Relief washed over Matilda like cool water. At last, a task she could lose herself in, something useful, something untainted by the Duke of Harrow’s meddling.
“Of course,” she said at once, with more eagerness than she intended to show. “I would be glad to.”
Evelyn squeezed her hand. “Thank you, dearest. He is a good baby, but still—” She broke off with a fond little sigh. “It is all so very new.”
They parted for the night, with Evelyn retreating into her chambers while Matilda continued to her own. Once alone, she sank into her chair by the window, letting the quiet settle around her. Tomorrow would be simple. She could rock the infant, assist Evelyn, and hide herself from the whirl of company if she pleased.
And certainly, Jasper Everleigh would not intrude upon such a scene. A rakish duke with no inclination for family duties… hewould not be caught dead in the same room as a squalling babe unless forced.
Matilda allowed herself a small, satisfied breath. At last, some peace. A morning without his eyes upon her, without his voice provoking her into wit or worse…laughter.
Her heart steadied at the thought. Yes, tomorrow she would finally have quiet.
Or so she believed.
Chapter Twenty-Five
The following morning, Jasper found himself cornered in the east drawing room by Grayson, who seemed possessed of a single track mind these days.
“I’m telling you again, old boy,” Grayson declared, with his hands clasped behind his back as he paced before the tall windows, “I ought to make it a serious pursuit now. It is high time I settled.”
Jasper lounged in an armchair, stretching his legs with deliberate ease. “You make it sound as though you were considering a new horse, Grayson. A matter of purchase and paperwork. Cold business.”
“Not cold, just practical,” Grayson replied with a grin. “A man requires an heir, a household. Maybe even someone to balance him.”
Jasper snorted. “Balance? Sounds like shackles to me.”
Unfazed, Grayson continued, “You’ve only to look around. This house party is full of suitable ladies. I daresay one of them may do very well.”
Jasper lifted his brandy glass, though it was far too early for it, and took a slow sip. He had learned long ago that nothing stopped Grayson once he set upon a subject.
“I cannot recall you ever looking so intent upon anything, my friend,” Jasper drawled. “I have to admit, it thought this marriage thing was merely a passing fancy. But now, you’re beginning to sound like a man in love with matrimony itself, which is an affliction more dangerous than the pox.”
Grayson only laughed. “Mock me if you must. But I am determined.” He paused, as if considering something, then said far too casually, “What do you think of Lady Matilda?”
Jasper’s glass nearly slipped from his hand. The name hit him square in the chest, swift and brutal, as though someone had driven a fist clean through him. For an instant the room swam. He forced the sensation down, burying it beneath a laugh that sounded harsh even to his own ears.
“Lady Matilda?” He arched a brow. “Good God, Grayson. She would make a man’s life miserable.”
Grayson blinked in surprise. “Miserable? She seems perfectly respectable to me.”
Jasper leaned forward, his tone brisk, almost careless. “Respectable, yes. But she is also impossibly stubborn. Entirely too opinionated. Her tongue is sharper than any blade I have faced. She takes offense at everything, enjoys nothing, and insists upon seriousness to the point of tedium. A man would have no peace with her.”
Grayson chuckled, looking amused rather than deterred. “You speak with remarkable certainty. I do not recall you paying such close attention to any lady’s habits before.”
Jasper stiffened, then forced a shrug. “I pay attention when I must, which is now for the sake of a friend. I only mean to warn you, Grayson. Choose a better match. Someone softer, more pliable. Matilda Sterlington would drive you to ruin inside of a month.”
Grayson laughed again, unconvinced. “Softness has never been your taste, Jasper, though you pretend otherwise. I cannot recall you ever knowing a lady’s faults so well. Nor speaking of them with such… vigor.”
Jasper’s smile was quick, easy, untroubled. “You mistake me. It is not vigor, but honesty. I simply do not wish to see you undone.”
Grayson let it rest there, moving on to prattle about dowries and pedigrees. Jasper leaned back once more, outwardly composed. But inside, where no one could see, the echo of her name still reverberated, sharp as the blow that had first struck him.
He told himself it was nothing. That he cared nothing for whom Grayson considered. But a treacherous little voice deep down told him it might not be so.
Grayson set his glass down with a quiet clink. “There is another matter, if I may trouble you a little longer, Jasper. Business, this time.”
Jasper sighed, leaning back in his chair. “Better business than matrimony, I suppose. Go on.”
