Chapter Three
Jasper pulled open the door, but stopped at the tug of Miss Fairchild’s hand on his elbow.
“This isn’t the dining room.”
“I know. Since it’s just the two of us, I thought we might try something less formal.”
Juniper took in the pillows and covered dishes arrayed in front of the fireplace in the small library. Tiny creases formed between her eyebrows.
“You don’t like it. Not to worry, I’ll just have the footmen—”
“It’s fine.” She smiled. “It’s lovely, actually. I was just surprised.”
“You’re certain? It’s really no trouble to move our meal somewhere else.” There was nothing romantic about a fireside picnic if she was only agreeing to it out of politeness.
“Perfectly. Where would you like me?”
Jasper paused, and the corner of his mouth quirked up as he rejected a few of the more vulgar answers that sprang to mind.
She saw it, and blushed.
He waived in the direction of the cushions by the fire as he poured them both wine. “Just there would be lovely, Cleopatra.”
Her laughter rang out. “Are you Antony or Caesar?”
“Antony, certainly.”
“So it’s another double suicide, then.” She shook her head as he handed over the glass. “I’m beginning to think you have a very dismal outlook on love, Antony.”
Jasper frowned, lowering himself to the floor next to her. Perhaps it was recent events coloring his suggestions, but he wasn’t about to say so and ruin the lovely mood building between them. “I can’t help if the world’s famous love stories usually end in tragedy.”
Like his parents.
“But why? Why couldn’t Cleopatra have demonstrated her love by escaping into hiding and plotting to avenge Antony’s death? By going on to live and love again, as anyone who cared for her would wish?” Juniper’s animated gestures were delightful. Wisps of hair escaped her pins with the movements, and her eyes lit with intelligence and challenge. “Why should one great tragedy be the end of everything?”
“When you lose someone who means that much to you…” Jasper’s throat tightened. He silently thanked his body for the betrayal. She was posing a philosophical question, not asking for a glimpse of his grief.
But Juniper looked at him, eyes wide with interest. “What?”
“It’s nothing.”
“It’s not nothing. When you lose someone who means that much to you…”
Jasper sighed. “The world feels wrong. Like it’s corrupted itself, by having the audacity to go on without that person in it.”
“You’ve lost someone recently,” she said softly.
He nodded and took a swallow of his wine. Everything he touched was going to turn melancholy. He was terrible company.
“Is that why you came here? To escape it?”
“Yes.” Another swallow. Jasper wished he’d had a less indulgent youth, so the wine would be doing more potent work now.
“Then I shall help you,” she declared. Juniper lifted the lids off dishes, and started loading their plates. “I know a thing or two about avoiding misery. So we’ll speak no more about tragedy. In fact, you’re going to tell me about your most amusing grand adventure.”
Jasper looked at her—really looked. There wasn’t any trace of pity in her face. If anything, she glowed with challenge even more than before. “What makes you think I’ve one grand adventure, never mind enough to choose from?” he asked.
She popped a piece of cheese into her mouth and stared him down.
“You are a famous reprobate, Jasper. I am owed at least one tale to compare to the outrageous stories I’ve read in the papers. They can’t all have been true.”
The truth was, most of the gossip rags didn’t do his exploits half the justice they deserved. And just like that, Jasper wasn’t thinking about how nothing could ever be right again without his grandfather in the world. He was sifting through every raucous memory, trying to find the best one to light her eyes with laughter.
He leaned back, resting his arm across the seat of the settee behind them. No matter how lovely of a distraction it might be, there wasn’t a single story Jasper could tell Amelia’s sheltered cousin while still maintaining the pretense that his intentions were harmless. “Why don’t you tell me about one of your adventures instead?”
“Not a chance. I will not fall for your prevarication, and even if I wanted to, I haven’t had any adventures.”
“I don’t believe that.”
“Regardless, it is the truth.”
Jasper sighed. “My stories would shock you. They are not for genteel company.”
Her eyes narrowed, glinting with challenge. “Who was your most surprising lover?”
He nearly choked on his wine. “Juniper—”
“Come on, out with it.” She leaned back with a siren’s smile. “You don’t need to use names, if you value discretion.”
Jasper bought himself time by reaching for the laden plate she’d set aside for him. Reminiscing about his exploits, tantalizing them both with provocative imagery, was exactly what he needed. What he wanted.
But he couldn’t seduce Amelia’s cousin. It wouldn’t be right. Unfortunately, his dinner companion did not share his caution.
“I heard you spent time in Bucharest with a crown princess who had some unusual habits.”
Nadya. “She isn’t the crown princess. She has three older siblings.”
Juniper’s smile was all triumph, but then a blush dusted her cheeks and she looked away when she asked, “Is it true what they say?”
“That she likes to tie people up?” Jasper sipped his wine. He could have both. If he was careful, if he kept himself in check, he could have this distraction without doing anything dishonorable. He could. “Yes. But, since that particular habit was what drew us to each other in the first place, I don’t count that as surprising.”
Her eyes went wide. “You enjoy being tied up?”
Jasper smiled. “I enjoy most things, in the right mood.”
Pink turned to bright red. She snuck a look at him before darting her eyes back to the fireplace. They appeared to have reached the limit of her daring, because she changed the subject, but there was still a smile at the corners of her lips. “So, if the princess was not surprising, who is?”
Jasper chose a morsel from his plate and offered it to her. She hesitated, before closing her lips around it, brushing the edges of his fingers. “You are.”
Juniper took a heavy swallow of her wine. Her cheeks were delightfully pink. “We’re not lovers.”
He heard the unspoken yet lingering at the end of her assertion. It pulled at him, but he kept a tight rein on his impulses. He would not betray Nicholas or Amelia’s trust—not without at least giving them warning of his intentions. Words only. There was no harm in words. “A love doesn’t need to be consummated to make two people lovers.”
“Do you mean to pretend you love me?” Juniper scoffed.
Jasper took her skepticism for the opportunity that it was. He shouldn’t make love to her with words. Instead, he chose a light tone. “Would that be so ridiculous?”
“We’ve only just met. You couldn’t possibly love me.”
He pressed his hand to his chest with full dramatics. “You wound me. Romeo and Juliet only knew each other—”
“Fiction! More of your fatalistic dolts. No.” Juniper shook her head, drinking more of her wine. She leaned back with her wineglass, narrowing her eyes. “Tell me, really, who was your most surprising lover?”
The way the firelight played across her hair, catching strands of gold and lighting them up, fascinated him. The words came out of him of their own volition. “You’re beautiful.”
She threw a roll at him. “You really won’t tell me.”
He laughed and took a bite out of the projectile. “I would rather find out how you’ve managed to avoid adventure all this time.”
“Innate talent.”
They spent the evening that way. Juniper blushed the sweetest shade of pink and continued to demand details of his love life and adventures. Jasper lavished her with compliments and occasionally admitted to some of the tamer exploits of his past. While they talked, they shifted closer together. By the time a pile of empty plates surrounded them, she was leaning against his chest, and his arm rested across her shoulders on the settee seat.
Jasper lifted another spoonful of treacle pudding.
Juniper groaned. “I’ll burst.”
“That seems highly unlikely.”
“We’ve eaten enough for a small army!”
“Just one more?” It was too tempting, watching the way her lips closed over the spoon.
“One more.”
“And one more glass of wine.”
“Be honest with me—are you the devil in disguise?”
They’d already crossed more lines than they should have. Jasper had hoped the wine would dull his senses and make him less aware of her, but all it had done was sabotage his resolution to behave. “If I was, I’d like to think I wouldn’t be so easy to figure out.”
“Maybe it’s a clever ploy to divert suspicion.”
“But you’re far too quick to be fooled.” His fingers came up and traced the curve of her jaw just under her earlobe.
She let out a shuddering breath. “Jasper.”
Time stopped around them. Her pulse raced beneath his fingers. Just one touch, and then he would say good night. If he kept it to just one, he could go to sleep with the feel of her against his skin and be satisfied. She leaned into him. His hand moved into her upswept hair, down the column of her neck. He traced the line of her collarbone. Enough.
If he didn’t stop there, he wouldn’t stop at all. “We should probably retire for the evening.”
“I—” Her brow creased into a frown. “Truly?”
“Truly. It’s very late, and the staff will start to wonder.” Jasper felt like an utter ass. He stood and offered her his hand.
She accepted it silently.
He didn’t want to leave the evening this way, but he had no choice. If they spent another moment together, it would go too far. Still, her obvious confusion lodged an ache in his chest. It was as unlikely to dissipate as the other protests his body was currently lodging at the idea of walking away from her.
“It has been a singularly enjoyable evening.” He lifted her hand to his lips, lingering as he held her eyes.
“For me, also.”
“Sleep well, Penelope.” Jasper left her behind, heading for the terrace and a much-needed walk in the cold night air.
“My lady? You need to get up.”
Julia groaned and rolled over, burying her head in an overstuffed down pillow to block out Nora’s voice.
It didn’t work. “Come on, now. You know as well as I do, you have to get up.”
“My head hurts.”
“A lot more than that will hurt if you don’t handle the necessaries.”
Julia groaned again and rolled back over. She swung her legs over the edge and accepted the chamber pot Nora was holding out. “I hate today.”
“Hopefully it doesn’t hate you back, my lady.”
It definitively hated her back. The wall of windows overlooking the rolling green hills—something Julia had adored when she first saw the room—were now sending vicious beams of sunlight straight into her eyes. She closed them again. “Why does my head hurt so much?”
“Could be God is punishing you for your wicked ways.” Nora started arranging the pillows and straightening the sheets now that Julia was off the bed. “Or could be you stayed up late and drank too much wine.”
Julia slid the chamber pot under the bed and tried to take a step toward her dressing gown. A sharp, stabbing pain shot through her hip. She winced. “I think it’s the first one.”
Sitting on the floor during dinner had been a mistake. She’d thought it would be well worth the trouble, but then Jasper had bid her good night, calling her Penelope as he went. It was an apt choice. Penelope had spent ages waiting for Odysseus. Julia wondered how long she would end up waiting for Jasper.
“Want me to call for a bath?”
“I just had one after the ride yesterday.”
“They help with the aches, and don’t try to tell me you don’t have any. I saw your face.”
She sat on the edge of the bed, digging the heel of her hand into her hip and thigh. “I can’t miss breakfast. If I miss breakfast, Jasper will think—”
“I could give two figs what Lord Bellamy thinks.” Nora raised her arm to yank the pull. “You’re having a soak, or you’re staying in this room. What will it be?”
“You do know you work for me, right? Not the other way around.”
“Actually, I work for your father. Shall we ask him if you ought to take care of yourself, or go chasing after some rake?”
A lot of good the chasing was doing—she couldn’t manage to catch him. Julia let her body slump back onto the brocade coverlet. “I take it back. I don’t hate today. I hate you.”
Nora smirked. “I’m heartbroken.”
“Fine. I will be your willing hostage, on the condition that you must take a message to Lord Bellamy telling him I won’t be down for breakfast, but I look forward to seeing him later.”
Nora blinked at her.
“Those are my terms.”
The maid nodded, leaving Julia alone with her headache and her confusion. The latter had kept her up half the night, until she’d fallen into a very troubled sleep full of confusing dreams.
Why hadn’t Jasper kissed her? He enjoyed her company, and he was attracted to her—he’d said as much. Was it something she’d done? Had she ruined it somehow? Breakfast would be long over by the time Julia soaked the ache out of her leg. What if he thought she was angry with him? She was, a little, but it would be embarrassing for him to know that.
Damn every boy in the Berkshires during her childhood. If any of them had been able to look past her disability for even a second, she’d have something to go off in the flirting department and would know what the trouble was now. While she was glaring at the ceiling, no doubt giving herself a lifetime of frown lines, Nora returned with an answering message from Jasper.
“He says that he hopes you are well, and asks if everything is all right.”
Why don’t you tell me, she wanted to reply. Obviously, Julia wasn’t the one driving their flirtation or she’d be reliving her first kiss right now instead of trying to dissect her confusion. “Is that all he says?”
“He also says you’re a ridiculous girl and you should listen to your maid more.”
Julia glared at Nora, but her heart wasn’t in it. She was too busy trying to solve the puzzle that was Jasper DeVere. He’d obviously wanted to kiss her. He was perfectly attentive. She hadn’t sensed any reservations from him, beyond the irrefutable fact that he hadn’t kissed her. Perhaps he just needed some encouragement.
“Tell him I am perfectly well, I just feel like languishing in bed for a while.”
“I’m not paid to ferry messages to your paramours.”
Julia turned to the kitchen maid filling the bath with water. “Letty, please tell Lord Bellamy—”
“For God’s sake. Fine. If only to save poor Letty from your wickedness.”
Letty did not look like she’d just been saved. If anything, she looked disappointed. She was a pretty girl. Undoubtedly, she had more experience flirting with men than Julia.
“Letty,” Julia asked. “What would you do if you knew a man was interested in you, but you couldn’t get him to misbehave?”
Nora stopped dead at the door. “Lady Julia!”
“What? I’d ask you, but you’d probably just start quoting scripture at me. Letty is a free woman. She can say what she likes.”
The kitchen maid blushed beet red. “I—I’m sure I don’t know, my lady.”
“Of course you do,” Julia encouraged. “If you were trying to snag a charming suitor, what would you do?”
Letty slid a sideways glance at Nora, before staring at the floor. “I suppose I might…try to get him alone, my lady?”
That was exactly what Julia needed—more time alone with Jasper. He had wanted to kiss her. With enough time in each other’s presence, it would happen. “Nora, also ask him if he’d like to accompany me on an adventure this afternoon.”
No sooner had Julia submerged herself in the tub than Nora returned with a scowl that should have turned Julia to stone. “He asks what happened to your innate talent for avoiding adventure.”
Julia couldn’t help the grin that split her face. “Tell him I’m trying to remedy that, and I need his expertise in the matter.”
The two maids shared a glance.
“Go on. Tell him.” Julia was feeling much more optimistic when Nora left again. She hummed as she swished her fingers through the water, pondering possibilities for the afternoon. There were a number of things she’d imagined doing if she ever had a proper suitor. The question was, which one should she pick?
The closing door announced Nora’s return. “I swear on my mother’s grave—”
“What did he say?”
“He asks what manner of adventure he should prepare for.”
It didn’t matter that Nora’s tone was flat and disapproving—Julia could imagine the wicked glint in Jasper’s eye and his teasing tone in perfect detail. “Tell him it’s a secret, and if he wishes to know what kind, he should meet me at the boathouse at one o’clock.”
“What the devil do you plan to get up to at the boathouse?” Nora demanded.
Julia didn’t answer. Instead, she held out the washing cloth in a wordless request. Nora could disapprove all she wanted. Julia had an opportunity to achieve her goal and fulfill some of her long-held fantasies. She intended to take that opportunity.
A romantic outing on the lake would be the perfect place to continue what they’d started.