Chapter Twenty-Five

J asper wanted to take Vanessa to bed. No. He wanted to want to take her to bed. But he’d eaten nothing all day and his stomach was still sour. He felt unwell.

After seeing her settled into the drawing room, he gave her an apologetic smile and said, “Would it be terrible of me to go meet Crispin at Tattersalls? I suspect he’s sailing out soon and I don’t know when I’ll see him again.”

“Go. Of course, go.” She exhaled a long, tired breath. “Jasper, I didn’t sleep last night. What I want most is a nap.”

“Oh.” How deflating. “All right, then.”

He fussed about for a few more minutes, then took his leave. He’d bring her something. Maybe not jewelry. Flowers, perhaps. Or gloves.

Despite his penchant for walking, he had the groom bring the carriage around to take him to Tattersalls. The horse market was vast—with labyrinthine covered alleys and expansive stables—yet he found Crispin fairly easily. His brother had apparently bypassed several prime horses and was examining one that was long in the tooth.

“Crispin?”

“Jasp.” He frowned at the nag. “I don’t know.”

“Well, not that one.”

“I don’t need speed. I don’t do all that much darting about. I need a horse that can plod all day long.”

“Still. Not that one.” And Crispin knew better. “Come. Let’s look for something bred for stamina.”

Crispin patted the horse’s flank and followed Jasper, scuffing his feet in the straw, but he glanced over his shoulder for another look.

“Why?” Jasper said. “You said you wanted a mount like Firebrand.”

“I don’t want to kill another horse.” He sounded angry. Or not angry—rather, aggrieved.

“What?”

“I’ve been looking at these fine animals and it sickens me to have to choose one. The bill of sale will be its execution warrant.”

Jasper sighed. “Nevertheless, you need a decent horse.” Then he peered at Crispin more closely. He had his hand splayed over his midsection. Like his gut hurt. The image brought to mind a frail schoolboy, paler than milk, insisting he was fine. “What’s wrong?”

Crispin didn’t reply, but left the stall behind and walked towards the carriage horses. Jasper followed. Abruptly, Crispin turned.

“I wasn’t there. At the boat. I don’t want you to think I was there.”

“I’m not sure I take your meaning.”

“My role was merely to find out who and then make sure he tried to leave England.”

Jasper smiled wryly. “I thought the latter was my role.”

“Ha. You and…,” he tapped three fingers against this thumb sequentially, as though counting, “…three others. With methods increasingly crude and desperate. I am impressed by the elegance of your plan. And am pleased that it worked as well as it did. But…”

Jasper knew about Caro. He was not surprised there were more.

“…but I was worried it might not and worried that one of the others might also go wrong, horribly wrong. And I was worried that Hilyer could end up dead in the street if we could not get him to the boat.”

“So you had Hazard sit on me all night.”

Crispin nodded. “Jasper, I’m a drudge. I was not privy to the plans of the higher-ups. I don’t know if what ultimately happened was intentional or a foul-up. I keep thinking it can’t have been authorized, and yet…” The look he shot Jasper was anguished. “I’m glad he’s dead. You don’t know what it’s like for our men. How they contend with wormy flour, wet powder, and boots that fall apart after a day on the march. Hilyer was not the only profiteer, only the most egregious. Tampering with the rum was the last straw.” He ground one fist into the other. “But I thought he’d be arrested. Tried. Honest to God, Jasper.”

Jasper was unsure how to respond. If Hilyer had been caught trying to smuggle military secrets to France, he was a spy subject to execution. But if the documents were faked, as Crispin’s letter had implied… Finally, he said, “He might have avoided punishment if he’d gone to court.”

“Yes, I know. As I said, I’m glad he’s dead. They must have executed them both on the spot—Hilyer and whoever the unfortunate lackey with him was. Then they burned the corpses, loosened the moorings, and set the whole ship afire. That had to have been planned. Don’t you think?” His voice dropped. “I could not have plotted something like that.”

“No, of course not.”

Crispin rubbed his sleeve over his eyes. “But what a hypocrite that makes me. I can deliver a man to slaughter. I can wish him dead. But if it came down to it…”

“You’re a soldier, not a cold-blooded killer. That doesn’t make you a hypocrite.” He shook Crispin’s shoulder. “I’m glad he’s dead, too. I’m glad someone killed him. I’m also glad it was not you.”

“I didn’t want you to think it was.”

Jasper nodded. He didn’t. He’d put his money on Caro.

“Come on.” He grabbed his brother’s arm and pulled him roughly along. “I’ll pick your horse. I don’t care if it comes back in one piece. So long as you do.”

*

Jasper was glad to find Vanessa awake. He wanted to be with her. He wanted to bathe in her honesty and innocence. He was tired of scandal and intrigues and plots. She sat before a fire in the parlor. The flicker of the flames brought out the chestnut in her hair, falling loose about her shoulders. He didn’t know why he’d ever imagined her chin too severe. She was the most beautiful woman he’d ever known.

The parlor was one of the smaller rooms in the house. She seemed to prefer it. Perhaps because it was warm and bright. Perhaps it was the muted browns and beiges of the furnishings. One could sink into its comfort with nothing to distract except an oversized leafy potted plant by the window. She was embroidering a design on a pair of gloves, white floss on white gloves. It was all so peaceful.

He felt like he should tiptoe into the room.

“How was Tattersalls?” she asked, glancing up at his approach.

“Loud and odiferous. But successful. Crispin has reluctantly fallen in love with another horse.”

She nodded. He walked over and sat in the armchair next to hers.

“How did it go at Brooks’s?” she asked, her voice measured, falsely calm.

“Everything went as planned. The only surprise was how thoroughly Prinny threw himself into the project. I can’t tell whether he despises Hilyer as much as we do, or if he simply found playacting to be fun.”

Vanessa tossed her head. “I know he’ll be our king soon, but the man is a buffoon.”

“Shh. We are not supposed to say that out loud.”

She sniffed. Then she picked out the stitch she had just done. Focusing on her handiwork, she asked, “And so, what happens now?”

“What do you mean?”

“Hilyer is no longer going to bother us, but what of the rest? Going out into Society. Bringing me into your world.”

“What would you like to do?”

“I don’t know. Nothing for a good long while. But it doesn’t make sense to back away and lose ground.” She set down the gloves and pushed back her hair, running her fingers through it as she did so, seemingly without paying attention to it. Though he did. “I suppose I might pay a call on Lady Posonby.”

“She would like that. And I think you’ll like her.” He offered the next piece of news with some hesitation. “The Prince Regent wants to receive you at Carlton House.”

Her eyes went wide. “Jasper!” Then she shook her head. “Good God.”

“You don’t have to go if you don’t wish to.”

“Yes, I do. That is not an invitation one can refuse.”

He said nothing because she was right. Even if the man was a buffoon.

“Jasper, please don’t get your hopes up too high. Notoriety may bring me into fashion for a moment, but I will only ever stand at the fringes of your world.”

“Society is at the fringes. You are central to my world.”

She flushed. “And Grosvenor Square? Where I am an embarrassment to you?”

“My mother was the embarrassment. Not you.” But he was casting blame where it did not belong. “No.” He sighed. “It was wrong of me to spring you on her like that, with no preparation. I-I’ll talk to her.”

“I don’t want to cause friction in your family.” She stood up, frowning. “That’s the last thing I want. Let it lie for now. Be kind to her. I’m not a threat. Don’t make her see me as one.”

“All right.” It was cowardly, probably, to give in so readily but he had no idea how he might speak to his mother about any of this. And he didn’t want to argue with Vanessa either. “Come, sit with me.”

She gave him a wry look. “You mean sit on you.”

“I do.”

She came to him. Sat on his lap. He pulled her close and tucked her head beneath his chin to breathe in the tree-bark scent of her hair.

“I remember the first time I kissed you.”

She relaxed into his embrace. “So do I. You came three nights in a row to ‘see if everything was all right.’”

“I couldn’t stay away.” He held her tighter. “You kept surprising me.”

“Yes, apparently, you’d never seen a woman build a fire before.” He heard the teasing in her voice. She was flirting with him. And he, with her.

“Not one I’d paid any attention to.” He laughed a little. “Yet there you were. Kneeling at the hearth. Hands coated with smut.”

“You scolded me for not having Madeline do it. And then again when I told you I’d given her the night off.”

“I’m sorry about that. It was kind of you when her mother was sick.”

“Well, about that.” Vanessa ducked her head against his chest. “Her mother was not.”

“She wasn’t?” He moved her shoulders so that he could stare down at her. “You wanted to make me feel awful for telling you how to treat your maid!” It made him chuckle.

“I gave her the evening off because I thought you might come by again and I wanted to be with you alone. You arrived earlier than I expected.”

That silenced him for a moment. Stirred him. And reassured him. She’d wanted this too. From the beginning. She’d wanted this too.

Then she laughed, shaking as she fell back against him. “The look on your face, Jasper.” She mimicked his voice. “‘ Then I’ll do it. Move aside .’ So I did. And you knelt down and picked up a log and stared at the cold hearth as though you’d never seen one before.”

“I’d seen them. I just had no idea what to do with one. I’d only ever thrown wood onto a burning fire. You didn’t have to laugh so hard.”

“Yes, I did. You looked so ridiculous I couldn’t help it. But then, you laughed too. Oh, Jasper. I adore that about you. I’ve never known a man who can laugh so readily at himself.”

“I’ve had a lot of practice,” he said dryly.

“And then, you kissed me.”

“ I couldn’t help it.” Or any of what came next. It was all, still, beyond his control. “But that was not the first time I kissed you.”

“Of course it was!”

He shook his head, then tilted her chin so that she would look at him.

“The evening before, I came to the house twice. The first time, you never saw me. I came inside and heard your laughter. It drew me upstairs, curious. Especially when I heard tears, too. Madeline’s, I discovered.”

“Oh my God.” She buried her face in her hands. “The dress! You saw me in that dress?”

“It was a horrifying sight. I’ve never seen, or hope to see again, anything in that color. Was it supposed to be green? That shade, with your hair?” He laughed along with her.

“It had all those pink bows!”

“And best of all, it showed a good three inches of ankle. Yet you were going on and on about adding a ruffle and it would be fine.”

“Oh, poor Madeline. She was devastated.”

Jasper sobered. “But you were so kind.” His heart melted all over again. “I knew at once what must have happened. I hadn’t given her enough money—”

“You provided more than enough for a few dresses at a second-hand store. Don’t blame yourself, for pity’s sake. What do you know of working-class women’s clothing? Madeline walked into a shop and saw the dress and thought it the most beautiful thing in the world.”

“And you were doing your best to convince her it was. You were so full of grace, Vanessa. I could only wonder at you. A soldier’s wife. A widow. So much hardship and yet you were not hardened. I think it was then that I lost my heart to you. Right then. I wanted to take you into my arms.”

Vanessa’s eyes glistened.

“But,” Jasper said, “I could not walk in, of course. It would have turned farce into tragedy. So I blew you a kiss.” He showed her. Putting his first two fingertips on his lips, kissing, then tossing the kiss forward. “It was silly and romantic, and I felt like an idiot tiptoeing back down the stairs…I was very glad there was no one there to see.”

“I wish I had seen it.” She kissed him on the nose. “I adore silly and romantic.”

“Do you?”

She started to untie his neckcloth. “Um-hmm. I’m not always pragmatic and serious.”

“No?” He helped her, then tossed the cloth to the floor. Urgently. She undid the top buttons of his shirt and began kissing and nipping his neck.

“You still have so much to learn about me, Jasper Taverston,” she murmured against his ear.

“Fortunately,” his voice hitched, “I have a lifetime to devote to the task.”

“Sometimes I am frivolous and adventuresome. And sometimes…”

He groaned when her hands moved to the buttons of his fall. “Show me.”