CHAPTER TWELVE

T he winter sun was blinding as Charlotte opened her eyes. She must have forgotten to have Sally draw the curtains last night.

Yawning and stretching her hands above her head, she snuggled further into the sheets. They had never felt so comfortable, or so luxurious, she thought.

And they smelled different. Clean and infinitely pleasant. But definitely different.

Confused, she cracked her eyes open and froze. Looking around at the deep gold of the wallhangins, at the intricate carvings on the four poster bed, she realized that this was not her bedchamber.

Sitting up with a start, she took in the roaring fire in the hearth, the cup of steaming chocolate on the bed, and the unfamiliar, luxurious nightgown on her body.

And then, it all came flooding back. That awful evening at the gardens. The fountain. And Jasper! Jasper rescuing her. Jasper sitting her in his lap.

Jasper calling her love.

She gasped aloud. She must be at his house. There was no other explanation. And that meant she’d stayed here all night.

Oh, no. No, no, no.

Her mother and father would be fit to be tied.

Her reputation would be well and truly destroyed.

Mama would never forgive her. Papa would never see or speak to her again. She would be cast out. Ex-communicated. She’d never be allowed to see Jasper or the twins again.

Unbidden, a flood of tears came to her eyes and before she knew it, they were spilling down her cheeks. Her nerves were shattered, her heart and head pounding, vying for most pained and she simply did not know what to do.

When a knock sounded on the door of the bedchamber she screeched in fright, half afraid to see who was on the other side.

But she couldn’t lie here hiding forever, she knew that. And so, braving whatever was about to happen, she called out for them to come in.

Her poor, overworked heart stopped dead in its tracks when the door swung open and Jasper stood there, tall, perfectly groomed, and heart-achingly handsome.

“Good morning,” he began with a smile. “I – Charlotte, what’s wrong? Are you sick? I knew I should have called a doctor. What can I do? Where does it hurt, love?”

She watched in silent astonishment as he darting toward her, sitting on the bed, and hualing her into his arms.

He didn’t seem to care that this was most definitely not appropriate. Nor did he seem to notice that he was acting like a fussing mother hen.

He buried her face against his neck and made soothing noises as he rubbed her back. “I’ll get a doctor,” he promised, voice stricken. “And a nurse. And – and anything else you need. I –“

“Jasper,” she managed to interrupt his panicked rambling long enough to have him pull back to look down at her. “What is going on?”

He frowned. “You’re not sick?” he asked. Demanded, really.

“No,” she answered. “Just confused.”

His relief was palpable as he breathed a sigh of relief. But if she expected him to let her go, she was mistaken. Without a care to propriety, he rearranged them so he was sitting back against the headboard, and Charlotte was one more firmly in his lap.

“This is highly inappropriate,” she sniffed with as much dignity as one could manage in a borrowed nightgown.

“Hmm. And you know I am a stickler for propriety,” he answered with faux sincerity.

Charlotte looked at him, amazed at his cavalier tone. There was something about him this morning. A lightness but also a sort of nervous energy that she couldn’t place.

Last night he’d been so angry but this morning it was as though a weight was off him. It was bizarre to say the least.

“I shouldn’t be here,” she whispered, panic once more setting in. “My mother –“

“Your mother received a note last night from Joanna saying that you had fallen ill at dinner while I was at my club. That you had been put to bed with assurances from a doctor that it was a passing headache, and that you would be returned good as new this morning.”

She stared at him only managing an “oh”. It seemed he’d thought of everything.

“But why am I here?” she asked. “How am I here?”

“You fell asleep in my arms last night,” he answered softly. “Something that I very much enjoyed, by the way, and would like to be repeated regularly. And since you looked a little – er – unkept from your adventure with the fountain, we thought it prudent to keep you here under the guise of illness. The girls set off this morning to visit with your Mama and assure her that you’re alive but resting.”

She watched his face closely for any sign of the anger she’d seen last night but there was none.

“Are you not angry anymore?” she asked timidly.

“Oh, I’m furious,” he answered cheerfully. “With the twins. With the bastard who put his hands on you. With the bastard who brought you there in the first place.”

“A-and with me?” she pressed, afraid of the answer but needing it just the same.

“Not with you,” he said, stroking an errant curl from her face. “Never with you. You took care of my foolish sisters when they didn’t know to take care of themselves. You trusted me enough to seek my help when you needed it. And you managed to be a source of light when last night could have been so very, very dark.” He broke into a grin. “I don’t think I’ll ever recover from the image of you trying to drown a drunken poet in a fountain.”

“I didn’t try to drown him,” she contested, feeling her cheeks heat. “I made sure he could breathe.”

Her words earned her a full-blown laugh, her favorite one by far.

A silence fell between them but it wasn’t at all uncomfortable. In fact, Charlotte could have stayed there for days, just in his arms. But reality would need to be addressed eventually.

“What now?” she asked. “I suppose I should borrow a gown and return home lest Mama come searching for me.”

“Yes, I suppose you should,” he answered. “And,” he added with purposeful calm, “I think I should accompany you.”

“You?” she asked surprised, “but why?”

“Oh, because I have to speak to your father about marrying you,” he said so casually that it took a moment for the words to sink in. When they did, she thought her heart would fly from her chest. “Wh-what?”

“Well, I confess I don’t exactly think he’s much of a father and I certainly have no respect for how he’s treated either of his daughters, to be frank. But there are still steps that must be taken with these things.”

“What things?” she asked breathlessly.

“Marriage, my love. Marriage things. I realize you have no experience with this stuff. And I know your sister’s marriage was a little unorthodox, but there are still discussions to be had. I don’t need your dowry of course, but it might be nice to have for any daughters. That’s assuming you even have one, which you mightn’t. And then there’ll be announcements and the banns and –“

“Jasper!” Her exasperation couldn’t be contained. Her heart desperately wanted to believe that this was real but it seemed to good to be possible.

“Yes, love?” he asked.

“ Why are you saying all of this? Do you – are you saying you want to marry me?”

“What else would I be saying?” he asked innocently.

“But – but I’m ruined.” She sat up so that she could turn and fully look at him. “My name is in the mud. I am shunned everywhere I go. Everybody hates me.”

Jasper leaned forward and placed a finger against her lips. “No,” he said gently. “Everybody doesn’t hate you. And what did I tell you about the sheep of the ton, hmm?”

Charlotte felt her eyes smart again. “It never troubles a wolf, how many the sheep be,” she whispered.

His eyes filled with a sort of loving pride. “Exactly. And you, my love, you are the wolf.”

She released a jagged sob as his words filled her heart.

“And as to your question, about why I want to marry you,” he continued softly. “That’s easy. I want to marry you because I am hopelessly in love with you. Because you are the other half of my soul and the entirety of my heart. Because you brought fun back into my life. Isn’t that reason enough?”

Charlotte couldn’t speak, simply could not speak as his words, his wonderful, beautiful words sank in and filled every part of her that had ever been made to feel like she should be ashamed. Every part of her that had been told she was unworthy.

For here she was, with the love and adoration of the best man in the world.

“Well?” he demanded a little nervously, she thought. “Is that reason enough?”

Gathering herself as best she could, Charlotte smiled at him. “If you’ll recall, I said that I would only marry if I loved someone with the entirety of my being.”

She was watching so closely that she saw the moment a sort of blind panic set in, but she couldn’t bring herself to tease him or keep him in suspense a moment longer.

Climbing back into his lap, she wrapped her hands around his neck and whispered. “Isn’t it a good thing, then, that I have love you that much and so very much more?”

She allowed herself one moment to enjoy the relief and sheer elation on his face before she pressed her lips against his own.

The kiss, like always, quickly raged out of control. But this time, they were alone, in a bed, with nobody around to disturb them. And there they stayed for many, many hours.