For Love of the Duke(97)

With his body and mind numb, Jasper wandered from the chambers, through the long corridors, down the stairs, and into the once closed off room.

He stepped into the Portrait Room, striding past the bitter visages of his parents and younger self, and made his way very deliberately over to one particular canvas.

Jasper paused and stared up at the smiling couple, not recognizing the youthful gentleman with a carefree glimmer in his eyes.

“I…” Jasper paused, and looked around, ascertaining he was in fact alone. He returned his attention to Lydia’s golden countenance. “I didn’t mean to forget you, Lydia,” he said at last, into the quiet.

The couple continued to smile almost benevolently down at him.

“I thought to honor your memory and the love I carried for you, by shutting myself away from the world.” He drew in a shuddery breath. “I didn’t think I could ever love again.” Jasper held his palms out, Katherine’s letter and reticule an unwitting explanation. “I met a woman. I didn’t intend for it to happen.” And yet, if it hadn’t happened, then Katherine’s lifeless body would forever dwell under the surface of the Thames River. A chill stole through him and iced him over at the sheer horror of the imagined tragedy. “And I love her, Lydia.” Tears blurred his vision. “I cannot carry on without her.” Tears trailed down his cheeks and he let them fall unashamed and unchecked. “I need to say goodbye, Lydia. Because if I do not say goodbye, I can never be free. And I need to be free.” He tucked Katherine’s belongings inside his jacket, close to his heart. “So be at peace, Lydia.”

Jasper didn’t know what he expected. Just then, a ray of sunlight slashed through the clear, glass windowpanes, and cast Lydia’s smile in a sea of shimmering light, a kind of benediction. An absolution of the guilt he carried. In that smile dwelled a woman who’d not have ever wanted him to punish himself for the loss of her life.

Then the sunlight faded, dimmed by a cloud.

Jasper blinked, and wiped his tear-dampened cheeks.

“Your Grace?”

He froze, his body going taut at the unexpected appearance of Wrinkleton.

“Yes, Wrinkleton,” he said with his back to the man, unwilling to turn and display his earlier expression of emotion for the servant.

Wrinkleton cleared his throat. “The Marquess of Guilford arrived a short while ago. I took the liberty of showing him to your office. He said he was here on a matter of import.”

Jasper frowned, turning quickly on his heel. He nodded and gave a murmured thanks.

Jasper couldn’t imagine what matter of import should take Guilford away from London during the height of the Season—with the exception of one person.

Heart racing, Jasper all but sprinted through the castle toward his office.

Knowing his panicked thoughts surely foolish, Jasper paused outside his office doors and smoothed his palms over the front of his jacket.

He entered the office.

Guilford stood over by the sideboard, pouring a glass of brandy. He glanced up, with a half-smile for Jasper. “So good to see you, Bainbridge,” he said over the rim of his glass. “I hope you don’t mind, I availed myself to your spirits.” Pause. “You look like hell.”

Jasper grinned, and Guilford choked on his brandy. “By God, did you just smile?”

Jasper’s smile widened, and he crossed over to his desk. He sat, hip propped on the edge, arms folded over his chest. “I did.”

Guilford shook his head and took another sip. He gestured to Jasper’s decanters. “A drink, friend?”

Jasper chuckled at his friend’s comfortable show as host in Jasper’s own home. He waved off the offer. My father was a wastrel. He spent his days and nights at the gaming tables, and indulging in spirits, and he squandered everything not entailed.

Even in the darkest days since Katherine had left when he’d craved the mindlessness of drink, he’d not indulged in spirits—not when he’d be forever tormented with thoughts of all she’d suffered because of her father’s drinking and gambling.

Jasper motioned for Guilford to sit. “What takes you away from London?” Do you have word of my wife?

Something in the hesitant way Guilford’s gaze slid from his made Jasper wish he’d not sworn off drink. Jasper straightened and claimed the seat behind his massive desk.

“I’ve seen your wife,” Guilford said after he’d taken his seat, volunteering information that saved Jasper from asking the question that would expose the depth of his feelings for Katherine.

Jasper steepled his hands in front of him, atop his chest to still their tremble. “Oh?” His heart raced with a desperate urgency to demand his friend spill every last word he had of Katherine.