didn’t?”

Jasper shook his head. The main reason he’d stayed so long in London was for the Vitoria celebrations: parties, a parade, an evening of fireworks, and the Prince Regent’s gala at Carlton House—all the while hoping to see Crispin. And no, he had not come home.

The whole thing had been arduous. Any grace period the matchmakers of the ton had granted him had evidently expired. Everyone knew his first attempt to woo a countess had failed. And that he’d put aside his mistress. He was now fair game. He made the mistake of taking Rose Posonby for a carriage ride and found their names linked in a gossip notice the very next day. The only reason he’d asked her, and the only reason she’d accepted, was that they were both hoping the other had had word from Vanessa.

“Crispin sent a letter,” he said. “Vitoria may have turned things around, but it is not the end of it.”

Hazard nodded morosely. They both drank their tea. When they’d emptied the pot, Hazard patted his chest and said, “That sat pretty well, considering. I should be recovered well enough to go riding tomorrow.”

“With Olivia.”

“Oh, right.” He bit his lip. “The day after tomorrow then.”

Jasper laughed. Keeping up with his younger sister on horseback was a challenge. Hazard had agreed to spend two weeks at Chaumbers helping him entertain her. Poor Olivia had twice been denied a Season in London. She took that in stride; she was a rock. But she must be bored to distraction. The least Jasper could do was try to ease her loneliness, although, of course, it would feel wrong to bring any bachelor friends around just yet. Hazard being the exception.

Jasper was looking forward to rusticating a bit and thought Hazard was too. They would ride, hunt, play cards and billiards, perhaps talk some politics. Although Hazard was physically recovered from the incident on Vere Street, he remained withdrawn and…jumpy. Jasper was doing his best to draw him out. He’d even asked Olivia to invite Alice to visit these two weeks, but Alice had gone to the country with her father after Mr. Gamby had not come up to scratch. Well, he’d stir Hazard up without her.

Jasper stood, stretching his legs. The tea had been reviving. He pulled his watch from his pocket. “We’d best be on the road. It will be a late supper.” He grimaced. “I believe I will adopt Crispin’s ‘no liquor’ policy this fortnight.”

Hazard chuckled. “Thank God.”

*

Hazard was a very smart man. Although he liked to play the lazy aristocrat, Jasper knew he took very good care of his tenants and his fields yielded well. So when they toured the Iversley estate and its environs—all Jasper’s responsibility now—he tried sounding him out.

“Do you think sheep?” he asked. A good number of peers were trying this.

Hazard shook his head with an air of impatience. “Farmers are not shepherds. You have good soil here. Sheep will just tear up the ground.”

“Yes, but, a lot of the young lads are leaving the farms. Hieing off to the city.”

“The better of them will come back.”

Jasper doubted it. But didn’t argue.

“Besides,” Hazard said, “they won’t stay to follow sheep around either. You’re better off investing in machinery and encouraging them to use it.”

Jasper sighed. He imagined Benjamin would have a head for this, but it would mean coming out to Chaumbers to look around, which Benjamin seemed reluctant to do.

“Your people are doing well,” Hazard said. “That’s evident just from looking. You don’t need to change much of what your father was doing. Just stay alert. Head off small problems before they become large ones.”

“For example?”

Hazard laughed. “The most obvious is ensuring your line.”

“God.” Jasper huffed, peeved even though he knew Hazard was teasing. “I thought I’d have two weeks without harassment.”

“I was joking.” Hazard gave him a long look that Jasper found difficult to duck. “Jasper, don’t let anyone rush you. You may be able to put Vanessa firmly in your past, but it will be a mistake to try to force a relationship with someone else until you do.”

“And what makes you so wise?” he scoffed.

Hazard looked off into the distance. “Experience, my friend. Experience.”

Jasper decided to let that topic lie.

*

The days grew increasingly hot. Jasper, Hazard, and Olivia rode out to the lake. Hazard pulled the skiff from the boathouse and took Olivia for a row, while Jasper sat, sweating, in the limited shade. He’d brought Georgiana here, he remembered, but could not recall what they’d discussed.

And that, he supposed, demonstrated the effort he had put into wooing her.

Irritated, he stripped down to his drawers and dove into the water. It was bracingly cold. He swam with brisk, strong strokes until his body warmed and his muscles started to ache. Then he returned to shore and dropped to the grass to dry off.

He heard far-off laughter, Olivia and Hazard’s. He peered across the lake to see Olivia rowing and Hazard lounging. It made him smile.

He lay back in the grass and closed his eyes. He drifted a bit, not fully asleep but dreaming. The itch of water evaporating from his skin pulled him back in time to the bath he had given Vanessa. For such a beautiful woman, she was shy about her body. It drove him mad. He’d convinced her, once, to wear nothing but a long string of pearls. She was a sight to behold. But she hadn’t been able to relax, and he suspected it had not been very good for her. The bath though, that she had enjoyed.

A smile curved on his lips. He’d washed her hair first. Massaged her scalp. And then used that bit of silk to tickle every part of her. He’d been desperately aroused. He was aroused now, remembering.

Her enjoyment had been…loud. And she’d thrashed enough to empty half the tub onto the floor. His shirtsleeves and trousers ended up soaked.

Ah, Vanessa.

He heard the boat scrape against the dock. He opened his eyes to see Hazard handing Olivia out. Hazard saw him. Then he spun Olivia around.

“Did you see that fish jump? Look! My God. It looked like a whale!”

“Where?” Olivia laughed and slapped at Hazard’s arm, while he held her firmly. “You’re imagining things. Again.”

Jasper grabbed his trousers and yanked himself into them. Then pulled his shirt over his head. Hazard cast a look over his shoulder before releasing Olivia. Hazard’s expression was strange. Annoyed, yes. Half amused. But mostly embarrassed. Jasper was horrified.

He pulled on his stockings, then his boots, slowly. Hazard walked Olivia in a rather wide circle past him. Then he helped her mount her horse.

“Why don’t you fly on back to the house?” Hazard said. “Your brother and I will lag behind. He looks sun stricken.”

Olivia cast a glance his way, then laughed. “No, he always looks that way.”

Hazard slapped the horse’s rump and Olivia started homeward. Hazard did not move from his spot.

Jasper got to his feet ungracefully, staggering a little if truth be told.

Hazard cut a look at him. “You should probably spend an hour with a woman.”

“Shut up.”

“Have you not? Since…” He counted back. “Since November ?”

“That isn’t any of your business.”

Hazard shook his head. “Not since November. Tell me: Have you even been tempted?”

“Shut up.”

Hazard walked around, cinching the saddles on their mounts. Giving Jasper time to shake off his torpor and his embarrassment. Then he mounted his horse and looked to Jasper with an expression that said: Are you ready?

Jasper put his foot in his stirrup and swung a leg over his saddle. They started for the house in silence. And Jasper realized how odd it was, how unlike Hazard, to shut up.

*

Politics was the safest topic, though it should not be, given they had diametrically opposite views.

Dusk had deepened and footmen had lighted a few lamps on the small terrace. Chaumbers was beautiful in the late evenings. Ha! Much more beautiful than it was during the day. Daylight accentuated its architectural flaws.

There was a cool breeze on the terrace and a few stars had begun to peep out. In only three days, Jasper was due back in London and wished now that he had arranged to stay longer. He and Hazard were sipping lemonade and arguing. No, not arguing. Discussing.

Jasper said, “I fall back, again, on Liverpool. ‘Every class of religious persons deserves the support, the toleration, and the protection of a rational state.’ But that is civil liberty. Liberty. It does not mean Catholics and Dissenters should have access to political power.”

“And how much liberty do they have without such power? Good God, man. They cannot sit in Parliament. They cannot hold military office. They cannot even legally marry in their own churches and have those marriages recognized as valid.”

“They can have their little ceremonies and then have legal ones. It amounts to the same.”

Hazard gave him a hard look. “I will give you a hypothetical. Suppose a Dissenter, or let us say more simply a man with unorthodox views, wishes to teach at Oxford. His brilliance is undeniable. His loyalty to England is unquestionable. But his innate honesty makes him pause over professing to subscribe to the Thirty-Nine Articles.”

“If he cannot swear to the tenets of faith of the Church of England, he has no business at Oxford.”

“And if that man is Reg?”

Jasper faltered. Then he said, “Reg’s quarrel with the church is intellectual, not spiritual.”

Hazard laughed. “I suspect he would say they are one and the same.”

Jasper gathered back the threads of his argument. “If Reg cannot in good conscience subscribe to the Thirty-Nine, then he cannot teach young Englishman. I make no allowances for family. And will give no preference to friends. The law is the law.”

“I agree with you. Which is why I say some laws must be changed. Jasper, do you not think that with a measure of reasonableness, we might have held onto the American Colonies? Do you not see the danger with Ireland—”

“Two different situations entirely.”

“Yes. The Irish are far more volatile.”

“Their allegiance is to the Pope. Not to the king. You would have us grant political power to hordes who will not accept the authority of the state.”

“Church and King,” sighed Hazard, shaking his head. “You are the echo of your father.”

“There are worse men to echo.”

Hazard raised his glass in tribute. “Indeed.” He took a drink, then smacked his lips. “A shame Hovington’s niece is not here. Alice would have you voting for Catholic Emancipation before sunrise.”

“We invited her, but she could not come.”

Hazard looked askance at him. “You invited her? I hope not for my sake.”

“I’m not matchmaking.” Jasper sniffed at the very idea. “She’s Olivia’s friend.”

“Not matchmaking, no. But you are trying to draw me back into the arena.”

“You have strong opinions. You should voice them.”

Hazard let out a long sigh. “My voice, if I were to raise it too loudly, will only harm a cause so worthy.”

“That is not—”

“Moreover, and perhaps more significantly, I have grown too staid and too cowardly to draw unnecessary attention to myself.”

Words died on Jasper’s lips. Uncomfortable with the direction of the discussion, he resettled in his chair and leaned his head back to count the stars. More were emerging against the blackening sky. Hazard was right, of course. Unfair though it may be, it was wiser for him to fade into the background. And it was an unfair world that would force Reg to swear against his own conscience in order to hold a position he was more than qualified to hold. Qualified, except that he was too highborn to be a don, so he would likely make all his contributions from the fringes. And Alice could write persuasive speeches but never deliver them. And he could not marry Vanessa.

“We live in a cruel world,” he murmured.

“We have made it so.”

Jasper drained his glass. Then slapped a biting bug on his arm.

“Let’s go inside. The billiard table is calling.”