Chapter 16

16

L ight winked in and out of Jasper’s consciousness amid gentle, soothing touches that graced his brow. A man’s authoritative voice mixed with a soft, familiar one that made Jasper’s chest ache worse than his head.

Elizabeth.

He needed to tell her…His thoughts fractured and he frowned, his eyes closed against his sensitivity to the light.

He needed to tell her…

That he loved her.

He squinted his eyes open, his resolve strengthening as he fought the shards of pain splintering in his brain.

He needed to tell her he loved her, damn it.

“Elizabeth,” he groaned aloud.

A cool hand folded around his. “I’m here.”

He blinked his eyes fully open, fixing his attention on the beautiful face coming into focus before him. Her broad forehead and high cheekbones, a lush mouth with a full lower lip that brought back memories he loved to savor, and those wide blue eyes that captured his soul. Her hair was down, a riot of waves that appeared to be somewhat damp.

“Elizabeth,” he said softly.

She smiled at him. “I’m here,” she repeated.

“I love you.” He gripped her hand, as if he could convey the depth of his feelings with his grasp on her. “I love you.”

Her eyes sparkled. “I know.”

His brow furrowed in thought as he combed through his mind to recall when he might have told her. “Did I…had I told you already?”

She shook her head. “I already knew. I thought back on the way you never cared what others thought when I tripped, or how you intentionally pulled the focus of others off me to spare my feelings when I spilled or did something clumsy. I thought about how you made it a point to spend time with me every day before we even decided that being publicly visible together would be more convincing. And in the time we spent together, I could tell you enjoyed our conversations as much as I did.” Her teeth sank shyly against that full bottom lip he loved so much. “And there are other ways in which we appear rather compatible…”

He knew exactly what she implied with such a statement, and he grinned.

“Was that why you came here?” she asked. “To tell me?”

Here?

Where the devil was he?

For the first time since he’d woken, he looked about at his surroundings. The room was awash in delicate sea-foam green, the furniture carved with flowers and vines with accents of gilded petals.

A woman’s room.

“Did I make it to Spinster’s Space?” He sat up slightly and the room spun. “Is this your bedchamber?”

Wincing, he lowered himself back down on the bed.

Elizabeth reached for him, gently guiding him back to the plump pillow behind his neck. A sigh escaped him as he sank into it once more, allowing the softness to cradle the weight of his aching head.

“Spinster’s Sanctuary,” she corrected with a laugh. “And you did not make it entirely.” Her mirth faded as her expression sobered. “Devil’s Snare appeared in the yard and took me directly to where you had fallen and hit your head.”

Ah, that explained the pain radiating from the base of his skull. “A tree stump?” he deduced.

“You remember?” she asked.

He smirked. “No, but it is the only thing Devil is afraid of.” He placed his palm at his brow. “How long have I been here?”

“Only an hour,” Elizabeth soothed. “The doctor just left and said you will need rest for a few days.”

A few days?

He would need to notify Bess, to let his secretary know to manage the estates without him.

“I’ve already sent word to your grandmother to let her know,” Elizabeth said, as though reading his thoughts.

Jasper relaxed. The estate would be in good hands with Bess. In fact, it might be in better order when he returned back to London. The woman knew how to run things in perfect order.

“If I wasn’t so certain Bess would never do anything to hurt me, I’d assume she put that tree stump in my path to ensure I remained here for several days.” He chuckled, imagining just how far Bess might go otherwise to secure his match with Elizabeth. His happiness.

“You may stay as long as you need.” Elizabeth held his hand.

She remained thus, at his side, her small hand curled around his, keeping him company until he fell asleep. When he awoke again, he found her quietly reading one of the volumes of Sense and Sensibility he’d purchased for her, and she read to him until he drifted into slumber once more. Every time he woke, she was still there, meeting his sleepy gaze with a smile and asking after what he might have need of.

“No one has ever been so attentive toward me before,” he said as she handed him a fresh cup of tea, steeped just a minute longer than necessary, exactly how he liked. “My grandmother tried, but I think at that point, I was much older and not inclined to be coddled.”

“Why is that?” Elizabeth asked in that frank way of hers.

He held the teacup in his hand, letting its heat sink into his palms. “I think I was too angry, which I’m sure you’ll ask me about next.”

Elizabeth tilted her head in agreement. “I’d wager this had something to do with your life before you left for your grand tour. You brushed off my question about it when we took the carriage ride in Hyde Park, and I didn’t want to pry…”

“But you’re curious,” he supplemented for her.

“I want to know you.” She put her hand on his forearm, her touch delicate, yet strongly supportive. “I relish all the stories you’ve told me so I can understand you better, to know you more fully.”

“You may not like what you learn,” he cautioned cynically.

Elizabeth merely smiled. “You haven’t put me off thus far.”

No one had wanted to know him before. Not his parents, who saw him only as a means to care for his brother and provide a spare son for the title. Not the women he entertained throughout Europe on his grand tour, who wanted him only for what he could provide over the course of several nights. Not even his friends, who accepted the casual humor of his replies and declined to delve deeper—not that he’d have indulged their queries.

“I’ve never talked about what happened with Benjamin,” he admitted, feeling rather foolish.

“You can talk about it with me.”

And he knew in that moment that he absolutely could. “Benjamin was older than me by a year. You wouldn’t know it to look at us when we were boys. He was shorter than me, his frame slight, his pallor sickly. My parents placed the world on those narrow shoulders, but they were never strong enough to support their dreams for him. Nonetheless, he was always the sole recipient of their love and affection. I was the second son, the spare, the one who was named after another second son who never ascended to the earldom because of my father’s robust health.”

There was a tinge of anger in his words as he spoke, a bitterness staining those memories.

“I was charged with protecting my brother,” he continued. “That was my lot in life, to protect Benjamin so my secondary role as being the spare son would never have to be realized.” He swallowed. “And I failed.”

“I doubt that,” Elizabeth countered.

“I did though.” He closed his eyes, and he remembered the chill of the water gliding against his skin as he swam out, deeper and deeper into the lake, knowing Benjamin could never swim that far. “We had an argument one day when Benjamin didn’t want me following him. I told him I hated following him. I hated how I was charged with minding him like a nanny. I was eight, he was nine, and I resented how much of my life was focused on him, just as he resented my constant shadow. He told me to leave him alone, that he never wanted a younger brother. I know he said it in the heat of the moment, but his words stung nonetheless. Angry and hurt, I turned away and rushed off to the lake. I’d always wanted to swim to the middle, to clear my thoughts, but was never allowed because he could not swim that far. I heard him calling behind me.” An unexpected knot formed in Jasper’s throat, callused by years of ignoring the pain that never stopped burning in his chest.

“I knew he was calling me and I still left, diving into the water.” Jasper looked at the cup of tea, now cold in his hands. “I didn’t hear him dive in after me, likely to apologize. That was kind of the person he was, someone who would make right the wrongs he’d done.” His voice caught and he shook his head, momentarily overwhelmed by his swelling sorrow.

“He drowned that day when he tried to come after me.” Japer hung his head. “I killed him.”

“No.” Elizabeth took the cold cup from his hands and shook her head vehemently. “No, you did not.”

“He never would have gone out to the lake if I?—”

“You never should have been charged with watching him,” Elizabeth said gently. “If he was so ill, he ought to have had someone at his side, a nurse who could care for him. You didn’t know he was swimming after you.”

“My parents didn’t believe that.” Jasper let himself be swept into the determination in her eyes, taking comfort in the way they captivated him with her sincerity. “My mother was never the same after Benjamin died. She stayed in her room, wearing her nightdress, not caring for herself. She died within a year, and my father claimed it was from a broken heart. Because of what I had done.”

Elizabeth was already shaking her head.

“I spent the remainder of my youth in anger before graduating from Eton and going on for my grand tour,” Jasper continued. “I lost myself in distractions without a care for the future or how others might perceive me. While I was gone, my father passed away as well.” He shrugged. “And then it was just Bess and I.”

“And I’m assuming your grandmother will agree with me that what happened to Benjamin was not your fault.”

He nodded. “She is greatly displeased with how my father—her son—treated me. Of my entire family, she is the only one who has ever truly cared for me, who has seen me as who I am and accepted me as that. Until you…”

“I’ve seen you for who you are since that night in the study at Lady Gentry’s ball.” She gave a wistful smile, as if she was remembering. “And I’ve always been keen to know more about you. I’m honored you’ve shared as much as you have with me, that you’ve trusted me.”

He reached for her, unable to think of anyone he would rather trust than her.

“I love you, Elizabeth,” he said softly. Deeply. Truly.

And if she answered him back, he did not hear as he faded into slumber once more, his heart lighter than it had been in years.

Elizabeth stayed at Jasper’s side as he slept, taking her meals there and having his at the ready when he woke.

In the first hour after he’d initially come to, his need to squint his eyes against the light had relaxed and his thoughts seemed clearer, more coherent. Even the periods of sleep he fell into appeared to happen less and less.

“It’s getting late,” Jasper said, his voice gravelly from sleep.

“Not so late.” Elizabeth knew the time to be somewhere just past eleven at night. Late enough that she had encouraged the staff to seek out their own beds, assuring them she would be fine to see to herself and Jasper. “I’ve read far later into the evening than this.”

He grinned at her, that lopsided, boyish way of his that pulled at her heart. “You don’t intend to stay at my bedside all night, do you?”

She considered his words. “I might.”

“The bed is far more comfortable.” He scooted over, making space for her on the broad mattress. Indeed, there was plenty of room.

It would be a terrible lack of propriety to join him.

But then, they’d had no one in the room with them to protect her virtue. Or be a witness to such scandalous behavior either. After all, the staff knew that Elizabeth and Jasper were engaged, and regardless, any good employee did not share secrets.

An ache of discomfort had begun to burn at the back of Elizabeth’s spine, and the hard seat of the wooden chair was digging into her backside. The idea of lying down on the bed was indeed appealing.

The idea of doing so in Jasper’s arms was entirely irresistible.

Without letting herself question what she was doing, she slid off the chair and onto the mattress beside him, lying atop the covers as he rested beneath. Surely that was innocent enough, was it not?

He reached an arm around her shoulders and pulled her toward him so her head rested on the solid heat of his chest. His scent surrounded her, that sensual spice that made her blood go hot. Beneath the thin linen of his shirt, his heartbeat pounded deep and even against her cheek.

She had never been so close to a man before and was altogether entranced by the proximity. For this was not just any man, this was Jasper. The gentleman who had caught her attention the first time she saw him at the exact ball he’d first seen her, the gentleman who she had lied to her friends about having affection for, as she was certain he would want nothing to do with her.

“You’re right, this is far more comfortable,” she agreed, her words coming out like a purr.

His voice rumbled under her cheek as he replied, “I must truly have been concussed to have not thought of it before now.” His chuckle jostled her slightly.

“I’m glad you came here,” she admitted. “That we have this time to truly talk.”

Jasper’s hand stroked over her hair, likely still wild and loose from when she’d run out into the storm earlier. There was a quiet intimacy to allowing him to see her like this, a feeling she found she liked.

“When I told you I didn’t know if I could love, I hadn’t meant because of you,” Jasper said. “I meant in general. My parents accusations…they wounded me.”

“I understand that now.” Elizabeth scrunched her face with what she planned to confess, grateful she did not have to look at him as she spoke. “I never thought myself good enough for you, so when you said that…”

Jasper pulled back and looked down at her with incredulity. “I beg your pardon?”

She shrugged. “You have such an ease about you, always knowing exactly the right thing to say at the right moment. And you’re very sure-footed.” She gave a self-deprecating chuckle.

“I’ve learned to say the right thing to please people, to stay out from underfoot,” he admitted. “But I have never once thought myself too good for you. Quite the contrary. I thought a woman as kind and thoughtful, as beautiful and reputable as you, was far too good for the likes of me. Especially with the stain of my reputation.”

Her cheeks burned with the compliment, and she buried her face in his chest. “So much flattery.”

“So much truth.”

She looked up at him. “Perhaps we are just right for one another then, after all.”

He did not lower his head and kept staring at her, his dark eyes lit with a desire she now understood, as it was the same desire kindling in her own blood. “I’ve always noticed you,” he said. “I’ve always watched you, longed for you from afar.”

“I don’t believe you.” She laughed as she said it, her cheeks growing hot.

He shifted on the bed, putting his hand under the coverlets. When it emerged, there was a white silk ribbon curled in his hands. One that looked very like what she tied her stockings up with.

“Is that…?”

“Your ribbon that came loose from your stocking that night,” he confirmed.

She craned her neck up at him in surprise. “You truly kept it?”

“I’ve wanted you for so long, Elizabeth,” he whispered. “You’re beautiful, graceful?—”

“Graceful?” She laughed at that.

He chuckled, a low, sensual timbre she felt in the marrow of her bones. “One of my first impressions of you was how graceful you were.”

She raised her brows at him, skeptical. “I don’t hear that often.”

“You move like a dancer, all slender limbs…” He ran his fingertips over her arm, and shivers followed in the wake of his touch. “And your long, delicate neck.” His touch grazed up her throat to rest at her chin. “And the most beautiful face I’ve ever seen.”

Her cheeks burned with the sincere praise, and she merely lifted her shoulders in shy acknowledgment of his words.

“I’ve wanted you since I first saw you,” he repeated in a low voice. “But you were as out of my grasp as an angel in the heavens.”

“Until now,” she said in a coy tone.

The corner of his mouth tucked upward. “Until now.” He swallowed. “Do you recall that time at Lady Gentry’s ball last season when you spilled lemonade on me?”

Mortified, she leaned her head back. “How could I forget?”

“You were so diligent in trying to mop up the mess, you weren’t paying attention to where your hands were going,” he continued.

She groaned in humiliation.

“Your touch was accidental, but still you inadvertently stroked your hand over…” His voice was almost a whisper in the silent room and tapered off rather than say precisely the part of his body he referred to. “It was an innocent touch, but it burned me all the same. I thought about you every night since. Wondering if it had just been the two of us, how you might have helped me out of my clothes. How I might have helped you out of yours. How I might make you moan in pleasure. The way you did the night of our engagement party.” His gaze wandered toward her mouth and lifted up once more to meet her eyes. “The way you sounded when your body released was even more exquisite than I had dared to imagine.”

Her nipples tingled against her stays, that low pulse thrumming to life once more, warm between her legs where her body recalled the feel of his skilled fingers all too well.

“I never knew a touch could feel like that,” she confessed. “I…have thought of it often. Of you often.”

“Every night, I hope,” he said. “The way I think of you.”

She nodded and licked her lips, and his gaze dipped to her mouth once more.

He reached for her, and she stretched up the length of his body so their mouths met. He kissed as he had done before, his mouth moving over hers, his tongue teasing against her own.

This time, she was bold as she kissed him back, exactly as she had imagined being if she should have the chance again. She wanted to explore all of him, to savor his mouth, his touch, and to let her hands roam over his body as his had done with hers. To bring him pleasure as he had given so selflessly to her.

Jasper groaned as she kissed him back with fervor, deeper and hungrier than the groans he’d weakly emitted earlier when she found him outside by the tree stump.

At that thought, she pulled back abruptly. “Jasper, your head. We shouldn’t…”

“We absolutely should,” he growled, and pulled her against him. A hardness pressed against her hip, evidence of his desire for her. She melted against him, her protests dying on her lips, being kissed away so they were nothing more than a distant memory.

“I want you, Elizabeth.” He spoke against her neck, amid a string of kisses that left desire prickling on her skin and shivering deliciously down her spine.

And God, did she want him in return.