“I had every intention of going through with it.” Nia marveled at herself. “I very nearly married Dewberry. But standing there…” She shook her head. “I just couldn’t.”
The housekeeper kept matter-of-fact. “Well, I suppose you’ve burned your bridges there then.” The housekeeper had begun weaving Nia’s hair into one long braid.
“What would you do?”
“From what I hear, you’ve always been a good girl. Let all the fuss die down this afternoon, return to your father, take your punishment, and live a long and peaceful life in the country. I imagine that’s where he’ll send you. Isn’t that what nobs do when one of their own is ruined?”
Take your punishment.
But what would that be? Nia had learned long ago not to draw her father’s ire. It had taken her younger sister longer to learn that lesson, and Goldie had suffered more than once at their father’s hand.
Take your punishment.
“Thinking he’ll wallop you? Most likely he will. But what are your other choices, my lady? Live on the streets? Work at a brothel? Normally, I believe a lady such as yourself might find work as a governess or companion, but after jilting a groom—a duke no less, tsk, tsk…” The housekeeper shook her head. “And it’s not as though the baron can keep you here indefinitely. He’s an honorable man, despite what people say.” She shook her head. “Best for everyone that you go home and face the consequences of what you’ve done.”
Where Nia had begun to relax moments before, trepidation now worked its way through her veins.
Was going home her only option?
She shivered. She’d embarrassed her father, thwarted him publicly.
Should she listen to the niggling instincts that home was no longer a place of refuge? Or was she being paranoid?
Because, in being honest with herself, living alone on one of her father’s distant country estates sounded quite appealing at this point. But could she endure her father’s wrath first?
A Safe Place
“Lord Helton to see you, my lord,” announced Jasper’s butler, Mr. Dudley.
“Of course.” Jasper glanced up from his desk where he’d been ruminating over the unfortunate events of his morning.
The Earl of Helton, known as Mr. Maxwell Black in the publishing world, was the new owner of the London Gazette. And although anyone else harboring a runaway bride in his home might panic at such a visit, Jasper didn’t blink.
Because Helton’s mind was wicked sharp, and Jasper welcomed the man’s opinion on these circumstances. More importantly, Jasper trusted him.
“Helton,” Jasper said just as the earl’s face appeared in the open door.
“West.” The earl crossed the room, glancing around suspiciously as though he expected Jasper to have a visitor and, not seeing anyone, lowered himself into the tall leather chair opposite Jasper.
Jasper narrowed his eyes. This wasn’t a casual visit. “What have I done to be so lucky to see your ugly mug today?” Because West House, set on the corner of Piccadilly and Park Lane, was nearly two miles from Helton’s offices on Fleet Street, an inconvenient drive for a mere whim.
Jasper opened the cheroot box on his desk and offered one to the other man, who took it without hesitation.
“I attended a wedding this morning,” Helton stated with affected nonchalance.
Striking a flint, Jasper lit both their cigars and waited. Because there was more. Helton would not be here otherwise.
Furthermore, there had only been one wedding of significance scheduled at St. George’s this morning. Jasper did not comment.
“Turns out,” Helton exhaled, “The bride wasn’t all that keen to marry her groom—nearly turned green just before she took off running. Half the congregation chased her down but she still managed to escape.”
“Indeed?” Jasper said.
A nod. “Funny thing, that is, one small lady outrunning two dozen strapping men. Those involved suspect that the bride arranged for a carriage to pick her up outside of Standish’s residence. That carriage has been described to have been a Park Drag, black with blue trim. Which meant that the man who helped her had to have been a member of the ton himself.”
“Oh really?” Jasper paused before taking a puff of his cigar.
Helton’s gaze narrowed. “You wouldn’t know anything about that, now, would you?”
