For Love of the Duke(98)

With a curse, Jasper surged to his feet. The abruptness of the movement toppled her mountain of white and ivory garments.

A lone green piece, like the hint of earth poking out from a blanket of snow. Jasper swiped at the reticule. He passed it back and forth between his hands, and with a snarl, brought his arm back to hurl the item across the room.

Then froze.

He closed his eyes again and sucked in a breath. Not even his potent fury had shielded him from the depth of love he carried for Katherine. He exhaled on a broken, shuddery hiss.

Jasper wandered over to the corner of the room, and peered out into the sun-kissed grounds below. The lush green of the rolling hillsides and noisy chatter of birds so vastly different than the frozen world he and Katherine had dwelt within during their short time together.

He tugged at the drawstring of her reticule, and glanced distractedly down into the small purse. His heart paused a beat.

She’d taken the small heart pendant he’d slept with since Guilford had brought the items to him a lifetime ago. Pained regret tugged at him. He reached inside and pulled out a lone scrap of paper.

He knew the contents of her small reticule enough to recognize the folded note a more recent addition.#p#分页标题#e#

With trembling fingers, Jasper unfolded the sheet.

Dearest Jasper,

By this point, you have learned the worst kinds of truth of me. I am a coward. You wed a coward. I convinced myself the offer I’d put to you that snowy day in Hyde Park was driven of desperation, an attempt to avoid marriage to Mr. Ekstrom. Now I can be true enough to myself, and now to you, at least on the pages of this sheet, to at last admit, my offer had nothing to do with horrid Mr. Ekstrom, and everything to do with you.

I love you. Rather desperately, I’m afraid. And I now know you can never love me, which is through no fault of your own. Your Lydia will forever hold your heart, and if I were to remain at Castle Blackwood I would be forced to face the truth of that love, and the depth of my own despair when you could never return the sentiments I carried in my heart. And that I could not bear.

I wish you happiness.

I love you.

Forever Yours,

Katherine

Jasper’s throat worked spasmodically. His fingers curled over the lone page until it crumpled noisily in his hands. Panicked, he lightened his hold, and awkwardly smoothed the precious sheet of vellum.

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.