He nodded, accepting what she said, but then
he moved forward with an intent look. “You said you lived with your
mother seven years. Why did you move from Devon?”
Though she wanted to be honest with him, some
things were too painful to reveal. She couldn’t tell him Mildred
had thrown her out after learning her husband was Olivia’s father,
even if that proved to be false. Olivia offered a half-truth
instead. “My aunt never particularly cared for me. Raising her
half-sister’s—her half-whore-sister’s—child was a burden she never
accepted. I left.”
His lips formed a grim line. “I don’t think
that’s everything. By now, you should realize I’m quite aware of
when you withhold information.”
“Like you refusing to tell me about why you
fight?” She stepped toward him, afraid of the answer to her next
question, but determined to ask it anyway. “Did the duke…beat
you?”
He stared at a spot over her head, saying
nothing.
Her frustration mounted. “Tell me
why
.
I can’t reconcile this violent nature of yours with your other
attributes, which include a vast generosity for those less
fortunate. ” She knew from her experience with Fiona that some men
just needed violence. The way others needed love. The question
tripped from her lips. “Do you need to fight to feel…whole?”
His gaze turned frigid. “I had wanted to
speak with my aunt as well, but as she has not yet returned, I
shall call tomorrow instead.” He stepped around her, careful to
make a wide swath, and left.
She turned and watched him go, disappointed
that despite what they’d shared at Benfield, neither one of them
was ready to trust.
JASPER rushed from Louisa’s townhouse, nearly
stumbling down the front stairs. He wished he hadn’t allowed Sevrin
the use of his phaeton. Without it, he couldn’t very well make a
rapid escape.
Why had Olivia kept on him about the
fighting? He understood she didn’t like it, given what she’d
endured with her mother, but what he did had nothing to do with
her. Wouldn’t ever have anything to do with her after he quashed
any gossip about her and married Lady Philippa.
What really bothered him, however, was that
he couldn’t answer her question. Why
did
he fight? He’d long
enjoyed the sport, but at the Black Horse it had become something
more. Upon reflection, he realized he’d visited the back room of
the tavern
every day
since joining, whether to fight or
merely to watch. And the thought of not going speared his insides,
though he knew that day would come. How would he explain this
hobby, the various bruises and cuts, to his new wife?
His aunt’s coach pulled to a halt in the
street.
Bollocks
. Though he’d initially come to speak with
her, he now preferred to avoid her. His interview with Olivia had
been unexpected, and her interrogation as well as her evocative
presence had quite upset his equanimity. He needed to maintain some
semblance of composure for his appointment with Philippa. Talking
with his aunt about her lack of faith in him would only further
threaten his ability to remain in control.
The coachman leapt down to open the door.
Jasper had no choice but to paste a smile upon his taut face. A
smile that promptly vanished as the duke stepped from the carriage.
What was left of his poise slipped another notch.
“Saxton.” Derision marked his tone. “You’re
just leaving?”
Jasper’s temple began to throb. “Yes, I’ve an
appointment with Lady Philippa.” Though the thought of it at this
moment only contributed to his oncoming headache.
“I presume you’ve come to see your aunt, but
here she is.” He helped Louisa down and scanned the street. “Where
is your vehicle? You can’t have been here long enough to send it to
the mews, unless you’ve been awaiting Louisa for some time.”
Louisa gave her brother a derisive glance.
“Perhaps he’s been visiting with Olivia. How is she? She had a bit
of the headache earlier.” Louisa stared at Jasper’s mouth. “Oh my,
what happened to your lip, dear?”
“Er, nothing.”
The duke directed him a pointed, assessing
look, but didn’t address the injury. His lack of comment was
suspicious. “Hmm, something must be in the air. Your mother left
tea with an aching head.”
“That’s why you’re with Louisa, then?” Jasper
was surprised the duke hadn’t demanded the coachman drop him at
Holborn House first.
“And to see her home. Her ankle is paining
her a bit.” He cast a dark glance at Jasper. “I do have a care for
my sister. As you seem to for Miss West. I trust she’s feeling
better?”
Jasper had to admit to seeing her, though he
knew his father was ferreting for just this information. “Yes, she
is well.”
The duke’s eyes narrowed. Definitely
processing, and by the look of it, judging this knowledge. “Since
you’re on your way out, I’ll drop you at Herrick House for your
appointment. Unless you’re waiting for your horse or phaeton?”
Normally Jasper would’ve preferred to
walk—all the way to York—than ride with his father, but he couldn’t
ignore the warnings sounding in his head. The duke was dangerous
when inquisitorial, and Jasper didn’t like that he’d set his sights
on Olivia—it was the very thing they needed to avoid.
Louisa frowned slightly. She hadn’t missed
the tension between father and son. “I’m sorry I missed your visit,
Jasper.”
“It’s quite all right. I’ll call on you
tomorrow.” He bussed her cheek before following his father into the
dim interior of Louisa’s coach.
The duke wasted no time in launching an
attack. Of course he couldn’t let Jasper’s battered lip go
unremarked upon. “I know you’re not fighting at Jackson’s, yet
nearly every time I see you of late you’re displaying some sort of
injury. Either you’ve become the clumsiest man in England, or
you’re fighting somewhere else. And poorly I might add, given the
way you look most of the time.”
“Not clumsy.”
“Where?”
“Nowhere you’d know. Why did you really
escort Louisa home?” Jasper hadn’t believed the duke’s declaration
that he
cared
. No, he likely had far more nefarious motives.
Motives that perhaps involved Olivia.
“Your mother and I are suspicious of Miss
West. Her sudden appearance and immediate acceptance by Louisa are
troubling. We don’t recall a vicar in Merriweather’s extended
family.”
“You could be mistaken.” Jasper worried it
was already too late to keep Olivia’s background secret.
The duke barked a hollow laugh. “Not bloody
likely. She’s got to be an imposter.”
Perhaps there was a way to circumvent
Holborn’s suspicions. “I had the same thought. I dispatched an
investigator as soon as she arrived. I expect information any
day.”
Holborn’s eyes widened. He grunted
with…approval? “I’m surprised you thought of it. Pleased, but
surprised.”
It was as much of a compliment as Jasper had
ever received from the man. “I wouldn’t worry about Miss West.
She’s of little consequence. I don’t believe she has any particular
ambition, nor does she seem to covet Louisa’s fortune.”
“So she says. Oh yes, she gave your mother
and me the same pretty speech. I still don’t trust her. Probably
that God awful ginger hair.”
Jasper sought to keep his temper in check. “I
will share the report when I receive it from my investigator.”
The duke leaned back against the squab.
Sunlight filtered through the window and glinted in his sapphire
eyes. “You’ve a particular interest in this girl, but you know
she’s not good enough.”
“Of course not.” Though in his mind he knew
what the duke said was true, admitting it aloud scraped at his
insides. “I plan to marry Lady Philippa. We are, in fact, on our
way to her house,” he added with more than a touch of irony.
Holborn snorted. “Very well. When do you plan
to announce? Her Grace and I will host a dinner of course.”
“I plan to speak plainly with Lady Philippa
today. Her father is currently in Oxfordshire attending to estate
matters, but I believe she plans to write to him to request his
return.”
“Indeed? This day is full of revelation about
my wayward son. Perhaps you’ll manage to come up to snuff after
all.”
The coach halted in front of Herrick House.
Before Jasper could escape, the duke said, “I’ll be waiting on that
report. If it’s lacking, I’ll send my own man to discern the chit’s
true identity. I won’t put up with some gutter-born pretender
riding the Holborn coattails. And you’d do best to stay away from
her. Visiting her without Louisa’s chaperonage will land you in
precisely the same predicament as ten years ago. If it hasn’t
already.” He delivered a probing stare that churned Jasper’s
simmering ire into full-blown rage.
Without a word, he exited and stood on the
sidewalk until the duke had pulled away. Jasper was in no condition
to see Lady Philippa, but she was expecting him. He had to get his
emotions under control. God, he hated that the duke was right about
him. He hadn’t been able to keep his hands off Olivia and,
questionable background or not, she hadn’t deserved to be
ruined.
Olivia’s questions echoed in his mind. Did he
need this violence to be whole? He’d always believed his father had
needed to exert physical superiority in order to maintain
control—their relationship had worsened after the duke realized he
couldn’t literally force Jasper to his will anymore. Was Jasper no
better?
Suddenly, his long-held doubt of Olivia
sickened him. Who cared if she was a Nobody from some backwater
village? Hadn’t his sister found happiness with just such a person?
A gentleman with no title, no fortune, and no approval from
Holborn. Furthermore, Louisa needed a companion and by all
accounts, Olivia fit the bill. Perfectly. Jasper believed what he’d
just said about her character. She was without guile and seemed to
genuinely care for Louisa. Whereas he was a blackguard cut in the
image of his father.
Reluctantly he made his way up the steps to
Herrick House. With spectacular effort, he quashed his emotions and
summoned his most charming smile. His objectives were simple:
ensure Olivia and Louisa were undisturbed and happy, marry Lady
Philippa, and keep his hands off Olivia.
JASPER ARRIVED at Louisa’s townhouse rather
early the next morning. The conversation with his aunt couldn’t
wait another moment. Her lack of faith was slowly eating away at
him, and coupled with yesterday’s encounter with Holborn, he’d
completely bungled his call on Lady Philippa. He hadn’t discussed
the engagement at all. He’d reasoned that he needed to solve the
problems surrounding Olivia first. Then he could focus on Lady
Philippa.
Bernard admitted him to the Rose Room where
Louisa would join him momentarily. Jasper stood before the painting
of Merriweather Hall. Remarkable how the roses and vines perfectly
matched the box Olivia had in her possession. A gift from Merry to
his lover.
Jasper tried to imagine his kindly uncle
chasing after an actress of Fiona Scarlet’s infamy. Merry had been
handsome, Jasper supposed, but without the bearing or stature of
someone who would command attention. He’d been intellectual and
witty, as well as artistic, of course. Perhaps that was the part of
his nature that had appealed to the actress—and what had driven him
to pursue her.
Later he’d met and fallen in love with
Louisa, and Jasper could truly think of no two people more meant
for each other. He knew Louisa missed him terribly and understood
why she would want to find his daughter—and never let her go.
“Why, Jasper, this is an early call!” Louisa
hummed into the room with a bright smile.
Jasper met her in front of the settee and
kissed her cheek. “Good morning, Aunt. I’m afraid I have a few
things to discuss with you, and they couldn’t wait.”
Her forehead creased. “This sounds serious,
dear. Shall I ring for tea?”
“No, thank you. Let’s just sit.” He gestured
to the settee and then joined her there.
Now that the moment was here, he couldn’t
seem to find the words.
Why did you lie to me
? seemed harsh.
Why don’t you trust me
? sounded needy. He settled for, “I
know the truth about Olivia.”
She scarcely reacted to what he said, merely
tipped her head to the side. “And what is that?”
She couldn’t mean to continue lying to him?
Jasper suppressed his frustration. “I know she isn’t Merry’s
cousin. She’s his daughter.”
Louisa pursed her lips. “Olivia told you
this?” She didn’t look upset at all. Perhaps just a touch
disappointed.
Jasper’s temper pricked. “Yes, but only
because I learned some telling facts about her and she had to
confess. Louisa, I don’t think you contemplated this ruse very
thoroughly.”