Before today, Nia had cared mostly about fashion, the latest novel, and keeping up on her painting, pianoforte, and her study of languages. She would have been shocked at the mere idea of visiting such a place. But something had shifted inside of her the instant she sprinted out of that church. She felt like an entirely different woman.
The sort of woman who misbehaved. And now, she’d spent time with a courtesan!
“Why didn’t you tell me before?”
They were walking again, faster this time so Nia had to skip every few steps to keep up.
“Because you’re a lady. I didn’t want to send you into a fit of vapors,” he growled.
Being a lady had been Nia’s sole purpose in life. Now, she wasn’t sure if she was insulted or pleased.
She chose not to argue the point, however, because they’d crossed the yard and had arrived at a stable. She could see a carriage being hooked up through the large open doors.
“Where is Bard?” She glanced around.
“He’s being ridden back to my stables. You and I will be traveling by coach tonight.”
“So the duke is helping us, then?” Nia asked. "He knows where my sister and Lord Standish are?"
“Nearly ready, my lord,” one of the stable workers greeted Jasper.
“Excellent,” he said, leading her inside.
"Are we going to Cornwall tonight? That’s where we’ll cross from, isn’t it?”
"You're certainly full of questions." What was he keeping from her?
"I wouldn’t be if you had included me in the meeting." Nia bristled as Jasper led her over to the carriage. She was tired of being a pawn—of not having a say in her future—but would not argue the point in front of stable workers.
From a distance, the coach had resembled a hackney of sorts, however, close up, Nia realized it was, in fact, one of the newer, more luxurious models. Unlike most custom-made coaches, however, there was no emblem or crest to advertise the identity of the exalted person riding inside.
“Does it belong to him? This Duke of Malum person?” Was there a single man in all of England that she could trust? Because her father had said the duke was a depraved criminal, but then Jasper claimed he was a friend.
And Stella had all but sung his praises. Nia didn’t know what to think.
"Honestly, Nia, the less you know, the better. Suffice it to say, I have a plan. If you can hold off with these incessant questions for a few minutes, I’ll be happy to discuss the details once we're on the road again."
Nia stared into Jasper’s eyes for several seconds before finally answering. “Very well.” She then climbed into the vehicle and clamped her mouth shut.
Once inside, Nia took the far corner of the forward-facing bench, clutching the cloth bag that currently contained all her worldly possessions beside her. Jasper followed, and seconds after the door was closed behind him, the coach lurched into motion. Outside the well-sprung carriage, the street was dark but for the lamp stretched out to lead the driver and the glow of candles from a few of the windows in the houses that lined the road.
A thousand questions buzzed in Nia’s head. Everything about this was new. Foreign.
For years, she’d held her tongue rather than annoy her father. She’d not questioned him when he’d told her to accept Lord Rupert’s proposal, nor had she questioned him when he’d told her to encourage Dewberry. She could remember thousands of incidents when she’d followed instructions blindly, trusting that her parents knew best and that they had her best interests at heart.
Look where that had gotten her.
Today, for the first time in her life, she’d taken control of her own future. If she intended to maintain that control, she was going to have to do things differently than she had done before. Which meant she could not trust Jasper blindly. She needed answers to her questions.
"Are we going to find my sister and Lord Standish?" He’d not answered her the first time.
"We are not." Jasper had taken the bench across from her, and all she could see was his profile. And yet, the wary tone of his voice was enough to panic her.
"You cannot take me back.” The ringing in her ear, as well as utter exhaustion, had her on the verge of tears again. “Please.”
“Remember the rule.” His voice reached out from the darkness.
No crying.
