The Gentleman's Bride Search

by Deborah Hale

  Jasper Chase’s sorrow and regret affected Evangeline in a way his hostility never could. It flowed beneath her defenses, weakening the foundations until they threatened to crumble. Might she have better success reaching him if she changed her approach?

  Making a conscious effort to soften her voice, she asked, “Could it be that you are driven to protect the family you have now because you could not protect the one you lost?”

  She did not mean it as an accusation but rather a possible insight into his actions.

  Jasper Chase did not take her question in the spirit she had intended. His head snapped back as if he’d been dealt a powerful blow. He stared at her with a deeply aggrieved look. “I will thank you not to speculate on my motives, Miss Fairfax. I have tried to do the best I can for my family while endeavoring to make a positive difference in the lives of people few others pay any regard.”

  Evangeline tried to summon the words to assure him that she did not question his feelings for his children or the vital importance of his philanthropy. But the look of misery etched on his bold, handsome features paralyzed her tongue. Her words had sown the pain in his eyes and in his heart. She feared she would only make matters worse if she said anything more.

  Mr. Chase heaved a deep sigh. “Perhaps you are right to believe it is impossible to do important work and raise a family properly. I have no choice but to try. If you have any respect for me or love for my children, please do as I ask. Whether they or you realize it, my family is better off here.”

  Of course she loved his children! Evangeline bristled at the mere suggestion that her feelings might be otherwise. As for their father, her respect for him had increased so much during the past ten days that she might almost mistake it for a different feeling altogether.

  “Please, sir...” Could she make him understand when she was not certain she understood, herself? For far too long, she had questioned his feelings for his family. But she had been wrong. Now that she knew about his work and his past, she had begun to value Jasper Chase as he deserved. That did not mean she was mistaken about the importance of him spending more time with his children.

  “I think you have said enough, Miss Fairfax.” He backed away from his writing table to stand before the window. There he angled himself to look outside. “And I have probably said too much. If it will not be possible for you to oblige me, perhaps you ought to consider leaving Amberwood sooner than we discussed.”

  Was he politely threatening to dismiss her if she refused to obey him? Evangeline could not decide if she was more aggrieved or outraged. Her head felt too tight suddenly to contain her raging thoughts, as did her chest to hold her stormy heart.

  “Indeed, sir.” She spoke with clipped precision, desperate to maintain her composure. “I believe you have said altogether too much.”

  With that, she marched out of his study without asking his leave to go. She did not trust herself to stay another minute without risking a humiliating outburst of tears.

  * * *

  What had he done? Jasper chided himself that evening when his temper had cooled. The last thing he wanted was to have Evangeline Fairfax leave Amberwood after having managed its nursery so capably for the past six years. He wished she did not have to go two months from now to open her charity school and he could not abide the prospect of her leaving immediately.

  Throughout the afternoon, as his children and guests had amused themselves in the garden, he had done his best to stay away from Miss Fairfax. Part of him feared he might say something that would provoke her to pack her bags that very night. Another part worried that he might back down and grovel in an effort to persuade her to stay.

  He could not avoid her when he’d gone to the nursery to hear his children’s prayers and tuck them in for the night. Yet somehow she’d managed to maintain a safe distance between them without betraying any hint of their discord to her young pupils. He’d rather expected the children to besiege him with more pleas to go to Manchester, but no one had said a word about it. Jasper wondered if Miss Fairfax had spoken to them on the subject and what she had said. But he would rather have jumped off the roof than ask her. He’d left the nursery and headed to dinner in a fog of bewilderment.

  He was grateful not to have to talk much during the meal that evening. He allowed Miss Anstruther to drone on, with occasional caustic interjections from Mrs. Leveson, while he nodded at appropriate intervals. Meanwhile, his thoughts returned to his unsettling interview with Evangeline Fairfax.

  He had been unduly severe with her, which he regretted. A month ago, it would not have surprised or troubled him to disagree with her. They might have argued over their difference of opinion, but he would not have felt the sting of personal betrayal. Nor would he have lashed out at her so fiercely.

  Back then, Miss Fairfax would not have presumed to comment on the most painful experience of his life because she would have known nothing about it. Had he been foolish to trust her with such a sensitive confidence, giving her ammunition to use against him if she chose? Jasper’s caution and sense of privacy agreed it had been a mistake, but part of him was still not convinced. Confiding about his past, with someone capable of understanding its effect on his present character and choices, seemed to lighten a burden he had not realized he was carrying.

  But if Evangeline Fairfax understood him so well, his conscience challenged, did that mean she was right about his reasons for wanting to keep his children away from Manchester? And were those reasons good enough to justify it?

  While his guests ate and conversed around him, his thoughts continued to spin, always coming up with more questions than answers. He went through the motions of dining, scarcely noticing what he put in his mouth. It came as a surprise when his mother-in-law rose and led the other ladies away. If Jasper expected to be left to reflect in peace, Piers Webster soon disabused him of that notion.

  Looking from Jasper to Norton Brookes, the older man shook his head. “What’s gotten into the pair of you? You hardly said two words between you during dinner. You looked as if your minds were a hundred miles away. Not bad news from Manchester, I hope. Ever since the war, it’s been nothing but labor agitations.”

  So Norton had been distracted during dinner, as well? Jasper wondered if it had anything to do with Mrs. Dawson.

  Though he did not want to argue with Piers Webster, Jasper was anxious to steer the conversation away from the question of what had preoccupied him and his friend. “If the workers were treated better there would be no need for agitation. Unless something is done to improve conditions, it will only lead to more violence.”

  That was another reason he wanted to keep his children as far as possible from the industrial heartland. With workers increasingly desperate, there had been riots and killings, machinery destroyed, mills burned. The government’s response had been to increase repression, banning large gatherings and making it a hanging offense to wreck machinery. In Jasper’s opinion, that was like adding fuel to a boiler then jamming the pressure valve. An explosion was inevitable.

  “You may be right,” Mr. Webster conceded with obvious reluctance. “None of your lot were mixed up with that Blanketeers March in the spring, yet you haven’t gone bankrupt.”

  This hint of respect for his work made Jasper forget Evangeline Fairfax...at least temporarily. “I do not make as great a profit as some, but I am able to provide a good life for my family. What more can a man ask?”

  He appealed to his friend. “We cannot take our money with us when we leave this life, can we, Norton?”

  “Indeed not.” Norton Brookes roused from his abstraction enough to quote Scripture. “‘Lay up for yourselves treasures in Heaven, where neither moth nor rust doth corrupt, and where thieves do not break through nor steal. For where your treasure is, there will your heart be also.’”

  Jasper thought his friend’s words ended on a wistful note.
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  “It is hard to argue with the Good Book.” Piers Webster leaned back in his chair and laced his fingers over his waistcoat. “Tell me more about your mill, Chase. What changes should I make first if I wanted to try your system?”

  “Do away with tokens and reform your truck shop.” Jasper rattled off his answer, eager to take advantage of Webster’s unexpected receptiveness.

  A lively conversation followed, with the older man challenging a number of his ideas, while Jasper questioned the old way of doing business. He thought he was making some headway toward persuading his late father-in-law’s partner that his radical ideas had some merit, after all.

  “This is fascinating,” Norton Brookes remarked at last in a tone that contradicted his words. “But is it not time we joined the ladies?”

  Jasper would have preferred to continue discussing his ideas, but Mr. Webster sprang to his feet. “Quite right, Vicar. We should not keep the fair ones waiting.”

  The three men exchanged a few more words about business as they headed to the drawing room.

  “You must tell Margaret about this system of yours.” Mr. Webster glanced around the room where some of the ladies were chatting.

  There was no sign of Miss Webster among them. Her father asked Mrs. Thorpe her whereabouts and was directed to a screened alcove. Gesturing for Jasper to accompany him, Mr. Webster strode toward it and found his daughter tracing a shade of Verity Dawson.

  Margaret Webster cast her father and Jasper a teasing grin. “So you gentlemen have decided to grace us with your presence at last.” She held up her work for their inspection—a tracing of Mrs. Dawson’s profile. It had been cast on a sheet of paper by a special lamp. “It is a fine likeness, don’t you think? Verity has such a lovely, delicate profile. Now I only need to transfer it to black paper and cut it out.”

  “You made a fine job of it.” Her father thrust Jasper forward. “Now you must trace one of our host. His profile may not be delicate, but I reckon it is handsome enough.”

  Mrs. Dawson wasted no time taking his hint. She offered Miss Webster a few breathless words of thanks then fled the alcove.

  “Papa,” Margaret Webster protested, “you should not order everyone around to suit yourself. Mr. Chase might find it tiresome to sit still so long. He might rather enjoy more of Miss Anstruther’s conversation. He seemed quite engrossed by it at dinner.”

  The lady was amusing herself at his expense. Jasper wondered if that might be a sign of romantic interest.

  He chuckled to let her know her irony had not escaped him. “I have held a monopoly on Miss Anstruther’s conversation long enough for one evening. As I am sure your father can tell you, a little healthy competition is better for business.”

  Miss Webster laughed. “Then this party must be thriving, for there is plenty of competition for your attention, sir.”

  Her father looked pleased with them both. “You young people seem to be getting on well. Sit down, my boy, and let Margaret trace your shade. She is a dab hand at anything artistic.”

  Jasper did as he was bid. “I’d be grateful if you would, Miss Webster. My children might like a profile of me to hang in their nursery. Would you be kind enough to oblige me for their sakes?”

  “Certainly.” She hung a fresh sheet of paper on the easel and picked up her sketching pencil. “Now look that way and try to keep as still as you can. I will try not to take too long.”

  “Don’t rush,” her father advised. “Make a good job of it. Now I must excuse myself. Mrs. Thorpe wants me to make up a foursome at the card table.”

  After he hurried away, his daughter set to work. “Don’t mind Papa, Mr. Chase. He is the best of men, but no more subtle than a brickbat.”

  Was that why Miss Webster had seemed uncomfortable around him, Jasper wondered, because she was embarrassed by her father’s blatant efforts to push them together? He could hardly blame her for not wanting to appear ridiculous.

  “Subtlety is not necessarily a virtue.” He tried not to move his mouth too much as he spoke. “When people make themselves plain, you know where you stand.”

  Miss Webster’s pencil scratched softly against the paper. “It was plain to me that you had something on your mind at dinner and it was not Miss Anstruther’s conversation.”

  It took a great deal of willpower for Jasper not to keep from turning to look at the lady. Though she had not asked in so many words what preoccupied him, there could be no mistaking her curiosity. While he shrank from telling her about his disagreement with his children’s governess, he fancied he could hear Evangeline Fairfax urging him to talk about himself with Miss Webster.

  “You are very perceptive,” he said, continuing to stare straight ahead. “In fact, there was something troubling me. My children want to come and live in Manchester. What do you think of that?”

  “Manchester?” Her tone crackled with scorn. “Why would they want to live there?”

  Until that moment, Margaret Webster had been only the least objectionable of the ladies Miss Fairfax had selected as a possible match for him. Now he’d discovered something important they might have in common.

  “You do not like the city?” He tried not to influence her by betraying his own opinion.

  “Why would I?” Her pencil sounded louder as it moved over the paper. “So crowded and grimy and the smell! Your children are fortunate to have such a lovely home in the country. The only town I would care to live in is Bath. I visit there as often as I can.”

  The tightness in Jasper’s shoulders eased. How pleasant it was to converse with someone who agreed with him. He knew he should take advantage of this time with Miss Webster while they were almost alone. What would his resident matchmaker advise him to do?

  “I have not had the pleasure of visiting Bath.” He darted a sidelong glance at her. “Can I prevail upon you to tell me about it? What makes it such a superior place?”

  “I shall be glad to,” she replied. “The only difficulty will be in deciding where to begin. I admire its history and its elegance...”

  As the lady warmed to her subject, Jasper congratulated himself on making some real progress with her. In spite of his earlier quarrel with Miss Fairfax, he looked forward to giving her a full report.

  Chapter Ten

  The birds outside her window woke Evangeline the next morning with their joyful singing. She wished they would all fly away and let her sleep, for she had gotten little rest in the previous hours. Hard as she’d tried to put her argument with Jasper Chase out of her mind, bits of it had run through her thoughts over and over, making her head ache and her stomach churn.

  Her employer had made no further mention of her leaving Amberwood. Then again, he’d had little opportunity with the children always present. He must know as well as she how they would react to such an announcement. She resented his attempt to intimidate her that way. It reminded her of how the Pendergast teachers had made Leah and her obey by threatening to punish their more sensitive friends.

  The tactic had worked in both cases. In their later years at school, she and Leah had been less overtly rebellious. After her interview with Mr. Chase, Evangeline had warned his children not to mention going to Manchester until their father got used to the idea. Though, after the way he’d reacted, she doubted he would ever get used to it.

  Perhaps it was just as well they’d had this falling-out, Evangeline reflected as she dragged herself out of bed to face the day. Lately she had become too close to him for her peace of mind. She’d begun to question whether someone else might do just as well at founding a new charity school, while the Chase family might find her impossible to replace.

  It would not be the first time her liking for a strong-willed man had tempted her to abandon her plans for the future. Fortunately she had come to her senses when Mr. Preston tried to remake her into his ideal of the perfe
ct submissive wife, as she was coming to them now. Her teachers had been wrong about a great many things, but they had been right to warn her that she would only get a husband by subduing her strong will. Men like Jasper Chase would always insist on having their way, even when their way was wrong and hers was right!

  With that thought, Evangeline stabbed the last pin deep into her hair and marched out of the room as quietly as she could manage. Only consideration for her sleeping pupils kept her from slamming the door of her bedchamber behind her.

  The sight of Jasper Chase sitting at the nursery table made her jump back with a barely stifled shriek stuck in her throat.

  “What has you so nervous this morning?” he demanded in a gruff whisper. “Have you been reading Gothic novels before bed?”

  Evangeline was inclined to view the question as a deliberate insult until she recalled that his late wife had enjoyed reading such books. Besides, he was pouring her coffee—a service for which she was willing to forgive a great deal.

  “I did not expect to see you here this morning.” She marshaled her dignity as much as possible after her foolish fright.

  Mr. Chase appeared puzzled for a moment and then surprised. “You mean because of our discussion? I thought the issue was resolved in a most satisfactory manner.”

  As she took a seat opposite him, Evangeline gave a derisive sniff. “Satisfactory for you, perhaps. I do not respond well to being bullied, especially when the harm is threatened to others.”

  She would have said more, but the rich aroma of the coffee was impossible to resist. She settled for fixing her employer with a fierce scowl as she lifted the cup to her lips.

  “Bullied?” he sputtered, clearly hard-pressed to keep his voice down. “Threatened? I did no such thing.”

  Evangeline’s brows flew up. “Then what did you mean by saying I must leave Amberwood at once if I did not discourage the children from asking to go live with you in Manchester? Was it a jest, perhaps, that I misunderstood?”