His friend grinned. “Never tell me you’ve heroically rescued another young lady besides Lady Katherine Adamson?”
“I didn’t—”
“I merely noted that since you met your Lady Katherine you seem in a far less black mood than usual.”
“She is not my Lady Katherine.” He spoke through clenched teeth. “Do not make more of what took place at the Frost Fair than there was.” Jasper picked up his pen and proceeded to compose his note to Lady Katherine. He’d not dare mention to Guilford that the high-spirted creature had occupied a corner of his mind since that chance meeting upon the Thames River. “The lady’s affairs are her own.”
“Oh?” Guilford took a sip. “I’d just imagined you’d be curious about the young lady.”
Jasper began to count. He’d not indulge his friend. Jasper was not curious about anything, particularly marriageable misses with tart tongues. “Why should I care about matters involving the young lady?” The question was spoken for both Guilford’s benefit, as much as for his own.
Guilford passed his glass back and forth between his hands. “Very well, then I shall not mention…” He took another slow, deliberate drink.
Jasper folded his hands on top of the desk. “What?” that one curt question cost him the hard-won effort to maintain a semblance of disinterest where the lady was concerned.
“Rumors would have it that her mother, the Countess of Wakefield is eager to make a match between Lady Katherine and Mr. Bertrand Ekstrom.” Jasper’s brows dipped. What parent would dare wed their child to Bertrand Ekstrom? Jasper had known the loathsome bully in his Oxford days. It was no secret that the bastard had unnatural proclivities behind chamber doors. On the heel of that thought came the sickening image of Bertrand Ekstrom’s stubby fingers binding Katherine’s wrists to a bedpost and …
The pen snapped in his fingers.
Guilford frowned. “Are you all right?”
No, he was not all right, and he wished his friend would leave him to his own miseries. Jasper yanked his top desk drawer open and pulled out another pen.
Guilford carried on with a wave of his hand. “It would seem Ekstrom is next in line for the earldom behind Lady Katherine’s young brother.” His brow furrowed. “The boy’s a mere thirteen or fourteen years, I believe.”
Jasper would have bartered his own black soul to the devil for just one more breath from his son. Yet, Lady Katherine’s mother would consign her to a life in which she’d be subjected to Ekstrom’s perversions all on the possibility of a what-if? In that moment, he was struck by something he’d thought long dead and buried—sympathy for Lady Katherine. Such a spirited, bold woman deserved far more than an avaricious parent who’d sacrifice her happiness.
Guilford must have detected that he had an avid audience with Jasper, for he went on in a low, hushed tone. “I’ve heard Ekstrom has taken to using hot wax to scald…”
A film of red rage descended across his vision at the thought of Katherine’s skin marred by the weasly-bastard. He forced himself to take a steadying breath. “I know what you are attempting to do.”
Because in the end, Lady Katherine and her future didn’t matter to him. Jasper’s future included no one and that was far safer than worrying after the fate of one young lady.
His friend sat forward in his seat. “Oh, and what is that?”
“The lady does not matter,” he lied. She did. Whether Jasper wished it or not. Perhaps it was the bond of pulling her flailing body from the river, and thumping water from her lungs until she breathed once more. Then his interest in her future could be explained. It should not matter the tinkling bell-like quality of her laughter, or the impish smile…his fascination with such attributes could be less easily explained.
Guilford finished his brandy, and set his empty glass down upon the edge of Jasper’s desk. “You’d live your life where no one matters, Bainbridge. You’d go through life, cold, unfeeling, untouched. That,” He shook his head. “Well, that is a sad way to live.”
Jasper surged to his feet. “What would you have me do?”
“I’d have you rejoin the living,” Guilford replied automatically. He stood and met Jasper’s stare. “I do not know if there is any real interest on your part in the Lady Katherine. I don’t know if there is any young lady who could ever recapture your heart after Lydia’s death. But I would that you try and at least find happiness where you can.”
Jasper waited for the familiar sensation, that sensation of being kicked in the gut whenever he heard his wife’s name mentioned.