Jasper shot a glance toward the street which ran right outside his window and then exhaled when he saw no unfamiliar vehicles pulling up outside—or determined blokes hanging about.
“Off the record,” he said.
“Always, my friend.”
“I wasn’t waiting for her. She simply…” He waved a hand in the air. “Threw herself into my carriage. What was I to do, toss her back onto the street? In the rain, no less? She was being chased by a mob, by God. Said she feared for her life. And where did you learn this? Does anyone suspect it was me?”
Helton flicked the ash off his cheroot. “Not that I’ve heard. But as soon as I got wind of the description and the location, I naturally put two and two together… Why’d you go by Standish’s, anyhow? He and his countess are traveling.”
“Thought I’d see if Standish was up for a visit to Tattersall’s—forgot he’d be off with the wife.” Jasper grimaced, reminded of the errand he’d made before going to Standish. “I broke things off with Georgiana.”
“The lovely widow wasn’t thrilled about being cut loose, I take it?” Helton exhaled a measured stream of smoke and then flicked his glance to Jasper’s forehead.
Jasper rubbed at the bruise on his temple. A souvenir Georgiana had left him with at the end of the meeting—or more accurately, a souvenir left by the vase she’d flung at his head.
“Observant of you,” he said.
“I tried to warn you about that one. She’s had her eye on you for a husband all along,” Helton pointed out.
“You should have been more emphatic with your warnings.”
“Not my place.” Helton chuckled.
Jasper was going to have to be more careful in the future if he was to avoid ending up like his father.
Because women—all women—viewed wealthy titled gentlemen as the answer to all their troubles. Marriage to a privileged member of the aristocracy represented lifelong security.
Lady Gardenia’s terrified eyes came to mind. She might be one of the only young ladies in all of England unwilling to sell her soul to become a duchess. He’d worry if her actions had not already proven that she was genuinely averse to the institution.
Thank God.
Unfortunately, her mere presence at West House threatened both of their single statuses. There was always the possibility her father would demand Jasper marry her himself.
And pretty as she was, marriage was the very last thing on his agenda.
Jasper was happy to be married to his horses. Although they could be temperamental and costly, they were happy to miss out on all the ton events and, best of all, didn’t mind how much time he spent at his clubs.
Or what other pursuits he might be engaged in.
Yes, he’d far prefer spending his money on horses, stables, and designing courses than on the whims of a wife. His own father had left the barony broke, and why? To provide ridiculous frivolities for each of the ladies he’d married upon becoming a widower—the last, a woman who even now refused to move into the dower house while drawing on the exorbitant allowance his father had promised her. Jasper had already sent six letters over the past year asking her to vacate the main house. She’d written back, telling him that such a move was unnecessary—that until he married, there was no reason for her to be inconvenienced.
All the while, she’d known he had no plans to take a wife anytime soon.
Lady Gardenia’s innocent face flashed in his mind and his gut clenched.
Wives were liabilities. It was as simple as that. One he’d avoid until it was absolutely necessary.
“So what have you done with her?” Helton broke into Jasper’s thoughts.
“What have I done with who?”
“Dewberry’s missing bride.” Helton rolled his eyes.
“I’ve handed her off to Mrs. Charles. Once the girl comes to her senses, I’ll return her to Crossings’ Place.” He made the decision on the spot. “With the utmost of discretion, of course.”
Jasper didn’t ask for the other man’s opinion, but he knew he’d get it.
“One can hardly blame her, running off on Dewberry like that.” Helton leveled him a meaningful stare. “Malum’s banished him from the Emporium.”
