Jasper didn’t believe her. She wanted him, yes, but not badly enough to hang for him. But word from Greydrake still hadn’t come. Jasper didn’t know what signal Clementine might give, what parishioners might secretly be her men, but he didn’t doubt she would have her men kill Madelina.
He mustered his voice and said, “I will.”
The words rang in his ears. He cast over his shoulder, but no one burst through the door. No one halted the wedding as the vicar began speaking again.
In a numb haze, Jasper found himself saying, “With this ring I thee wed, with my body I thee worship, and with all my worldly goods I thee endow. In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost. Amen.” He slid a golden band about Clementine’s finger.
The vicar once more began to speak. Bile balled in the back of Jasper’s throat. Yes, he’d told Greydrake he’d go through with it to keep Madelina alive, and Jasper had meant that. But he’d hoped…he hadn’t thought….
Clementine took his arm again. She turned him and walked him to the registry, then dipped the waiting pen in ink and held it out to him. Jasper’s hand shook. He looked about the church again, but nothing had changed. Jasper signed and Clementine took back the pen to add her name.
Everything was done. The observances made. The blessings given. The words spoken. His bride tugged him back down the aisle. The people they passed looked at their hands or watched with pity in their eyes.
“Smile or I’ll have her shot,” Clementine whispered out the side of lips turned up at the corners.
Jasper tried to mimic the expression. The numbness enveloping him prevented him from knowing if he succeeded, but Clementine didn’t reissue her threat.
They stepped free of the church. Jasper’s gaze rivetted on the balcony at the far end of the street. It stood empty. Where was Greydrake? What had befallen Madelina? Clementine tugged Jasper down the steps to the waiting carriage.
He handed her inside, then climbed in after. He settled into the backward facing seat, across from her. His wife. A shudder ran through him.
One of his footmen came to the door. After watching Jasper for a moment, Clementine gave directions to his London house. They would go there together. He would introduce her to the staff. She would live in his home. Nausea stirred in his gut. The carriage jerked into motion.
A wide smile curved Clementine’s lips. She switched seats, coming to sit beside him. Her form pressed his arm. She wrapped a leg across his lap. A smooth hand caressed his cheek, her touch barely felt through his shroud of haze.
“I’ve waited for this day for so long,” she murmured against his ear. She trailed kisses down his neck, each one a stab of pain. “To take you not as your mistress, but as your wife.”
Bile rose in the back of his throat. He squeezed his eyes closed.
“Kiss me,” she whispered.
Jasper jerked free. He switched seats. “No.”
“What do you mean, no?” Clementine asked, gaze narrow.
“You forced this union on me, Clementine. I’ve no desire to consummate it.”
She pushed her lips into a pout. “You’re still dreaming of your little virgin? She’s beyond your reach now, Jasper. Unless you want to treat her like your father did your mother. I’d permit that.”
Rage scorched his numb cocoon, set it ablaze in sparks of light that swam before his eyes. “That will never be Madelina’s fate.”
“No?” Clementine smirked. “It was a fate good enough for your mother.”
“Leave my mother out of this.”
“Why? She interrupted our wedding.” Clementine tossed her head. “I told you she hates me. Don’t think I’ll forget what she did.”
Jasper’s fists balled. Heaven help him, he’d never struck a woman. Never considered that he might, but the creature before him…wasn’t even human. What a role she’d played, for years. How great of a fool he was.
Her look morphed into a familiar, lazy smile. A smile that used to make his pulse sing. Now, his pulse hammered with impotent rage.
Clementine leaned across the small space that separated the seats. Her bosom strained against the overly modest cut of her gown, bulging out the top. Jasper grimaced and angled his face at the curtained window. Could she not see that knowledge of the evils she’d done made every inch of her repulsive?
“Dearest, you’ll never be able to forget about her if you don’t try.” Clementine’s tone was eminently reasonable now. A hand settled on his knee. “I can help. Together, we can put her behind you. Things can go back to the way they were before you met that waspish little beanpole.”
“Things can never go back to the way they were,” he said, voice low. “I know you’re Madam Dequenne. I know the things you’ve done, the lives you’ve ruined. Madelina or no Madelina, I will never get past how evil you are.”
“Well then.” Clementine yanked her hand away. “No matter. If that’s the way you see me, I may as well continue my operation and—”
