“In addition to West House, my townhouse in Mayfair, I have a country estate near Southampton,” he began cautiously. “Somerland Castle. But… it is currently occupied by my father’s widow.”
“The present Baroness Westcott.”
“Yes.” Jasper frowned. He hated that Lavinia held the title.
“And…?” Nia prodded.
“The current baroness has… It’s been five years since my father’s death and…” How could he explain his father’s poor choices in words that wouldn’t offend this naïve young woman? “She has dug her heels in there. Every time I suggest she move into the dowager house, she insists there are dire reasons to delay doing so. Initially, she claimed it was too small, then she insisted the furnishings were outdated. There are not enough servants. The flowers in the garden offend her senses.” Jasper rolled his eyes. “The light from the windows is all wrong.”
“But doesn’t a widow have the right to remain there until you take a wife?” Nia sounded more than a little disapproving.
“Under normal circumstances, yes. But I didn’t approve of her marrying my father. Which, of course, did nothing to stop him. And Lavinia…” Jasper pinched the bridge of his nose. How did one describe a woman who was also a leech?
“She is not your mother?” Nia asked. “But did she not take part in raising you?”
Ah, the complicated part.
“No.” Jasper hadn’t expected to discuss any of this with her. But they had at least three more days of sitting in this carriage. He exhaled. “My mother died when I was ten. Following that, my father worked his way through three more wives before his death five years ago. Lavinia was your age when they married, and they only lived together for six months before he left her at Somerland and returned to England. Said he couldn’t spend another day with such a… let me quote his exact words: ‘lying, cheating, manipulative woman.’ He passed a few months after that—leaving me to deal with her.”
Jasper watched various expressions cross Nia’s features. “She did not care for him?”
“She cared about his title. And about his money. My father, unfortunately, believed himself in love with her until he discovered her in bed with his… until learning that she’d been unfaithful.”
“But now she’s taken over your home? And this has persisted for five years?”
“My father failed to address the legalities of their separation, and as troublesome as she is, she’s but a woman. It’s not as though I can have her physically removed,” he said. “Regardless, as I’m sure you’ll wish to avoid the city for the hotter summer months, I suppose it’s only fair I disclose this situation to consider while making your decision.”
But Nia was not, apparently, prepared to abandon this topic of conversation. “Your father was widowed three times? That must have been devastating for him. And for you!”
“Widowed twice.” Jasper grimaced. Oh hell. In for a penny, in for a pound. “He divorced the third one. He missed my mother, but the others were… temporary diversions. My father was in love with the idea of love—an emotion that’s nothing more than an illusion. Embarrassing, really. Shortly before his death, he and Lavinia had agreed to an ecclesiastical separation. His penchant for marriage has cost him, and the Westcott estates, tremendously.” Jasper tugged at his cravat. This was a damn sore subject for him. The estate would have been penniless if not for a few of his own lucrative investments.
Jasper grimaced at the reminder. The burden of his father’s history wasn’t the sort of thing he’d ever imagined discussing with a prospective bride.
The scandal surrounding his father’s divorce had been written up in all the papers. He’d been five and ten at the time, and once his fellow students got hold of the news, his father’s humiliation might well have been his own.
Son of a cuckold, he’d been deemed. Along with a number of other demeaning insults.
Despite an almost uncanny resemblance to his father, some of the older boys questioned Jasper’s legitimacy. Which had not only been ridiculous but infuriating. Jasper’s parents had loved one another deeply. Even as a boy, he’d seen them exchange loving glances. He’d experienced the rare phenomenon of having devoted parents for the first decade of his life.
Perhaps if his father hadn’t been quite so happy with his mother, things would have turned out differently following her death.
But upon becoming a widower, his father had sought, almost manically, to replace the love of his life.
Most unfortunately.
Jasper hadn’t minded so much until he’d gone off to school, where he was teased incessantly for it—and worse. For the first two years, he’d been bullied relentlessly. If not for Reed Rutherford—now the Earl of Standish—it might have gone on until graduation. Reed had not only stepped into fights that weren’t his but taught Jasper how to defend himself.
That loyalty to his old friend was part of his reason for taking responsibility for Nia… The sister of Standish’s new countess.
But only part of it.
Nia brought out his protective instincts. Not just because she was a lady. She was so much more than that.
Perhaps it was that she’d been bullied by her father and that she’d have suffered the same, if not worse, with Dewberry.
Or perhaps, Jasper considered, he was taking responsibility for her for other reasons. Reasons that had nothing to do with honor and selflessness.
Nia’s heart grew heavy as she realized that even the Piccadilly Player had not lived an ideal life.
