“It’s what I thought I was getting, but I know better now.”
Clementine pursed her painted lips into a fresh pout. “We can work on that detail later, love.”
“We can work on it now.”
She rolled her eyes. “Fine, the girls can go to your Second Hope or the street or wherever they choose.”
“And I get access to all your finances.”
Clementine’s eyes narrowed. “Why?”
“You know why.” He had no delusions she truly meant to give up being Madam Dequenne. The only way to ensure good behavior would be to monitor her funds.
“That, we can definitely work out later.”
Jasper glared at her.
“Dearest, we’ll need an attorney, and my books. Honestly, we cannot hope to accomplish it before my man puts an end to your little Madelina.”
“Mclintock,” Miss Saint Lawrence growled.
Pain lanced through him at the thought of harm coming to Madelina, but Jasper continued to eye Clementine coldly. “How can I trust you?”
“Consider your stipulations my wedding present to you.” Clementine’s smile returned. “Spend some time thinking about what you’ll get me.” She moved back around the desk. “Now, if you’ll both excuse me, I have to get word to my friends that a certainladygets to live a little longer…word they must receive at regular intervals. While I’m away, dearest, arrange to have the banns read. For now, that’s the only time you’ll see me, in church each Sunday for the banns.” She batted her lashes. “This time apart will make our wedding night that much more special.”
She swiveled to face Madelina’s aunt. “Aubrey, I don’t expect to see you again. Ever.” In a whirl of auburn locks, Clementine turned and sauntered to the door. “And I better not learn you’re searching for her, or that you’ve run to her brother to put the weight of his fortune into the hunt,” she added. “You won’t like what happens to your precious Madelina if you do.” Clementine strode from the room.
Jasper sagged against the bookcase. Nausea roiled in his gut. He glanced at Miss Saint Lawrence.
Her gray eyes, clear like Madelina’s, simmered with hatred. “Should you follow her?”
Jasper shook his head. “She’ll have someone watching me. She must think she’s won.”
“You will marry her, if it means saving Madelina.” Her words were more a command than a question.
“If it means saving Madelina, I will.” Jasper slumped into his chair at the desk. “Getting her back unharmed is all that matters.” Even if it meant a lifetime of misery at Clementine’s side.
“Good.” Miss Saint Lawrence turned.
“Where are you going?” Jasper asked, sitting straighter.
“My business is my own, boy.”
He surged to his feet. “You must take care. If Clementine catches you interfering, she’ll kill Madelina. I’ve no doubt of it.”
“She won’t.” Miss Saint Lawrence headed for the door.
Jasper came around the desk. “Wait,” he hissed, moving to stand between her and the door. “If you’re going to search for her, at least let me help you.”
Iron gray eyebrows lifted. “You?”
“Me.”
“What can you hope to do and, if Clementine will have you followed, how do you expect not to be caught?”
Jasper gestured her back into the room. Expression churlish, Madelina’s aunt complied, sinking into one of the chairs before his desk. In turn, he went to both doors and peered out, then closed them firmly. Jasper pulled the second chair near hers rather than going back around his desk.
He leaned close and, voice nearly too low to hear, whispered, “I have men I can trust not to go to Clementine, and ideas of where she may have taken Madelina, where I can search on my own. I’ve also had dealings with Lord Lefthook. I have a way to get in contact with him. A place to go where we meet. I can enlist his aid. If Clementine is Madam Dequenne, she’s spent years trying to track him down and cannot, so going to him should be safe.”
