She shook her head, dislodging one of those brown ringlets. “You misunderstand me, Your Grace. I don’t give a fig about the type or quality of the fabrics. I merely want to make a selection of my own. It is rather tedious going through life having every decision made for you. It seems like such a very small thing, selecting ones fabric, and yet it is a luxury I’m not afforded. Instead, I must do as my mother sees fit, whether how happy or unhappy those decisions make me.”
Jasper didn’t know if Katherine was aware of it, but somewhere along the way, she’d ceased to speak of fabrics and instead spoke of Bertrand Ekstrom.
It was also the moment he knew he would wed her.
“What else, Katherine?” he said, softly.
“I don’t believe you’d squander your wealth.” She glanced down at the snow. “I believe you to be a gentleman who’d not leave your family destitute, at the mercy of distant relatives.”
“And is that what happened to you, Katherine? Your father left your family destitute?”
She snapped her mouth closed, and her lips flattened into a single, mutinous line.
A vise-like pressure tightened around the heart he’d thought deadened. Except, if it was dead, he should not feel this dull pain at the thought of a young Katherine destitute, desperate, at the mercy of others. If her father were not dead, he’d gladly grind the bastard’s face beneath the weight of his fist.
Poor, Katherine.
Katherine glared up at him, her eyes snapping fire. “I do not want your pity.”
She possessed more strength and courage than most gentlemen he’d known in his life. “I wouldn’t dare pity you,” he murmured. Jasper didn’t believe he could identify a single lady who’d be so bold as to propose marriage, all to save herself from her scheming mother’s machinations.
Katherine’s eyes ran a path over his face, as if trying to ascertain the sincerity of his words, and he hated that his vibrant, spirited Katherine should have such a guarded look to her. She nodded slowly. “Well, then. Thank you again for the volume.”
She made to step around him, but he placed himself in front of her.
Her breath stirred little puffs of white winter air about her. She shifted the burdens of the book and reticule she carried. “What is it, then?” Heavy annoyance underlined her words.
There was something so very endearing about her unguarded reaction to him.
The volume in her hand fell again into the snow. Poor Wordsworth would be in quite the state if he could see the condition of his poor leather volume.
Jasper felt himself grinning in response.
“Yes,” he said.
An unladylike curse escaped her as she bent down to retrieve her volume. “Yes, what, Your Grace?”
“Yes, Jasper,” he corrected. “And yes, I’ll marry you.”
Chapter 13
After he’d made certain that Katherine had made her way safely home, the implications of their meeting hit Jasper with all the force of a heap of stone being placed upon his chest. With his mind spinning and gut clenching, Jasper, for the first time in many years, sought out someone else’s counsel.
He clasped his hands behind his back and paced the Aubusson carpet in the Marquess of Guilford’s office.
Now, it was one thing seeking out counsel, it was an altogether different thing in broaching such a delicate matter for discussion.
Guilford rested, hip propped at the edge of his wide mahogany desk. “I must say, this visit is rather something of a surprise.”
Jasper glared over at him, and continued pacing.
What manner of madness had possessed him to accept Katherine’s offer of marriage? He’d been so enchanted, so utterly beguiled by the sight of her with that silly bonnet and preposterous list, his acceptance had just tumbled from his lips.
He’d not considered the ramifications of marriage to…not just to Katherine, but to any woman.
He’d not risk an emotional connection, and he most certainly would not risk begetting another heir upon any wife. Nay, not just any wife.
He stopped abruptly in the middle of Guilford’s floor.
Lady Katherine Adamson.
Jasper wiped the back of his hand across his eyes.
Christ.
“I venture something has happened to bring you out of your lair?”
Oh, something had certainly happened all right.
“I agreed to marry Lady Katherine Adamson.”
His friend cocked his head. “What was that?”
Jasper resumed pacing. “Marriage. To Katherine…Lady Katherine,” he amended. He slashed the air with his hand. “I know what you are thinking.”
Guilford snorted. “Oh, I’d wager you most certainly do not.”
Jasper gritted his teeth at the obvious humor in his friend’s tone. He was glad one of them found the situation bloody amusing. The reality of it was, that it was a blasted nightmare. He most certainly could not wed Katherine.
There was the matter of children.
And her damned smile. And her tight brown ringlets.
And…
Lydia.
He froze again, struck by the realization that he’d not thought of Lydia. What was happening to him?
“So you offered for the lady.”
Jasper glanced up. “Not quite,” he muttered under his breath.
Guilford scratched his brow. “What was that? I believe you said—”
“That I accepted the lady’s offer.”
A bark of laughter filled the room. Guilford shoved himself off his desk and strode over to the collection of crystal decanters on the table at the center of the room. “Am I to believe the lady offered for you? Lady Katherine offered for you?”
Jasper bristled at the insult. What was so bloody hilarious about Lady Katherine’s interest in him?
Guilford must have followed the direction of his thoughts. “I must say I believe this is the first I know of a lady offering for a gentleman.” He touched the decanter to an empty glass and splashed several fingerfuls into it. He held it out to Jasper.
Jasper waved it off. “I can’t wed her.”
The glass froze mid-way to Guilford’s mouth. He lowered it to his side. “Never tell me you’d renege on your offer…”
“It was her offer,” Jasper bit out. And then, “No, I wouldn’t,” he sighed. He might be a coldhearted bastard, dead on the inside, but he was still a gentleman. To not wed the lady now would be the height of dishonorable.
Guilford held his glass up in salute. “Well, then, congratulations are in order.”
Jasper growled and resumed pacing. “I cannot wed her,” he said more to himself.
“I believe you’ve already pointed out that you are a bit late in that regard,” Guilford drawled.
Jasper strode over to the crystal decanters and reached for the nearest bottle. He poured a glass full to the rim.
“And spirits, too? Well, this is quite the day, indeed. What should I expect next? Horses to fly over the Serpentine?”
Jasper downed the contents in a single swallow. He grimaced at the fiery path it blazed down his throat. Whiskey. He’d picked bloody whiskey.
It seemed fitting, considering the day he was having.
Nor would it do to point out in the days since he’d met Katherine he’d consumed far more spirits than he had in the course of the four years. Guilford was already enjoying this a good deal too much.
“She had a list,” Jasper said at last.
From over the rim of his glass, Guilford’s grin widened. “A list?”
Jasper reached for another decanter, this time selecting a bottle of brandy. He sloshed a healthy amount of spirits into his glass and took a long swallow. “A list,” he growled, waving his glass about. “You know, a list? Something one articulates…”
Guilford laughed. “I know what a list is. Don’t be a bloody arse. What manner of list?”
All the Reasons to Wed Katherine
The most recent events were disastrous in ev
ery way; Katherine’s offer, and his acceptance would only upset the carefully protected world Jasper had built for himself.
And yet…
He smiled in remembrance.
Guilford choked on a mouthful of brandy. “I say, are you smiling now?” He glanced over at the wide floor-length windows, and squinted. “Surely there are horses flying. There must be.”
Jasper set his glass down hard enough to send droplets of moisture spraying over the rim of the glass and onto the rose-inlaid table. He’d had enough of Guilford having fun at his expense. He scowled until the grin fell from his friend’s face.
“It was a bloody list of reasons to marry the lady.”
Guilford’s lips flattened into a tight line. The faint tremble however, indicated the concerted effort he made to tamp down his amusement. “That must have been quite an impressive list, then.”
I can provide as many children as desired…
Jasper’s eyes slid closed as he thought of the generous curve of her breast weighted in his hand; the peak of that mound of flesh…and not for the first time, he wondered as to the shade of that precious peak. He’d wager it was the faintest pink, like—
“By all the saints in heaven, you’re smitten with the lady.”
Jasper jerked to the moment. He felt a dull flush of heat creeping up his neck, and he yanked at his hastily tied cravat. By God, he was the Duke of Bainbridge. He did not turn red with embarrassment, and certainly not over a young lady in her first, going on second, Season.
“I am not smitten. I’m…” he searched for words. “Merely driven out of a sense of pity for her circumstances.” Those words rang like a lie in his mind and in his heart.
“Pity?” Guilford pressed. He folded his arms across his chest. “Well, then, let us hear it? What would drive the miserable, recluse, all powerful Duke of Bainbridge to forsake his vow to remain unwed out of…” he arched a brow, “What did you say? Pity?”
“There’s the matter of Ekstrom.”
Guilford blinked. “You would marry her because of Bertrand Ekstrom?” Thick incredulity underlined his question.
The truth of it was, standing alongside the frozen river, with Katherine looking up at him with wide, brown eyes, Bertrand Ekstrom had been the absolute furthest thing from his mind. Now, the thought of her with the loathsome, foul, letch unleashed a primitive beast from deep inside him that wanted to tear from Guilford’s office and hunt down Ekstrom.
“It was mutually beneficial for the both of us.” Jasper settled for a safe answer.
His friend swirled the remaining amber contents of his glass. “How very practical of the both of you.”
With her directness and bold-spirit, Katherine Adamson seemed a good deal more practical than any other ladies he’d encountered in the past, including Lydia. His wife had dedicated her attention to her wardrobe and the running of his household staff. Furthermore, he could not imagine docile, gentle-spirited Lydia thwarting her parents’ marital arrangements for her by boldly proposing to a gentleman.
Guilford set his glass down hard on the table with a loud thunk. “I would be remiss if I failed to inform you that Lady Katherine Adamson’s intentions in wedding you are not strictly practical. A young lady would not brave your stern, miserable countenance if there were not feelings on her part.”
Those words sunk into Jasper’s brain. He blinked, and then gave his head a hard shake. “Bah, you’re mad. Katherine is practical. She merely proposed a marriage of convenience.”
His friend snorted. “Ballocks. I wager you are in for a good deal of trouble if you enter into this union believing that.”
Jasper’s jaw hardened. He’d not bother with Guilford’s foolish suppositions. With the exception of two kisses, two passionate kisses that had set his body on fire with a potent lust, and a desire to lay her down…
He shook his head so hard a strand of hair fell across his eye. Jasper brushed it back angrily. “I don’t care to discuss the matter anymore.”
Guilford’s grin widened. “May I point out that you sought out my opinion?”
“No, I didn’t,” Jasper said, harshly.
“You didn’t?”
“I didn’t,” Jasper confirmed.
“Then what—?”
“I merely came by to see if you’ll be a witness to my nuptials.” There would be no banns read in three successive Sundays. Jasper’s next visit would be with the lady’s guardian to put his formal offer to, and then they’d wed. He had little desire to be exposed to the tons scrutiny. They’d wed, retreat to Kent, and carry on their own, separate, well-ordered lives.
Guilford’s eyes moved over his face, and then a long beleaguered sigh escaped him. “I do not care for that look in your eyes. As your friend, I need to say that this is a horrendous idea. You don’t allow a lady to offer marriage and wed her on a matter of convenience. Yes, a dreadful idea. Horrible. Bloody awful. All around madness.”
Jasper gritted his teeth hard enough that they clicked together noisily. “Will you serve as a witness?”
“Of course, I will.” Guilford strode over, and slammed his hand against Jasper’s back. “Congratulations, friend. And good luck.”
As Jasper took his leave he suspected he was going to need a good deal more than luck.
Chapter 14
Yes the realities of life so cold,
So cowardly, so ready to betray,
So stinted in the measure of their grace
As we pronounce them, doing them much wrong,
Have been to me more bountiful than hope,
Less timid than desire—but that is past…
Katherine’s gaze remained fixed on the words before her. She shifted the heavy leather volume given her by Jasper; the words dark, the message bleak.
And she’d always before preferred the poems that recognized the flaws in love and the world around one, because she knew the flaws of love and the world around her.
So why was she ruminating over six lines, despairing over their bleakness? What great shift had occurred in the universe that she instead wanted to escape into the gentle joy and optimism to be found in Byron’s sonnets?
“You have been staring at that same page for nearly an hour,” Anne called from the seat she occupied at the pianoforte.
Katherine started, and the book slipped from her fingers onto her lap. “Surely it’s not been an hour.” She snapped it closed with a decided click.
Anne continued to play the haunting strains of Dibdin’s famous “Tom Bowling”. She waggled her brows. “Oh, it most certainly has been. Why, I’ve played pieces by Handel and Corelli and Gluck—”
Katherine set her book down beside her on the sofa. “Your point is quite clear, Anne.”
Anne grinned and continued to play flawlessly. Her quick fingers moved expertly over the keys.
Katherine thought of the rather pathetic list she’d given to Jasper and winced. There’d been nary a ladylike quality to recommend her as a wife. Anne could fill several sheets of parchment with all her ladylike attributes. It had never mattered to Katherine the vast differences in them—until now. Now, she wished she didn’t possess the tight brown ringlets and a remarkable lack of skills on the pianoforte, and embroidering, and watercolors, and…
“You’ve gone all serious again.”
Katherine trailed the tip of her finger over the bruised leather spine of Wordsworth’s volume. Several tumbles into the thick blanket of snow when she’d last met Jasper had resulted in a hopelessly ruined leather cover. “Have I?” she murmured, distractedly. It had been three days since they’d last met.
Three days since she’d given him that silly list.
Three days since he’d accepted her offer of marriage.
And since then, she’d not heard a word from him. Not a letter. Not a visit.
Katherine jumped to her feet and began to pace.
She’d surely shocked him with her request at Hyde Park. Perhaps he’d merely come to his senses and merely intended
to carry on as though that particular exchange had never occurred. Katherine would then have to go on to marry that horrid Mr. Ekstrom. Her stomach tightened into pained, twisted knots, and she wanted to blame them upon that horrid Mr. Ekstrom, but knew it was the thought of Jasper altering his decision that caused those pained, twisted knots.
“You seem rather upset.”
Katherine glanced over at her sister. “I’m not upset.” Only filled with panic at the prospect of wedding Mr. Ekstrom.
“It is that Mr. Ekstrom, isn’t it?” Anne stopped playing. She shoved back the bench at her pianoforte and it scraped along the wood floor. “We merely have to find that pendant…”
“The pendant will do nothing, Anne. It is a foolish, childlike, wishful dream.”
Anne’s brow wrinkled. “But Aldora and Michael’s…”
“Aldora and Michael’s marriage had nothing to do with that silly trinket,” her cry filled the cavernous space of the parlor. Her throat worked reflexively. Oh, how she envied Anne her innocence. Anne believed in dreams and wishes and magical pendants given to hopeful ladies by greedy gypsies.
A flash of hurt filled Anne’s pale blue eyes. She tipped her chin up a notch. “I know what you believe of me, Katherine. You and Aldora. You believe I’m fanciful and that I don’t possess a brain in my head.”
Katherine shook her head, besieged by sudden guilt. “Never, Anne.” She’d seen her as the sister in need of protection from the woes thrust upon their family by a wastrel father, but never an empty-headed fool.
Her sister continued as though she hadn’t spoken. “You both believed I wasn’t aware of our financial circumstances. You believed I remained immune to the direness of our situation.”
Shock slammed into Katherine, but Anne went on. “I am not silly or—”
“I don’t believe you’re silly—”
“Empty-headed,” Anne said, her eyes blazed with more emotion than Katherine ever remembered in her gentle eyes. “I am, I might be, fanciful. And I might dream of love, and happily ever afters, but that does not make me silly.” She angled her head. “Well, it might seem silly but I believe it is more hopeful. I’m hopeful that there are men who are good and don’t squander their family’s wealth, and leave them destitute, and force them to sell off all their possessions and release all their servants.”
A Heart of a Duke Collection: Volume 1-A Regency Bundle Page 22