Chapter 15

CHAPTER

a

15

W in trotted up to the stables and a groom saw him approach. The boy came out to take his horse. He'd been gone since dawn, riding down one country lane after the next. Occasionally, when he passed through a village and espied a tavern, he'd stopped to enjoy an ale and a bite of food with the local men who were loafing in the middle of the day.

In the area surrounding Dartmouth, people knew who he was, but as he'd wandered farther from his own property, he'd grown more anonymous, which he liked. If it was assumed his was simply a common fellow, he learned all sorts of things about the kingdom and the wider world.

He'd continued until exhaustion and a change in the weather had forced him home. As the afternoon had progressed, the sky had clouded over and, by the time he'd reached the gate to the estate, a cold drizzle had been falling. He wasn't completely soaked, but he was chilled and grouchy.

He viewed himself as being very brave, but with how he'd slinked off for so many hours, he might not be the courageous figure he liked to envision. He'd ruined Charlotte when he shouldn't have, then he'd slithered away, rather than face her over the breakfast table.

While he'd been immersed in their passionate tryst, it had seemed perfectly logical to ask her to marry him, but in hindsight, it had been cruel and reckless. When he thought of the relationship he craved with her, he was giddy as a schoolboy, but he hadn't been free to propose. He didn't utter promises, then break them. He'd been bound to Jasmine for a year. He'd willingly signed the contracts with her father. No one had held a gun to his head. No one had extorted him.

Agatha had been his matchmaker, and she'd chosen the richest, most beautiful, most highborn girl who'd been available. Jasmine was precisely the candidate he'd hoped to wed. She'd been properly educated, properly trained to her pending duties, and he'd picked her for those qualities.

Charlotte had had the same type of rearing and education, but she was poor as a church mouse. She was estranged from her family and was a member of the merchant class. It was probably the biggest strike against her. He was a great believer that like should stick to like. Her low ancestry meant she couldn't be his countess.

The larger problem was that he hadn't discovered much about her, except for the very worst parts. He'd never met her sister or her deceased parents. He hadn't been introduced to any of her friends. She'd explained why she'd been teaching, but he had only her word for what had transpired to pitch her down Society's ladder.

Her mother had abandoned her husband and children to run away with a scoundrel. It was considered obscenely shocking and it had rendered her father unreliable and notorious.

Win was acquainted with one of her kin, Arthur Cronenworth, at his club in town, and Arthur was a gambler and wretch who was doing his darndest to beggar them. It was a powerful indicator that it wasn't a family worth joining. She was so far beneath Win in status that he never should have initiated an affair, but he had, and he would have to pay the price for his awful conduct.

He was about to wed Jasmine and he wouldn't cry off merely because he'd stumbled on someone he liked better. That would be deranged and he never behaved in a manner that was unhinged. He was the most steady, unflappable nobleman in the land and he wouldn't destroy that stellar reputation over a delightful fling.

Charlotte wasn't a suitable person for him to wed. She just wasn't, but he was so enamored that he'd begun to presume he could call a halt to what had been arranged by his mother and Jasmine's father.

He wasn't fickle; he didn't sway with the wind. He had a commitment to Jasmine, and while he'd proposed to Charlotte on the spur of the moment, he hadn't been in a position to proceed. It was a despicable admission, and he'd treated her egregiously, and he was sure—when he clarified what had occurred—she would never forgive him.

In light of how much he cherished her company, it would be a heavy burden to carry. He would put it in the vault of doubts and self-flagellation where he kept his guilt over Holden's death. Despite how Win liked to picture himself as decent and honorable, he had to accept that he was actually unprincipled and treacherous. He had to quit pretending.

He'd decided that he would finish raising Polly at Dartmouth. After how duplicitous he'd been to Charlotte, it would be a small comfort to her, and in the future, he wanted her to recollect that he'd taken that one paltry step to demonstrate his remorse.

Boggs emerged from the stables and Win said to him, "Are you heading to the manor? Shall we walk together?"

"I'm not going to the house. I've been watching for you. We've had some excitement and you should be apprised before you stroll in the door."

Win sighed. He was conflicted enough about Charlotte. He couldn't bear to deal with a major calamity the instant he arrived.

"What is it?" he asked. "What's happened?"

"Well, first—and I have no idea if you'll be concerned about this or not—the Dowager sent Polly away to school."

"She left already? I didn't realize it would be so fast. I'm fond of her and I didn't have a chance to say goodbye."

"There was a bit of a kerfuffle over it, with Miss Cronenworth concerned about her situation again. The people who fetched Polly were rude and belligerent, and there was some disagreement about her true destination. Miss Cronenworth was irked and needed some assistance, and she begged me to intervene, but I didn't see how I could. I had no desire to tangle with the Dowager about it."

Win grumbled with frustration. "I'll talk to Mother. I'll find out what she's planned. Is that it?"

"No. Lady Jasmine is here."

Win's heart dropped to his shoes. "Jasmine is here? We weren't expecting her."

"I didn't think you were and Miss Cronenworth was stunned to learn about her. She hadn't been informed that you were betrothed, and for some reason, she was very distraught about it."

Boggs was a stoic, enigmatic character. As Win's aide, he'd witnessed a ton of Win's mischief. He knew the family's secrets and he was adept at keeping them. He never gossiped or blabbed to others, so he was the perfect servant.

"Is Charlotte still on the premises?" Win forgot to maintain the pretense that they were casually acquainted. "She hasn't fled, has she?"

"No. I'm advised by her maid that she had intended to immediately depart, but she missed the day's public coach, so I predict she'll be on it tomorrow."

"Was she introduced to Jasmine? Have you heard?"

"I'm told Miss Cronenworth has locked herself in her bedchamber and is simply counting the minutes until she can escape."

Boggs was brimming with comments he'd like to spew, but he wouldn't dare. Thank goodness. Win grasped that it had been cruel to flirt with Charlotte and he didn't have to be scolded. Nor would it be appropriate for Boggs to berate him.

Just when Win figured he was safe from castigation, Boggs added, "I feel compelled to state that I had observed an illicit relationship bubbling up between the two of you. I warned her to be careful, but I didn't explain why , so she was completely blindsided."

Win was very pompous, and his initial impulse was to tell Boggs to mind his own business, but he swallowed down that caustic reprimand. Instead, he said, "It's clear I've disappointed you, which I hate to do. I set high standards for myself and I work hard to live up to them. I don't always succeed."

Boggs wasn't about to extend an olive branch. "I like Miss Cronenworth and I'm sorry for her reduced circumstances. Life is difficult for a woman and she's a fighter who's struggling to get by. I pity her, and I'm terrified over what will become of her now, but that's my final remark about the entire debacle." Boggs nodded toward the manor. "Why don't you continue on to the house? You have many pressing matters that require your attention, so I won't delay you further."

"I'll make this right," Win absurdly declared, being aware that he never could. "I'll fix this, so she's not overly harmed."

"I can't imagine how that would be managed," Boggs rudely replied, "but I will cross my fingers that she'll end up in a better spot than where she's currently located."

Boggs had pushed the limits of what Win would tolerate, so he whipped away and went into the stables. Win was eager to rush after him, to hurl some justifications for why he'd pursued Charlotte, but there was no excuse for his dastardly deceit, so he marched off in the other direction—to face the music.

He walked into the foyer and Agatha and Jasmine were chatting in the front parlor. He wanted to pretend he hadn't noticed them, wanted to sneak on by and dash up to speak with Charlotte, but he couldn't.

He stepped into the doorway. They were seated together on the sofa and they glanced up in unison. Jasmine smiled her cool, icy smile. It never looked genuine, and he couldn't decide if she was never truly happy or if she thought a display of gladness would be gauche.

"Winston! There you are," she said.

"Hello, Jasmine."

She stood and offered her cheek and he dutifully sauntered over and planted a kiss on it. It was a quaint ritual in which they regularly engaged. It was the only type he'd ever bestowed. He wouldn't have dared a full-on, passionate kiss on the lips or he might have mussed her hair and she'd have been angered.

She drew away and eased down next to Agatha, saying to him, "I'm relieved that you'll be here for supper. The servants said you were riding and no one could tell us if or when you'd be back."

"What brings you to the country?" he asked. "You constantly grouse about how you're bogged down with wedding chores in town. Aren't you busy?"

"I have a hundred issues to discuss with your mother and a hundred questions to discuss with you about your preferences. I could have written about it, but I would have had to pen a letter twenty pages long. It occurred to me that I might as well visit and personally obtain the answers I seek."

"As I told you when you began planning the celebration, I don't care what you choose. It's your big day and whatever you like is fine with me. You didn't have to journey all this way merely to have me repeat myself."

His tone was petulant and she frowned. "I won't insist I came because I missed you. Nor will I mention how you never visit me in London, but I shouldn't have to invent reasons to call on my betrothed."

He reined in his burst of temper. "I apologize. You're welcome to travel to Dartmouth whenever you like." He shifted his focus to Agatha. "I just heard that Polly left."

"Yes, this morning."

Jasmine asked, "Who is Polly?"

Agatha responded before he could. "She's an orphaned daughter of a distant cousin. I was pressured to be her guardian and I reluctantly agreed. I don't know her and I barely knew her mother. I'm not very enthused about my role and I sent her to school."

"In the summer?" Jasmine said.

"I have her board, even during their breaks. It's less of a hassle for me."

Win butted in with, "I wish you'd conferred with me first. I'm fond of her, and I'd like her to stay at Dartmouth with us, so I'll convey her back. It's ridiculous for her to waste away with strangers."

Agatha tsked with offense. "You're about to be a husband and Jasmine will be assuming control of the manor, so you'll both be taking on new and exhausting burdens. You don't need to have an urchin around and underfoot."

"I want information about the school," Win firmly stated. "You previously promised to have Miss Havistock provide it, but I haven't received it. Please be sure she has it for me tomorrow."

Agatha rolled her eyes, then teasingly said to Jasmine, "He can be a real bear when he's grumpy. I hope you grasp what you're getting yourself into by marrying him. Are you prepared to handle his sour moods?"

Jasmine grinned. "I've had plenty of practice in managing my father, so I won't have any trouble managing my spouse."

They chuckled as if Jasmine was a great wit, then they gazed up at him. Their expressions were nearly identical, and for a moment, he couldn't breathe. It dawned on him that Jasmine was very much like his mother: detached, aloof, and even a tad cruel.

By most measures, she'd be the perfect wife for him, but he was about to wind up in the sort of unhappy, unsatisfying union his father had had with Agatha. And if Win actually sired a few babies with Jasmine, he pitied the childhood she would furnish to them.

When he reflected on his own childhood, he recalled it as being very quiet, very lonely. He'd never interacted with his parents, had hardly ever spoken to them. Was that the kind of family he'd build with Jasmine? Was that the kind of mother he sought for his sons? Would they be boys who ended up just as lonely as he had been?

Usually, he never considered such frivolous subjects. He'd simply studied the lives of others in their social class and had walked the same path. He was at a spot where it would be impossible to cry off, and he tried to picture himself telling Jasmine he was jilting her, but he couldn't fathom it.

"Would you excuse me?" he said. "The weather turned and I'm chilled to the bone. I have to dry off and warm up, then dress for supper."

"Must you go up?" Jasmine inquired. "I have so many stories to share about the past week."

"We can talk later."

Her smile slipped, but she hastily pasted it back in place. She didn't like it when he failed to act as she expected. She was young and would figure she could change him, but over the decades, after she was forced to admit that she couldn't change him, she'd never forgive him for disappointing her.

He spun and hurried away. He had to locate Charlotte, but he had no idea how he could wipe away his sin. He was a liar and a cad, a deceitful wretch, and it was futile to pretend he was anyone else.

v

"Is Miss Cronenworth upstairs?"

Jasmine asked the question, watching as Agatha went over to the doors and pulled them shut, so they could gossip about Winston in private.

"I presume she's there," Agatha replied. "She mostly hides up in her suite."

"She was given a suite?" Jasmine bristled. "Isn't she a schoolteacher? Why isn't she sleeping in the attic with the servants?"

"Winston is very besotted. He ordered the housekeeper to put her there, so I couldn't argue about it."

"This sounds more serious than I realized, but a teacher! Honestly. What is he thinking?"

"She's very beautiful and she's from a once-wealthy family, so she was properly raised and educated, but she's fallen on hard times. The estate Winston might buy you as your bride gift? Peachtree Haven? It was her childhood home."

Jasmine snickered maliciously. "So it will be mine instead of hers? I suppose there's some poetic justice in that arrangement. I'll have to find a way to rub it in, so I can distress her. If she imagines she's entitled to interfere with my engagement, then I should get to make her regret it."

"I mentioned Peachtree, so you comprehend what we're dealing with as far as Winston's infatuation. She's very assertive, very intriguing. I've only met with her once and she was extremely impressive."

"Quit singing her praises. It's so aggravating. Why did they lose Peachtree?"

"Have you heard of the shipping company, HH Imports?"

"No, should I have?"

"Your father would remember it. Her father, Harold, was the owner, but since he passed away, their fortunes have plummeted. Ages ago, they had a very public scandal, when Harold's wife ran off with her lover."

Jasmine blanched. "Miss Cronenworth's mother, do you mean?"

"Yes, so she has bad blood flowing in her veins. Normally, I wouldn't fret over one of Winston's dalliances, but his focus on her is beyond the pale."

"I'm very disturbed about this. We're about to wed, and at the last minute, I shouldn't have to endure such blatant disrespect. I'm wondering what kind of marriage I'll have with your son."

"I've explained what kind you'll have. He will honor and esteem you, as is your due, but he will always be tempted by a pretty face. You'll have to learn to ignore his peccadilloes. If you won't or can't, you'll be very miserable."

She'd been told the very same thing by her father. Winston would revel with slatterns and she had to wear blinders and tolerate his mischief. He was the richest, handsomest nobleman to appear on the Marriage Market in years, and when she'd discovered he was interested in her, she'd jumped at the chance. But she was struggling with the fact that there were aspects to his character she didn't like.

Why shouldn't he have to behave in a manner that pleased her? Why was it the woman's burden to accept the man's flaws?

She complained, "It's not fair that a husband can cheat and philander and a wife has to suffer the shame of it."

"Men are dogs, Jasmine. If their lust is burning hot, they don't care if they're shaming you. Winston will never carry on as you're hoping."

Agatha uttered the pronouncement as if it was the wisest piece of advice Jasmine would ever receive. Maybe it was, but she yearned to have a husband who was madly in love with her, who would dote on her and treat her like a goddess. Agatha had been clear that Winston would never fawn over her, so she couldn't claim she'd been tricked, but she was wishing she'd extracted a few promises from him prior to forging ahead.

He should have had to swear he wouldn't have mistresses or dabble with trollops, but she couldn't have initiated such a damning conversation, so she was stuck praying he wouldn't be too much of a scoundrel.

"Will Miss Cronenworth join us for supper?" she asked. "Will I have to sit at the same table with her?"

"No. My maid informs me that she's indisposed and won't be down. Her bag is packed, so she's slithering off in the morning."

Jasmine clucked her tongue with offense. "Have I traveled here for no reason?"

"Definitely not. Your arrival has accomplished two goals. It has devastated Miss Cronenworth into departing and it will force Winston to recollect how inappropriately he's acting."

"I intend to see her before she slinks away. I have to decide how thoroughly I've been betrayed."

"You haven't been betrayed. I'd prefer to say your presence will prevent further nonsense from occurring."

"What about the girl, Polly? When you notified me that she was staying with you, I nearly fainted."

"She left earlier. After breakfast."

Jasmine had agreed to every term specified in the marital contracts, but she absolutely would not have a bastard daughter roaming the halls. She wouldn't be a stepmother, wouldn't raise a child sired in such illicit circumstances. It was outrageous to imagine she might have to.

Her mother, Florence, had been Agatha's closest friend, and when the debacle had developed, Agatha had confided in Florence and had followed Florence's suggestions.

Florence had been adamant that the baby should be hidden away, that Winston should never know about her, and Agatha had heartily concurred. They'd recognized that, if he'd been apprised of her existence, he might have demanded to be a fond father, which would have been galling and ridiculous.

Agatha would have delivered her to an orphanage, as was the typical method for dealing with such an untenable birth, but Winston's aide, Boggs, had butted his nose into the whole sorry business.

To placate Boggs, Agatha had sent the girl to school, and with her boarding there, no issues had ever arisen. Then Miss Cronenworth had shown up with her.

Jasmine's father had signed the nuptial contracts, but he'd also signed a second, secret one with Agatha that the girl would never be brought forward to darken Jasmine's marriage. It wasn't Agatha's fault that Miss Cronenworth had waltzed in out of the blue, but Jasmine couldn't help but blame her.

Agatha had let Boggs blackmail her, and Jasmine didn't understand why Agatha had succumbed to pressure from a servant, but Boggs's damage had been done. The girl was still flitting about on the edge of Jasmine's world.

"What did you think of Miss Ludlow?" Jasmine asked, Miss Ludlow being the woman who'd fetched the girl away.

"I didn't meet with her. I previously spoke to her brother, after you recommended them. That was enough for me."

Jasmine's father was acquainted with Mr. Ludlow. He was a merchant in town who supplied soaps and other hygienic products to the very best families. He wasn't exactly a ragpicker, so the girl was lucky to have been offered such an acceptable situation.

She was a tad young to be a bride, but Jasmine didn't suppose the union would be consummated right away. They'd probably ease her into their routines and customs, so Jasmine figured the ceremony would be held in a few years. But ... !

Whatever happened in the Ludlow home, she wasn't concerned about it and it was none of her affair.

Once Agatha had consented to it being the Ludlows, Jasmine had paid Mr. Ludlow a hefty dowry to take the girl off their hands. The only stipulation was that he never contact them about her for any reason, and he'd grabbed the money and vanished.

"Miss Ludlow whisked her off to London?" Jasmine said. "She's gone for good?"

"Gone for good."

"I'm delighted to hear it." She stood and started out. "If you were hoping to continue our chat, I apologize, but I'll need extra time to dress for supper."

"You always need extra time for everything."

"Yes, but in case Miss Cronenworth surprises us by staggering down for the meal, I must look incredibly splendid."

"It's why I invited you to Dartmouth," Agatha said. "I wanted her to be shocked into leaving."

"If she isn't actually planning to creep away tomorrow, she'll change her mind after she lays eyes on me."

"I'm positively sure of it," Agatha agreed.

Jasmine smirked imperiously and sauntered out.