Page 52 of A Gifted Earl

His voice was scornful. Lord Templewick smiled, and it was the smile of a man who had just been handed the opportunity he sought.

“I say that because of the fact that I have bought up all of your debts, Chater, every single one. I own you. I could call them all in, and leave you paupered, for I know that your father won’t pay them. But more than that, I could make it known throughout society that you were that badly in debt, that you had no honour, that you weren’t good for your vowels, and that no man should ever trust your word again. Even if your father did choose to pay, he could not undo what that would do to your reputation.”

As he spoke, Jasper had gone pale, and then positively grey-faced.

“No… You can’t… I don’t believe you.”

“Oh I can. Think yourself lucky that I don’t plant you a facer right now for your arrogance as well.” Templewick dropped Jasper unceremoniously, then reached into his coat, and pulled out a pile of papers. “See – every single vowel you owe against, all signed over to me – and there is a second copy with my man of business. You will leave my house within the next two hours, and you will speak of this to no one. And you will never touch, threaten, or hurt Lady Venetia and her mother again, in any way.”

Chapter Seventeen

Morgan had listened at the door before entering, just in case there was something he should know before walking into the room – and he was so very glad that he had taken that precaution. His anger had risen, moment by moment, as he heard the words spoken between Jasper and Lady Venetia. The man was the lowest of the low, and deserved nothing more than to be felled by a punch, and locked away somewhere. But, satisfying as that might be, it was not a long-lasting solution – unlike the one provided by the papers in his pocket.

When Jasper spoke of making Lady Venetia his mistress, and then she screamed, Morgan could bear it no longer – he had heard enough to damn the man. He had thrust the door open, and surged into the room, to find that Jasper had Lady Venetia pinned beneath him, but before he could reach them, Jasper emitted a strangled half scream, and convulsed – from, as far as Morgan had been able to see as he crossed the room, the impact of Lady Venetia’s knee in a sensitive place. He had grasped Jasper by the shoulders, pulled him off the Lady, and flung him to the floor.

He had then seated himself beside Lady Venetia, reaching instinctively to comfort her, and when she had leaned into him, he had kissed her brow, unable to help himself, feeling a desperate need to ease her discomfort, to protect her. That action had driven Lord Jasper to rouse himself to sneering commentary.

What had followed then had only partly gone according to his plan – he had used the leverage granted him by those papers to send Lord Jasper away, and to protect Lady Venetia and her mother, now and in the future – but in the midst of his tirade against the reprobate, he had made a very unplanned declaration of willingness to marry Lady Venetia.

Doing so had startled him, as much as it had obviously startled Lord Jasper, and Lady Venetia, but he’d had little time to consider it, so focussed was he on demanding what he wanted of Lord Jasper. After he’d stated his demands, Lord Jasper had stood there for a moment, shaking with what looked to be impotent fury, and now, after that fraught silence, he spoke again.

“You’re a devil, Templewick, and one day I’ll make you pay for this. But for now, it seems I have no choice.” He turned to look at Lady Venetia, his face a picture of ugly dislike. “As for you, my slatternly cousin – you were never worth this, I should have known that nothing good could come of going anywhere near you. Templewick is welcome to you, and I wish him all the misery you can inflict on him.”

With that, he rushed from the room, still a little unsteady after the force of her knee. The door slammed on his exit, and suddenly, they were alone, the ticking of the clock loud, the lack of all other sound somehow demanding that they speak to each other.

Despite that, neither spoke, although Morgan turned slowly to Lady Venetia. In that moment he realised that he had meant every word of that unplanned declaration – he would be happy to marry her, if she would accept his suit. It seemed so obvious to him now – she was the only woman he’d found any interest in spending time with, from the very start of their acquaintance, so the idea of marrying her should have been obvious – but even as he’d known that he was steadily coming to care for her more, his mind had not taken that final step – consciously, at least. It seemed that subconsciously it had, or he doubted he would have made that statement to Lord Jasper.

But how was he to begin speaking of it? What could he say about anything, right now? Then she solved that problem for him, by being the first to speak.

“My Lord… I… I must thank you again. But… how did you come to buy up Jasper’s debts? And why? For that was surely a very large amount!”

He stepped forward, and took her hands. She blushed, but did not pull away.

“It was not insignificant – but it was certainly easily within my means. I regard it as a good investment, for what I have purchased is your freedom from his harassment. As to why… after what you told me, up at the ruins, I chose to act, in case such a situation as this ever arose – but in truth, I had not expected it to do so this soon.”

She looked at him, and he realised that her hands were shaking in his grasp, and there was what looked suspiciously like the sheen of tears in her eyes. For a moment, her lip trembled, and he wanted, in that instant, to bend forward and kiss her – but would that not make him just as bad as Chater?

“I am overwhelmed by your kindness – in more ways than just that. Tell me, for I must know,” her voice quivered, “what did you mean by saying that you would marry me? Was that something said in the heat of the moment, to contradict Jasper’s nasty pronouncement? Or was it… of course, I would never try to hold you to such a thing, said at such a time….”

Her voice trailed off, and she looked away, embarrassed.

He considered but a moment, before laughing gently.

“Ah, I see – but what if I want to be held to it? If you’ll have me?”

Her mouth dropped open in surprise for a moment, then closed a little as confusion filled her expression. Was she really so shocked that he might consider marrying her? Apparently so. He tugged on her hands gently, and pulled her close to him, then bent and pressed a kiss to her scar again. Her breath caught, and a small sob escaped her. He kissed her brow again, then trailed gentle kisses down her face until his lips found hers. She stiffened for a moment, and then, with a soft sigh against his lips, she melted against him, into the arms he encircled her with, and tentatively returned his kiss.

It was sweet, and heady, intoxicating in its innocence. It was a gift she gave him, and one which he would value, always.

A minute passed, and eventually he drew back, and met her eyes. She trembled in his grasp. Her voice when it came was barely more than a whisper.

“Thank you. But there is no need for you to be so kind… I would not have pity…”

That shocked him.

“My Lady, there is nothing of pity in that, nothing at all. I kissed you because I wanted to – I have wanted to, if I am truthful, almost since I first saw you. And the more time I spent with you, the more I came to care for you – but I did not know what you thought of me, and I was a fool, and said nothing to you of my feelings. All those weeks in London, and I never found the courage.”

She laughed then, a sound with an almost hysterical edge to it, shaking her head.