Chapter Eight
“Lord M__ was seen coming down the stairs from the private rooms of Lady Chandron during the ball. Speculation rippled through the other guests. And where was Lord Chandron during this time?”
-The Gazette
The traffic in Londonwas becoming more of a nightmare every year. The population had doubled since Jasper’s birth, or so his mother was always complaining, and it was reputed to be the largest city in the world. At that moment, he believed it, and every infernal citizen was out in his carriage clogging Mayfair and preventing him from getting to the ball.
He rapped on the roof with his cane. The carriage was stopped anyway, so Rigley jumped down and came to the window.
“Yes, my lord?”
“Where are we?”
“New Bond Street, sir. Probably another half an hour by the look of it.”
“Thirty more minutes! That’s outrageous. Step aside.” As soon as his footman was clear, Jasper shoved the carriage door open with annoyance and jumped to the street. “I’ll be there in seven.”
Striding along toward Piccadilly in the evening fog and chill, he felt good passing the rest of London’s elite, as they sat thwarted in their attempt to get anywhere. Glancing at the doorway of Gentleman Jackson’s Boxing Academy of which he was a long-standing member, Jasper strolled past and, as he’d expected, was mounting the steps to the Chandrons’ house in less than ten minutes.
Leaving his coat and hat with the greeter, he went up a flight of stairs, keeping his eyes open for his blonde, blue-eyed favorite female. Normally, he wouldn’t attend a party at this particular residence, having had a brief affair with the viscountess two years prior, which ended abruptly when she announced she wished to leave her husband for Jasper.
With any luck, he wouldn’t even see his hosts. And after a week of dry discussions with other members of Parliament forming alliances before its November opening, he was nearly giddy at the notion of seeing Miss Sudbury again.
Within a very few minutes, however, he was dismayed by his inability to find her. There was probably another party going on in Town, but the Chandrons’ was the foremost one for the week. The choice of events was becoming fewer as many had left London already for their country estates, some staying away until springtime.
Just when he feared Miss Sudbury was across town eating roasted pheasant at a small dinner gathering, he suddenly spied Mrs. Zebodar, and his spirits soared. If the dragon was there, so was her charge.
Knowing better than to alert her chaperone that he was on the hunt, he went to the terrace and did a quick surveil. She wasn’t outside, and the garden was too small and brightly lit by flaming torches to conceal lovers.
Thank God!The notion, of her enjoying a kiss with some fop who didn’t deserve her gnawed at his gut.
Back indoors, Jasper crossed the parquet, his jacket flying out behind him, and then he did what he wouldn’t do previously. He made a conspicuous ass of himself in front of the retiring room set up for the ladies.
“Is there a fair-haired woman in there?” he asked the first female who came out.
“No, my lord.”
“Are you certain?”
