Greyson shot him a flat look. “Do not say it.”
Jasper’s grin widened. “Ah. So, more has happened. And I know nothing of it!”
Greyson suppressed the urge to simply step into the carriage and close the door in Jasper’s face. “I visited my mother. She had a good morning. That is all.”
Jasper’s expression softened with sincere warmth. “That is wonderful.”
Greyson inclined his head once, accepting the genuine kindness beneath Jasper’s usual irreverence.
“And now,” Jasper continued, eyes narrowing shrewdly, “you are hurrying… home? Why the rush? A meeting with your steward? A matter requiring your ducal attention?”
“No.”
Jasper’s smile sharpened. “Hazel?”
Greyson’s jaw clenched, betraying infinitesimal movement.
Jasper nearly glowed with triumph. “ItisHazel! By God, Greyson, you practically sprinted down those steps. Does she know you are coming to her like a lovesick?—”
“Finish that sentence,” Greyson said darkly, “and I will see to it your next pair of boots is filled with gravel.”
Jasper clutched his heart. “Threats! How emotional of you. Hazel has changed you entirely.”
“She has not.”
“Oh, she absolutely has?—”
“Jasper,” Greyson bit out, growing dangerously close to exasperation, “I would like to go home.”
“Greyson,” Jasper said gently, “Hazel is becoming home for you, isn’t she?”
A muscle in Greyson’s jaw jumped. He was in no mood for confessions right now, not before he had spoken with Hazel.
“I am returning to my residence,” he corrected himself.
“Of course,” Jasper said cheerfully, “where the duchess resides, and where you cannot wait another minute to be.”
Greyson exhaled sharply through his nose. “Jasper, if you do not step aside, I will?—”
“Yes, yes, unspeakable violence, you threaten it beautifully.” Jasper patted his shoulder with infuriating affection. “Go on, then. Run home to her.”
“I am not running.”
“You are practically galloping.”
Greyson gave him a look so icy it could have frozen the Thames, then stepped into the carriage and pulled the door shut.
Jasper stuck his head through the window before the driver could move. “Send Hazel my love!”
Greyson shoved the window shutter closed with a snap. But as the carriage rolled away, with Jasper’s grin still lingering in the air behind him, Greyson could not deny that hewaseager to reach home.
The carriage ride was hasty, and it had barely rolled to a stop before Greyson pushed the door open himself, descending with more haste than any duke ought to display in front of his servants. He didn’t care.
The footman straightened at once. “Welcome home, Your Grace.”
Greyson nodded curtly, already surveying the entry hall behind the servant.
“Is the duchess at home?” The question came out sharper than intended, almost demanding.
