by L G Rollins
“I’d advise against it.” Brox said in his barrister voice. “Doing so would garner a lot of attention.”
“Which would be good, right?”
Brox shook his head. “Which would end your career and make Ambassador Leng the talk of the town. Then, once the judge exonerated him, his opportunities would multiply and you’d be discredited and disgraced. From the ambassador’s position, you taking him to court with nothing more than you have now is the best thing you could do for him, second only to getting pictures of those documents he so desperately wants.”
Jasper buried his face in his hands. This had to end. He couldn’t live life forever watching over Ju and Mrs. Zhi wondering when the next assassin would come. He couldn’t forever be holding his breath, waiting for the day Leng decided to get at him through Brox and Tressa.
“He hasn’t sent anyone for you, right?” Jasper asked. “You and Tressa—”
Brox held up a hand. “He’s left us alone thus far. But our guard is up and we’re being vigilant. You don’t have to worry.”
At least that was something. But the reassurance did nothing to ease the tension in Jasper’s stomach.
“I have to admit,” Brox said slowly. “I’m a bit surprised you haven’t heard from him again.”
“As am I. But, perhaps his newest endeavor”—he spat the word—“is taking up too much of his time for him to worry about me.”
Brox nodded his agreement. “Whatever Mrs. Zhi has on him, it must be big for him to postpone seeing that you follow through on his demands.”
Yes, it most certainly had to be.
“I need you to listen to me, Jasper.” Brox leaned forward across his desk. “If nothing else, you must remember this. If you fight Leng in any way other than a legal battle, you will lose.”
Jasper raised a hand toward the door Wixcomb had departed out of. “But you just said there’s no chance the courts will accept that.”
“Not as of yet. We’re still building a case. Between now and when we do take Leng to court, remember, there is no way to kill, or even attack the man that won’t result in you ending your own life as well. Your only option is to convince the courts to side with you.”
Jasper ran a hand down his face. Brox was right. The courts, as impossible an endeavor as convincing them felt, were his only option. They were Mrs. Zhi and Ju’s only option.
Ju’s scared eyes from that morning filled his mind. Gads, but he had wanted to hold her and convince her all would be well. She was a fighter, strong and willing to work for what she wanted in life. She deserved a chance to do so without constantly worrying for her own life and her mother’s, waiting for some stranger to come after either of them with a gun.
The door swung open with a bang, drawing Jasper’s gaze to it.
Tressa stood in her usual leather mechanic’s jacket and breeches, a hand on her hip. “Thank the devil you’re here.”
Jasper couldn’t help but chuckle, even disheartened as he was. Of a truth, how else did one respond to that kind of a greeting? Tressa’s statement made it seem like she was glad to see him, while her tone made it sound as though she was furious he’d dared risk showing up. Jasper held his hands out. “I’m glad I am, too?”
Tressa crossed the room and held a small slip of paper out to Brox. “This just came.” Not waiting for him to read it she explained to them both. “Second-in-Command Samuel Rowley’s sister is staying in town for a few days before continuing on to America and, wouldn’t you know it, Elise’s baby arrived last week. Consequently, she isn’t in any condition to host.” Her voice grew louder as she kicked a chair away from the desk and plopped down into it. “Guess who gets to play happy-hostess now?”
Brox chuckled. “I’m sorry, my dear. I know how much you hate having guests.”
“Come now,” Jasper said. “It’s one young woman for only a few days. It can’t be as bad as all that.”
Tressa skewered him with a glare. “Oh, it won’t be. Because you’re going to stay for supper tonight, and every night she’s here, then you’re going to show her around town so I don’t have to.”
“Why me?” Jasper had plenty to do the next few days and none of it included showing the little sister of his sister’s associate around town.
“Because you’re perfect for the job. You’re already in a perpetual state of having half of London in love with you.”
Brox listed his head Jasper’s direction. “She does have a point.”
They were both going to throw this on him? “I say a few ‘sweetheart’s and ‘my dear’s and everyone thinks I’m a rake.”
Tressa raised an eyebrow. “Are you only just now figuring this out?”
“You’re a charmer with a camera,” Brox added. “What woman can resist that?”
Jasper held up a finger. Defending himself, to his family, no less, was not one of the things he’d foreseen himself needing to do today. “I am completely harmless.” Unless a true rake decided to impose himself on any woman within Jasper’s knowledge. Then he reserved the right to do all the harming he saw fit. “Moreover, you both know I’m a little busy right now. My answer is no.”
“Harmless, are you?” Tressa sat up straighter. “Tom has been missing classes again. I asked him about it this morning. Do you know what he said?”
Ah, lud. Jasper was fairly sure he knew where this was headed.
Tressa continued, “He said you told him it was acceptable to skip classes. That he should, and I quote, ‘be a boy and not spend so much time sitting in boring ol’ class’.”
Jasper groaned. “I didn’t say it exactly like that.”
“But you did encourage him to skip class,” she said. “Jasper, you can’t do things like that. Tom looks up to you. He idolizes you.”
“Well, next time I see him I’ll tell him to stop idolizing me.” Jasper knew he wasn’t a good example for a young boy to follow. He never pretended to be.
Brox’s voice come out as stern as the bow of a ship. “You’ll do no such thing. That boy has had a hard enough life as is. He doesn’t need your rejection as well.”
“Just think about him a bit more before you say anything next time,” Tressa muttered.
“I’m sorry,” Jasper said. “I’ll try to be more . . .” What? More stuffy and stodgy? “More thoughtful.” At least he could promise to be that without completely changing who he was whenever Tom was around.
“Good,” Tressa said. “You can make it up to me by helping me host Rowley’s sister.”
Jasper moaned and dropped his head back into his hands. They were no closer to ending things with Ambassador Leng and now it seemed Tressa was going to insist he deal with this as well. Moreover, all he truly wanted to do was see Ju and convince her that a life with him would be a gallant adventure. Now that he had made up his mind—albeit rather spontaneously—Jasper was ready to act. That’s how he made all his decisions, especially the big ones. When his gut said to do something, he did it. No questions. No hesitations.
“In any case,” Brox said. “I am quite sure you and”—he glanced down at the slip of paper Tressa had brought in—“Miss Amelia Rowley will find each other enjoyable company.”
Well, it would seem his busy schedule just got even more crowded. Between Leng, Mr. Zhi, Miss Rowley, and Ju he was going to be quite busy.
“Gads,” Tressa said. “I do hope she’s not one of those fickle, flirty things.”
Jasper chuckled, his mind returning to Ju and her smile. He’d never been in love before, but, now that he thought about it, he felt certain that was what he was.
In love. With Ju.
He had never considered how one went about pitching woo to a brilliant, talented woman such as Ju. Then again, hadn’t Tressa just said that he had half of London in love with him at any given time?
How hard could this be?
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Hard. As it turns out, wooing Ju was very hard.
Jasper rested an arm across his eyes, letting his head si
nk deeper into his pillow as Mr. Zhi, livid, shouted and stomped back and forth at the foot of Jasper’s bed. Apparently, Jasper would not be sleeping in past sunrise today.
The ghost seemed as though he might be ranting for a while so Jasper let his thoughts travel back to the one person who never left his mind.
After leaving Brox’s place a few nights previous, Jasper had spent hours lying awake in bed thinking over his new realization—that he loved Ju and wanted her in his life. Granted, they hadn’t known each other long, but loads of couples got engaged after only a few weeks acquaintance among the ton, especially during the season.
The next morning, Ju had come with her mother to his place, as they’d arranged. Both at the house and later during shooting practice, Jasper had done all he could. He flirted with Ju, gave her his most dazzling smile, complimented her.
None of it worked. She smiled back, teased him mercilessly, and seemed to enjoy his company, but nothing more.
What the blazes was he doing wrong?
“And you didn’t keep him long enough for me to speak with him?” Mr. Zhi, in all his blue-ghost glory, yelled at Jasper. The fact that he was dead seemed to do nothing to dampen his ability to make a room shake with his voice.
Jasper sighed and set aside his unanswered questions regarding Ju’s affections. “Well, perhaps I’ll send you a missive requesting your presence next time I need to interrogate a blackguard.” Jasper said, his tone full of sarcasm. “Tell me, just now does one send a letter to the next world?”
Mr. Zhi muttered something which sounded like “rash idiot” and “joking about those things he doesn’t understand”, but he mixed in enough curses even Tressa would have been impressed.
Jasper rubbed his eyes. “Like I told you. He isn’t going to be of any more help to us, except as a witness in court. We need him on our side and keeping him tied up for two days would hardly convince him to help us.”
Mr. Zhi’s scowl grew thunderous. “He tried to shoot my wife.”
“Because his family was being threatened.”
Mr. Zhi’s threats, mixed with more than one colorful curse, grew until Jasper couldn’t think for the noise.
“Why not go after him yourself?” Jasper asked, throwing off the covers and sitting up.
“I just might seek out this Wixcomb and—”
“Not him.” Jasper waved dismissively in Mr. Zhi’s direction, then stood and pulled on a shirt. “I meant Ambassador Leng. If you really want to protect your wife and Ju, why don’t you kill him? It’s not as though you need to fear being hanged.”
Mr. Zhi didn’t respond, but his brow dropped lower.
Jasper pulled on a pair of breeches, not bothering to tuck his shirt in. “I know that, ghost though you may be, you are far from helpless.” He’d heard plenty of stories of ghosts attacking the living. Some he’d heard from the victims themselves.
“It is not that simple,” Mr. Zhi ground out.
Lud, but the floor was cold this time of morning. Jasper sat back on the bed and pulled stockings on. “Why not?”
Mr. Zhi was silent for a moment. He paced the floor in front of Jasper’s bed, hands hidden in the wide sleeves of his jacket. “I fear your brother-in-law is correct. Wixcomb will not prove enough to force Leng to leave England.”
It would seem he wasn’t going to tell Jasper why he couldn’t, or wouldn’t, face Leng himself. Jasper let out a frustrated breath and leaned back against the headboard. “A man like that has more than one secret he doesn’t want to get out. With a little help from you, I’m sure I could sneak into his home, or perhaps his place of work.”
“No,” came the adamant reply.
“There has to be something we can find that—”
“No.” Louder this time. “I’ve seen enough of those places to know it is far too risky. You will not be able to protect anyone if you are dead.”
“Is that your excuse as to why you aren’t the one watching over your wife and daughter?” Jasper hadn’t intended to grow rude, but he was becoming anxious and every idea he’d proffered, Mr. Zhi had shot down without even hearing it all the way through.
Mr. Zhi’s entire form tensed. “You know nothing of which you speak.”
No, he probably didn’t. But what he did know was that jack-a-napes such as Leng didn’t back down until someone made them. “We have to do something.”
“I will decide when and what that is.” Mr. Zhi’s words were tight and clipped. “Until then, you will focus on protecting—” With a cry, Mr. Zhi crumpled.
Jasper leapt from the bed and hurried over. He reached to place a hand at Mr. Zhi’s elbow, but his hand passed right through the ghost.
“Mr. Zhi, what’s wrong?”
The man’s face was pinched, not in anger as it had been moments ago, but in pain. Slowly he rose up to one knee. “Liling and Ju.” He paused and drew in a deep breath. “They are drawing near.”
Jasper reached for the man again, then stopped. He couldn’t grab him or help him. What did one do for a ghost who was in pain? He hadn’t even known ghosts could feel pain.
“You asked, boy,” Mr. Zhi’s words grew more labored, “why don’t I protect my family? Why don’t I confront Leng myself?” He winced, his arm clutching his side tightly. “Look and behold for yourself.”
Jasper did look over him. There was nothing he could see that seemed to be causing the man’s agony. Yet—Jasper looked harder—there was something off about the man’s side. It seemed . . . out of focus, almost. Like the blurred impressions of paint smudged across a canvas.
Mr. Zhi lifted his head. Beads of what looked like sweat rolled down his forehead. “Ironic, isn’t it? One experiences physical pain in life and longs for peace in death. Yet, in death alone one learns how much pain the body had protected one from all along.”
“Can I help you? Is there anything I can do for you?” Jasper didn’t necessarily get along with Mr. Zhi, but that didn’t mean he was unaffected seeing the man in pain.
Mr. Zhi’s hand shot out and grabbed Jasper’s forearm. Much to Jasper’s surprise, his grip was tangible; he gave Jasper’s arm a vise-like squeeze. “Protect my wife and daughter.”
“I will.”
“Promise me.” He looked nigh on to passing out. But ghosts couldn’t pass out. Right?
“I promise.”
Mr. Zhi closed his eyes for a moment, then set his jaw tight and opened his eyes once more. “I am bound to the next world—more so than most. I am only allowed to walk on earth during the thirty days of Ghost Month. In two weeks’ time, I will not be able to protect my loved ones at all. I will not even be able to see if they need protection.” His teeth ground and he grunted against his pain. “We only have that long . . .”
“We’ll get him. We’ll see to it that Leng never bothers your wife or daughter again.”
Mr. Zhi nodded slowly. “We will speak again soon.” With that, he faded away, the pressure on Jasper’s arm the last thing to vanish.
***
“But your floor, it is dirty,” Mrs. Zhi countered. She and Ju had, indeed, shown up moments after Mr. Zhi had disappeared, both ready to cook breakfast and scrub the floor as they had every morning for the past several days.
He, Ju, and Mrs. Zhi had chatted easily enough all morning as Mrs. Zhi cooked. Jasper tried to help once, only to get his hand ruthlessly smacked with the back of a wooden spoon. Ju only laughed and gave him a look which made him think she’d made the same mistake before. After that, both he and Ju sat back and let Mrs. Zhi do the cooking.
But now, the easy friendliness was gone. Mrs. Zhi was folding her arms and tapping her foot against the floor. And Mr. Zhi had called him belligerent. Perhaps the old ghost had a knack for filling his life with stubborn people.
Jasper folded his arms as well. “We’re not wasting half the morning so you can scrub floors I don’t even care about. Let’s get you to Wei shu’s, and Ju out to the practice field, so we can do something that will make a difference.”
Mrs. Zhi lifted her chin and called over her shoulder. “Ju, speak some wisdom into this man.” Then she turned her back on Jasper and moved over toward a tub of soap water.
Ju, her lips pressed tight to keep from smiling, walked over toward Jasper. He didn’t know why she bothered to hide the smile on her lips, her eyes were doing enough smiling that she wasn’t hiding anything.
“I’ve been ordered to speak wisdom into you,” she said emphatically.
Gads but he wanted to see that smile every day for the rest of his life. The past few days had only further convinced him of this course of action.
“Good luck with that,” he said. “My sister and her husband have been trying to speak wisdom into me for years, since before they ever even knew each other.” He shook his head. “They’ve both labeled me helpless.”
She eased up a bit closer, close enough that Jasper could smell the subtle hint of rice and flowers that always accompanied her. Jasper’s arms dropped to his side and he only just stopped himself from wrapping them around her. A few days ago, he’d had the intense urge to hold her, but that was after a misguided vagrant had tried to shoot her mother. He’d wanted to hold her then to protect and reassure her.
Now, he just wanted to hold her close. Period.
“She really can be quite insistent,” Ju said.
Jasper took in a breath and reminded himself they were discussing Mrs. Zhi’s sudden preoccupation with his dirty floors. “So I can see. I’ve been wondering if that’s where you get it from.”
Her mouth dropped opened. “What an impolite thing to say to a lady.” She wasn’t actually offended. Her eyes gave her away.
He leaned down a bit, drawing closer to her. He couldn’t help himself. “Then perhaps you should punish me for being such a rake.”
The smile in her eyes faded, leaving behind a sincere uncertainty. “Are you a rake, Jasper?” she said in a low tone.
Gads—she truly seemed unsure. His stomach dropped. Is that what she thought of him? That he was an untrustworthy jack-a-napes?
“No, of course not.” He took hold of her hand in his. “I am told I’m far too much of a tease and not nearly serious enough—not by half—but I can promise you, no matter what others assume—”