“Yes, he bloody is. If he does want Miss Thorne, it’s only because she’s friends with you and the duchess.” He’d gone quite hot in the face, which was odd, as he didn’t give a damn who Prudence Thorne married.
“I don’t think that’s theonlyreason, Montford,” Grantham said. “You haveseenMiss Thorne, have you not?”
Jasper gritted his teeth. “Seen her, and felt the lash of that thorny tongue of hers, too.”
“I think you’re being a bit hard on Miss Thorne, Montford, not to mention poor Stoneleigh. He seems quite taken with her.” Basingstoke joined him at the glass doors, both of them peering out at the couple. “There’s not a thing wrong with Stoneleigh. It’s a good match, particularly for her.”
“That’s true enough.” Grantham peered over Jasper’s shoulder. “Good God, the man can talk, can’t he?”
“Rather, yes. He came for tea today, and complimented the furnishings with such tiresome enthusiasm I nearly fell asleep in front of my Grecian fireplace.” Basingstoke snorted. “Ladies and their matchmaking schemes, eh, Montford?”
Basingstoke nudged him, but Jasper hardly heard him, as all his attention was fixed on Stoneleigh, who was holding forth on some subject or other, his hands clasped judiciously behind his back, his face stern as he went on, and on, and . . . dear God, stillon. “Do you suppose he’s delivering his Sunday sermon to her?”
Basingstoke’s brow furrowed. “It’s difficult to tell. Whatever it is, Miss Thorne seems to be attending eagerly enough.”
“Bollocks, Basingstoke. She looks as if she’s about to collapse from boredom and fall face first into the shrubbery.”
Basingstoke opened his mouth, but before he could reply there was a knock on the study door. “Yes, come in.”
Trevor entered, looking a bit harried. “I beg your pardon, Your Grace . . . that is, Your Graces. The duchess asks that you join her in the nursery, Your Grace, as it’s time for Lord Frederick’s bath.”
“Is it as late as that? I do beg your pardon, gentlemen, but—”
“Not to worry, Basingstoke. It’s time I was off, as I have an engagement tonight.” Grantham joined Trevor at the door, pausing to look over his shoulder at Jasper. “Youareattending Basingstoke’s shooting party, aren’t you, Montford?”
“Yes, I’ll be there.”
“Very good. I’ll see you then.”
Grantham vanished after Trevor, and Jasper turned to Basingstoke. “Never mind me, Basingstoke. Go and attend to your wife and son. Freddy must have his papa for his bath, mustn’t he?”
“Do stay, if you like, and help yourself to another glass of brandy. I won’t be long.”
“Very well.” Hewouldstay and help himself, but not to more brandy.
Basingstoke hurried off, and after a hasty bow, Trevor followed on his master’s heels.
Jasper waited until both sets of footsteps had faded to silence before he darted toward the chaise. The pillow that had nearly broken his neck last night was still there, but he tossed it aside and rifled behind the cushions and into the gaps between them.
No ruby earrings.
He stood back, panting, and kicked one of the chaise’s legs. “Villain! Yield up your treasure, damn you.”
But another, more violent search of the chaise didn’t turn up the earrings, and neither did a careful examination of the floor near the fireplace.
Had they dropped underneath the chaise, then? He got down on his knees and crawled about, running his hands over the floor, but there was nothing under there.
If the earrings had ever been here, they’d vanished. Had one of the servants found them? If so, then what had since become of them?
He rose from his knees and dropped down onto the chaise, the hard cushions digging into his arse.
Now what?
There was nothing for it. He’d have to confess the whole of it to Basingstoke, ask for his help finding the earrings, and endure the lecture that followed.
Perhaps he’d even listen this time. It had been bloody foolish of him to lose the damn things, almost as foolish as it had been to take up with Selina in the first place.
Even now, he wasn’t sure why he’d given into the temptation of her. It wasn’t as if he hadn’t recognized her for what she was before he’d tumbled into her bed. There’d been no love or even loyalty between him and Selina, no matter how much she insisted otherwise. Indeed, he preferred there not be, as romantic illusions only complicated things.
