“Where is Madelina, Mclintock?” Miss Saint Lawrence demanded, her features hard lines of anger.
“What do you mean, where is she?”
Madelina’s aunt thumped into the room, the raptor head on her cane glowering as formidably as she did. She slapped a piece of paper down on his desk. “Explain this.”
He dropped his gaze to read.
Please give me one more opportunity to prove myself to you. I cannot live without you. We must speak – J
“I didn’t write this,” he said, his mind whirling. Had Madelina run off with another man? He started a list of everyone who could claim the initial J for their first or family name. “Who else courted her?” Jasper would find the cad and stick a sword in him.
“Only you, Mclintock, and the note came delivered in your carriage.” Miss Saint Lawrence tapped the page where it rested on his desktop. “Prove you didn’t write it.”
He slid the ledger he’d been attempting to work on across the desk. “If I’d run off with her, I would hardly be here, working.”
“You would be if you have her secreted somewhere nearby.” She bent low, hawk nose hovering just above the page. After a moment, she straightened with a grunt. “You didn’t write it.”
“I told you as much.” Head whirling, he ran down a new list, those who might commandeer his carriage. It was a very short list. “How long has she been gone?”
“Since sunup.” Miss Saint Lawrence studied him through keen, narrowed eyes. “Your carriage came with the note. She climbed out her bedroom window and, presumably, got in. The driver told our staff that he wouldn’t leave without her, or until she tendered her refusal in person.”
Jasper shook his head again. “She wouldn’t have let anyone force her to go.”
“Maybe, maybe not. She didn’t take any of her weapons, fool girl.”
Jasper’s eyes flew wide. “You know?”
“Know? I saw to her training, boy.”
“You encouraged, nay, enabled, her to race into harm’s way?” Anger welled in his chest.
Miss Saint Lawrence eyed him coldly. “She’s never in real danger. I have someone keeping an eye on her.” Her gaze raked over him. “But I never thought she’d sneak out at the crack of dawn over some fool boy. She was trained better than this. You’re the one who’s put her in danger.”
Jasper drew in a breath, swallowing a sharp retort. Now wasn’t the time for an argument with Madelina’s strange and overbearing aunt. “Have you gone to the marquess yet? We must launch a search. Greydrake has considerable resources.”
“That won’t be necessary,” Clementine said from the open doorway. “Aubrey,” she added, with a nod to Miss Saint Lawrence.
“Clementine.” Miss Saint Lawrence replied, her eyes still narrowed on Jasper.
“You know one another?” Jasper asked, startled.
Clementine strode into the room and around the desk. She stood beside Jasper, resting a hand on his shoulder. The gesture obliquely annoyed him. Clementine was definitely on his short list of those who might order his carriage made ready. “Aubrey and I are very old friends. I gave her that limp, back when I was a girl.”
Jasper snapped his head around to look up at Clementine. “You what?” His breath quickened. The room seemed to throb in time with his pulse.
“Oh dear,” Clementine murmured. “You’re starting to understand.” She moved behind him and began massaging his shoulders. “Don’t worry, darling, all will be well.”
Jasper shrugged off her hands and stood to face her. “It’s true, then.” Madelina had been correct, and he’d refused to believe her, had failed the first test of trust. Bile scalded the back of his throat.
Clementine proffered a beatific smile. “Yes, dearest,” she soothed, “but I’m willing to give it all up for you. Madam Dequenne will end with me. Your goal is at hand. You’ve worked so hard, raised so much support and funding. You deserve this.”
He shook his head. “You’re a monster.”
“You do insult to monsters,” Miss Saint Lawrence said, her knuckles white around her cane as she glowered at Clementine, her granite-gray eyes like a bird locked onto its prey.
Jasper stared at Clementine, trying to see her as she really was. Their life together sped through his mind. Every confession. Every night spent together in bed, laughing, talking. Hopes shared. Dreams whispered. He’d been lying beside a monster. Caressing a monster.
“Jasper, dear, please sit back down,” Clementine said. “You don’t look well.” She reached to smooth his hair, but he backed away. “Come now,” she cajoled. “You know me. Anything I did or have done, was only for us. To survive. To build a life.”
