Jasper cleared his throat and darted a look at the two young women.
“Regardless,” his mother went on, sunny expression unwavering, though she dipped her head in acknowledgement, “I’m very happy you’ve come, and on a day with such delightful weather for the season.”
“Weather wise, London has been particularly bearable of late,” he agreed, relieved she’d taken his cue.
They continued to chat amiably about the weather until the two young women departed. His mother stood and crossed the room to quietly close the door. She returned to her seat and smoothed her skirt, expression expectant.
“You’re sure they won’t listen at the door?” Jasper asked. “This isn’t a conversation you will wish repeated.”
“I have complete faith in my staff,” his mother said. “They know that when the door is closed, they must remain away until I ring. You forget, I once had many visitors. You cannot imagine the secrets that have filled this room.” She looked about, her expression almost wistful. “When your father lived, even ladies I hardly knew would come to me for advice. For some reason, their impression that I am tarnished made them willing to confide in me.”
Jasper leaned forward, his concerns overshadowed by worry for his mother. “We have the country estate. You could retire there, away from the hypocritical mores of London. You could form new friendships.”
Sorrow touched her smile. “For a week, perhaps two. Then word of my shame would follow me, and I would be more ostracized than ever, and without you.”
“Anyone who doesn’t seek your company is doing themselves a deep disservice.”
She assessed him with calm eyes. “That’s kind of you to say, dear, but, I’m sure, is hardly the point of your visit. What must you ask that has you so unraveled? Do you need a donation for Second Hope?”
Jasper cleared his throat. “Not in the monetary sense,” he temporized.
“Oh? In what sense, then?” she asked, hands folded and still in her lap.
He cleared his throat again. “I must inquire about the past. About your abduction.” He offered an apologetic look. “I wouldn’t ask were it not necessary, but I must put a stop to them. I don’t wish a single girl more to go through what you did.”
She pursed her lips, a frown tugging at them.
“I’m sorry, Mother. I don’t mean to reawaken old pains.”
His mother shook her gray-streaked curls. “It’s not that, dear. I am at peace with the past. Yes, I was terrified when they took me, and hurt by how my family and friends shunned me afterwards, but nothing truly terrible happened. I was lucky. Your father came to me that first night and he took me away from there.” She drew in a breath. “The fact of the matter is, though a gentleman’s daughter, I lived in much lower circles than your father. If Madam Dequenne had not kidnapped me, I would never have met him. I wouldn’t have had years of love and happiness, or you. How can I truly regret what happened?”
“Surely you could have been happy with someone else,” Jasper said, voice rough with the knowledge of how the endless snubs and snipes must batter her. “And without what society deems such shame.” And another child would have been born. One who wasn’t a bastard. Who would have had a carefree, untarnished life.
His mother shook her head. “I could never have loved another as I did your father. I knew that from the day we met. A love such as we had is worth any pain.”
“Is it?” His whole life, he’d longed to ask, but he’d never before had the courage. “Even now that he’s left you to live under the shadow of scorn? Even though he bowed to grandfather’s wishes and didn’t wed you?” Even though her union with his father resulted in a child who would never be accepted into society?
His mother’s expression softened. “We were very young when we met. Fifteen. Your grandfather forced him to wed Lady Aspen within the year. Could you have stood up to your grandfather at fifteen?” She shook her head. “I told your father to marry her. They would never have let us wed, and the dukedom required an heir. Once Matthew was born, your grandfather relented and left us in peace.” Her look turned sorrowful. “I know, right now, that you enjoy your mistresses, Jasper, but I do hope that someday you can find love.”
He already had. For all his protests, he knew precisely the feeling his mother described. That moment when the world stood still. When there could be no breath, no life, without Lady Madelina.
Not that it mattered one whit how he felt. He stood only to gain by wedding a lady. In marrying him, if he could ever prevail upon her to, Lady Madelina could lose everything. Society’s favor. The respect due her rank. Perhaps even her dowry and her family’s love, though Jasper dared to think better of Greydrake.
“You said you have questions about the abduction,” his mother prompted. Her tone held apology.
Jasper realized she took his silence as rebuke for prying into his relationships, or lack thereof. Normally, it would be. Or, rather, he would have deflected the topic with easy banter. Today, his mother couldn’t know that he lost all focus, all attention, the moment he allowed his mind to dwell on Lady Madelina’s beauty. On that dusky voice revealing her unconventional opinions. The sheer elegance of her form as she danced.
“Jasper?” his mother pressed.
He shook his head, seeking focus. “Ah, yes, why I’ve come.” He pulled his purpose to him. “I have been seeking the identity of Madam Dequenne, but there are no clues to be found. I thought, perhaps, you might have some.”
“Madam Dequenne?” His mother’s tone held surprise. “She still lives?”
Jasper nodded. “She does, and she is the force behind these abductions. She must be stopped.”
His mother’s expression took on a bemused cast. “She seemed so old, but then, I was only fifteen. I warrant, anyone over nineteen appeared old to me.” She frowned, lines forming on her brow. “I saw her but once, and I don’t even know where they held me. When we left there, your father took me away in a carriage. I was far too distraught to pay attention to buildings or streets.”
Jasper’s shoulders drooped. He caused his mother to revisit a painful topic, to no avail.
