“Show her in, please.” When the butler left, Nick turned to Jasper. “Did you know your sister was coming?”
“No.” Perhaps, if he left the drawing room immediately, he could slip out and be clear of the house by the time she entered.
“Jasper.” His sister’s perfectly articulated consonants cut through the room. “I have to say, I’m disappointed.”
Too late.
Nicholas jumped up at her entrance. “Lady Ruby.”
Jasper resigned himself to the situation, but remained seated. “I would expect no less, dear sister.”
The true heir—to anyone who paid attention—of the Albemarle legacy came into view in a perfectly tailored traveling gown of cream and apricot stripes. It was impeccable, just like her dark-sable coiffure. In spite of himself, Jasper admired that. Even on what must have been a hastily planned trip out of London, his sister never let her armor slip.
Ruby smiled at their host. “Nicholas. I’d say it’s a pleasure to see you, but under the circumstances I’m afraid I cannot.”
“Circumstances?” Nick asked.
Ruby turned a raised eyebrow in Jasper’s direction as she took the chair Nick offered. “Have you managed to leave your friend in the dark?”
He’d have liked to leave him in the dark a little while longer.
“He’s been traveling.” Jasper pinched the bridge of his nose to preempt the headache he knew would start building any moment. “I told you not to look for me, Ruby.”
“Fortunately, I don’t answer to you.” Ruby turned back to Nicholas. “Our grandfather passed. Jasper is the Duke of Albemarle now, but rather than face it, he has chosen to run here and pretend that nothing has changed.”
Nicholas froze in the middle of resuming his own seat. “Jas?”
“I didn’t want to talk about it.” Or think about it. He just wanted to find a nice quiet room—hell, even a boathouse—to disappear with Julia and forget about the world.
He just wanted time to deal with it before he had to accept it.
“Would you mind if I had a few moments alone with my brother?” Ruby smiled at Nicholas. It was not a comforting smile. Neither was the request. Lady Ruby DeVere never caused a scene. Politely asking Nicholas for a private moment was a premeditated maneuver designed to allow Ruby to speak freely. Free Ruby was a terrifying creature to be at odds with.
“I’ll give you a thousand pounds to stay, Nick.”
Nicholas stood up. “I do not need your money, and I rather suspect you deserve whatever she means to say to you, Jas.”
Traitor. Nicholas bid good day to Ruby and left Jasper alone with his twin.
“You walked out on the queen,” she whispered through clenched teeth as soon as the door closed. As if the words were too foul to be said at full volume. “You walked out on me.”
The second part was the only part Jasper cared about, but even if he might change the way he’d gone about it, he couldn’t take it back now. “The queen will survive. As will the dukedom.”
A muscle in Ruby’s jaw twitched. “How would you know? How would you have any idea what it takes to run an estate the size of ours, or what it can survive?”
“It’ll manage. It’s been around for centuries, and we both know you’ve been doing most of it for years anyway.”
“The estate runs under the careful stewardship of men who trained for decades to carry the weight of that responsibility!” Ruby leaped up, bristling with unrest as she paced the floor. No doubt she’d been stewing every minute that had passed since he rode away from her at Parliament. “You should have been learning from him as soon as we left the schoolroom, but he went easy on you—”
“He went easy on both of us.”
She pressed her fingers hard against her forehead and took a breath. “How many acres of farmland are going unplanted because the Duke of Albemarle hasn’t decided what to plant or which fields to leave fallow?”
Now she was just being ridiculous. “Surely there’s someone who handles—”
“Sixty thousand,” she announced, cutting him off. “Enough to send England into a famine when those crops aren’t harvested in the fall. That’s how important it is. That’s why a duke decides.”
A thread of worry—or maybe it was guilt—began tugging at him. “See, I knew you’ve been handling it.”
“It is supposed to be handled by you!”
And that was the reality. They didn’t need Jasper. They only wanted him because tradition dictated that the duke should preside over the decisions. He had no expertise to offer. He was not in any way qualified, and the idea of sitting at his grandfather’s desk, making the decisions his grandfather used to make, was too much. Jasper wasn’t ready to face it yet. He needed more time.
“No.”
“What?” The pause had thrown momentarily Ruby off her tirade.
“If it’s that important to England, do it without me. Whatever you decide is fine.”
She bent toward him, their twin faces inches apart as she punctuated every syllable. “This is not my responsibility. I am not the heir. I cannot inherit the dukedom. This is something you have to do yourself.”
“Then it won’t be done.”
It was a shame Ruby couldn’t inherit. She would have made an excellent Duke of Albemarle. While Jasper had devoted his life to fleeting pleasures that distracted him from memories he didn’t want to recall, Ruby had thrown herself wholeheartedly into the family legacy. She had the decades of training by his grandfather’s side, and she had the will to use it. But the dukedom didn’t just need a figurehead to sacrifice on the altar of duty—it needed a male figurehead.
“What do you want?” she asked abruptly. “What will it take to get you to do this?”
“Time.”
It was the one answer she didn’t want to hear, but it was the only honest one Jasper could give. In time, the pain of losing their grandfather—the greatest man Jasper had ever known—would fade a bit. He’d be able to sit still without wanting to smash everything in a room. He would be able to unpack the memories without the need to scream at God and the universe trying to tear its way free of his throat.
“Time is the one thing I can’t give you,” Ruby answered. “If I thought it would just be a week, or a month…”
But it wouldn’t be. Jasper had run from his parents’ deaths for years. He was a boy of six when the accident happened, and a man in his twenties before he could take a breath without the weight of what he’d lost pressing in on him. Ruby knew. She’d spent her whole life watching him run.
“I can’t be the duke Grandfather was.”
“It doesn’t matter. Just be the duke you can be.”
The Duke of Albemarle was a leader of the British Empire. One of the finest titles held by one of the finest families in the finest country in the world. Jasper would not sully generations of great men by doing the job badly. Better that he stay Viscount Bellamy and leave it vacant. He couldn’t disgrace the Dukes of Albemarle if he never took the title.
Ruby’s chin lifted and her shoulders squared. “You will accept your responsibility. Until you do, I will be here—dogging your steps day and night.”
It was the last thing Jasper needed. He was trying to forget, but Ruby would insist on reminding him every chance she got.
“You can’t stay,” he told her.
“You’re not in charge of that decision.”
And Nicholas would side with her, damn him.
“Then I’ll leave.” Jasper stood up, intending to do exactly that.
“I’ll follow,” Ruby promised.
He tried one last tactic. “Grandmother is grieving.”
“Grandmother told me to come. She told me not to return without you.” Ruby’s voice broke a little on the last bit.
What a sad pair they were. Jasper was content to be left alone, to pursue his life on his own terms. Ruby dedicated her life to being a perfect lady and a dutiful member of their family. If she were more like him, they w
ould all be lost.
“I can’t give you what you want, Ruby.”
“I think you can.”
There was nothing left to say. She would hold her ground and he would hold his. It was one of few things they shared besides their looks—stubbornness. Jasper turned to go, intending to change into riding clothes and find Julia for a much-needed diversion.
Ruby followed.
He left the drawing room and went up the stairs, and she was still on his heels. “Surely you don’t mean to literally follow me through this house.”
“It seems the surest way to make sure you don’t disappear again.”
The sympathy he’d felt faded and irritation took its place. “I’m going to my room to change. I think you can ease off a little.”
Ruby smirked. “It would hardly be the first bedroom window you’ve snuck out of.”
So be it. If she thought she could embarrass or annoy him into coming home with her, she was sadly mistaken.
He opened the door to his room—and stopped short.
Laid out across his bed, in stockings and a whisper-thin chemise, was Julia. Her hair was loose, spilling across his pillows, and the dressing gown she’d no doubt worn on her trek through the halls was draped across her feet. She was stunning.
She also had horrible timing.
Behind him, Ruby cleared her throat. Jasper lifted his arms, trying to block her view and afford Julia some measure of privacy, but it was too late. Julia’s face lost all color and she jumped to drag the dressing gown over her body.
Ruby’s tone was the coldest he’d ever heard from his sister. “I almost believed your sad story about needing time. Tell me, did you find someone to warm your bed after you ran away from inheriting the dukedom, or were you running to her the whole time?”
“Ruby—” Jasper turned, trying to explain.
“I bet you told her you’re the Duke of Albemarle. How else would you get a well-bred woman to play your whore?”
“Julia isn’t—”
“Jasper?” Julia’s shaky tone came from just over his shoulder.
Shit. He spun again. “I wasn’t keeping my title from you. I just…wasn’t ready to talk about it.”
Julia nodded. He couldn’t take his eyes off her, or the unnatural stillness she’d achieved.
“Isn’t what?” Ruby continued, oblivious to the fact that she was no longer Jasper’s primary concern. “Isn’t well-bred? I wouldn’t think Amelia would let you install some trollop in her house, but who knows with the kinds of company you keep.”
While he watched, Julia took a deep breath and stepped around him. “My name is Julia Bishop. I assume you’re Jasper’s sister, Lady Ruby?”
Ruby blinked. “I am.”
“It’s lovely to meet you. I’m sure you and your brother have a great deal to catch up on, so I’ll leave you to it.” Julia gave them both an overly wide smile and pushed past Ruby out into the hall.
Jasper moved to do the same. “Julia—”
“Let her go.” Ruby grabbed his arm. “Unless you want me following you and extending this despicable drama to the entire household.”
For Julia’s sake, he stayed, but his mind was racing. She’d forgiven him for last night, that much was clear. God, she looked delectable in that chemise, but he’d ruined it—just like he’d ruined every other overture Julia had made.
“I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised,” Ruby was saying. “Philandering is your chosen method of dealing with grief—or anything else for that matter.”
Jasper didn’t answer, his attention still on the place where Julia had disappeared around a corner. Her quiet, shaky ‘Jasper’ echoed in his ears. She’d needed something from him, some kind of assurance, and he hadn’t been able to give it to her. He couldn’t give any of them what they needed. He wasn’t enough.
“I can’t go down there.” Julia tossed yet another dress onto the floor. “I can’t.”
Amelia picked it up and handed it back to Nora. “Unless you can develop a legitimate malady in the next five minutes, you have to.”
“I have a permanent legitimate malady.”
“One that you haven’t insisted for your entire life doesn’t stop you from doing anything.”
Julia rejected another dress. It was futile to even look—she didn’t own anything appropriate for dinner with the sister of a Duke. Especially not one who had just witnessed her utter humiliation.
“I think you’ll like each other,” Amelia encouraged. “You were afraid to meet Jasper, and look how well that’s gone.”
Oh, God. “Lady Ruby and I have met.”
“You have? When?”
“Earlier this afternoon.”
Amelia beamed. “See, then. There’s nothing to be nervous about.”
“When I was sprawled across Jasper’s bed in my underclothes.” Julia squeezed her eyes shut, unwilling to witness her sister’s reaction.
The whoosh of skirts as Amelia sat down suddenly was unmistakable. As was the strain in her tone. “Oh, Jules. In front of a duchess’s granddaughter?”
Julia abandoned the dress hunt and sat next to Amelia on the bed, letting herself fall backward against the mattress. “Obviously, I didn’t expect her to be there.”
“When I suggested you keep doing what you’ve been doing—”
“Don’t. I feel ridiculous enough already. I don’t need a lecture.”
The expression on his face when he came through the door would have been less shocked if she’d slapped him. Up until that moment, Julia had imagined the worst thing that could happen would be for him to politely suggest she put some clothes on, and send her on her way. The rejection would have been devastating, but she’d prepared herself for the possibility.
Oh, how her imagination had failed her.
Not once had she considered that a member of his family would be with him. That she would meet his sister while frantically trying to cover herself. Not to mention the other thing.
“He’s a duke, Mia.”
“Nick told me.” Amelia laid back and rolled onto her side. “Does that change things for you?”
No. Yes. Julia resisted the urge to roll and face Amelia. If she did that, her sister would know. The distance between Julia and Jasper’s stations was not small, but when he’d been just a Viscount, she could pretend that it wasn’t insurmountable. She was an earl’s daughter, after all, if an unpopular one. It was not so far of a leap.
If she admitted that, she would have to admit that she’d thought about the leap. That she’d allowed herself to consider the possibility of something more than temporary. She hadn’t considered it for long, or with any sort of seriousness, but she had considered it—and now he was a duke. The distance between them was impossibly vast.
“I’d make a terrible duchess,” Julia answered.
“I think you’d make an incredible duchess,” Amelia retorted. “You’re already vain and spoiled. Imagine what you’d do with some power.”
“Invade the continent, probably.”
“I’ve always wanted to own France.” Amelia laid her hand on Julia’s shoulder, but Julia shrugged it off.
It would take more than banter to undo the events of the day.
“What am I going to do, Mia?”
Amelia pushed herself up off the bed. “For starters, you’re going to get dressed. Once you look suitably fabulous, you’re going to do the only thing you can do—brazen through it and be amazing.”
Easier said than done.
Amelia held up a mass of midnight satin. “When were you expecting to need this?”
“You never know.”
Mia considered it. “It’s pretty. You could—”
Julia sat up, taking the dress from her and handed it to Nora. “I can manage on my own. Why don’t you go get dressed?”
Amelia looked down. “I am dressed.”
Oh, good heavens. “Do you even have a lady’s maid? Nora, go with Mia. Find her something suitable, and don’t listen to any
of her protests. She has never paid any attention to fashion.”
Once they were gone, Julia assessed her wardrobe with a critical eye. Nothing would erase the impression she’d already made, so the question was—did she want to apologize for it or flaunt it? She pulled out a dress in deep green. As ball gowns went, it bordered on the simple, and it had a somber feel. It was the sort of demure choice she ought to make.
Julia set it aside, returning to the black. It was an impractical dress; too immodest to be appropriate for mourning, too black to be appropriate for anything else. She’d commissioned it in a flight of fancy, imagining herself entering a ball to whispers behind fans, with black silk and white diamonds flashing in a feminine mimicry of the men’s eveningwear.
It was the sort of dress a mistress would order.
She was still holding it when Nora returned with a quiet close of the door. “All sorted, my lady. She’s got a nice gold chiffon that’s never seen the light of day. It’s perfect.”
“I’ve decided on the midnight silk. And diamonds. Lots of diamonds. We can borrow some from Mia if we didn’t bring enough.”
Nora opened her mouth, but closed it again without saying something. She stayed silent the entire time she helped Julia dress and pin her hair. By the time Julia was adding the diamond drops to her ears and Nora was securing the clasp on the five-row necklace, Julia couldn’t take it anymore.
“Whatever you want to say, just say it.”
“I don’t need to,” Nora answered. “You already know.”
Julia turned to face her instead of continuing their conversation via the mirror. “This is the path I’ve chosen, Nora.”
The maid’s hands stilled against her shoulders. “Because you want it, or because you think it’s the only path open to you?”
It was Julia’s turn to be robbed of words. It was an unkind question when it was the only path open to her, and Julia refused to be ashamed of her willingness to take it. “Thank you, Nora. That will be all for tonight.”
She wasted a bit more time checking and rechecking her hair in the mirror to make sure she would arrive just before dinner was announced and save herself from as much of the necessary cocktail conversation as possible. When the chimes of the clock rang out, it was time to make her entrance.
A Scandal by Any Other Name Page 10
