Years before he had married a duke’s daughter and found a relative amount of contentment. But he later experienced pain he could not have imagined. He’d experienced guilt for not loving Estelle the way he’d wanted to.
He was determined to do things differently the second time around.
And so, on this fine morning, while he sat patiently allowing his valet to shave him, he began to form a plan.
He would fulfill his obligations in Parliament, make the requisite social appearances necessary to keep his mother happy. And he would marry Tilde. If she would have him.
Of course, she would have him.
Wouldn’t she?
He’d do damned near everything he could to ensure she would.
He loved her and was relatively certain she felt the same.
His heart jumped at the thought. God, he hoped she would.
Having completed his morning ablutions, Jasper was ready to take on the world.
As per his routine, he would visit the nursery before going to the Palace. He’d see the children, his beloved daughters.
And as per his routine, he would also see her.
Only today he would not be forced to pretend she was only the governess to his daughters. Today he could allow himself to drink her in. He would reassure her, steal a kiss if given the opportunity. Whistling a jaunty tune, he made his way purposefully along the corridor toward the staircase.
She’d likely be blushing from head to toe when he saw her…
“You seem unusually pleased with yourself this morning.”
At the stair landing, his mother stood unmoving, as though she’d been watching for him.
“Good morning, Mother.” He nodded and made to pass around her.
But she stepped in the same direction, effectively blocking his way.
“I’ve been waiting for you, Willoughby. Can you spare me a moment before leaving for the Palace this morning?”
With a glance up the stairs, in the direction of the nursery, Jasper sighed. “What is it?”
She too, glanced along the corridor. “I’d rather speak with you in private. May we go to your study?”
“Can it not wait until tonight?” He was already close to being late.
“It really cannot.” He noticed that she’d set her jaw, an indication that she would not give in easily.
Feeling resigned, he sighed. He would make every attempt to extricate himself from proceedings early on today. Perhaps the four of them could share another picnic if he came home soon enough. With Peaches. Mustn’t forget Peaches.
“Very well.” He conceded.
Frustrated at the delay, Jasper lead her into his study and impatiently took the seat behind his desk. She seemed in no hurry as she examined the rings on her hand for a moment before lowering herself into the wingback chair facing him. But then she only stared out the window, appearing unusually uncertain all of a sudden.
“What did you wish to speak with me about?”
“Your future, Jasper, and by definition, the future of the earldom.” A determined glint entered her eyes. “It’s time we make arrangement to send Miss Fortune and the girls back to Warwick Place. She has them well in hand, and you really ought to focus on making a match with Lady Elaine.”
“For Christ’s sake, Mother, Lady Elaine is naught more than a child. And besides–”
“If you prefer another lady, there is always Pembroke’s gel. A bit long in the tooth but the Earl has posted an enormous dowry for her and that title is as distinguished as any. And of course, Lady Kathleen, Lemming’s widow, is available.”
“Mother, I’m not interested in any of them. And I most definitely have no wish to send my daughters away from me right now. With or without Tilde—Miss Fortune.” He corrected himself.
His mother sat for a moment with pinched lips. “She is not the one for you.”
Jasper drew himself up stiffly. Surely, she could not know…
“I believe that you think she is the one, with her pretty smiles and fine eyes. But you would quickly grow tired of her. Let us send her and the twins to Warwick Place tomorrow so that you can focus on a more equitable match here in town.”
He would not dissemble. In this regard, he’d already decided to make his intentions known anyhow. He would have preferred to speak with Tilde first, but his mother needed to be set to rights.
“Miss Matilda Fortune and my daughters are to remain here with me. I have every intention of making Miss Fortune my wife.”
At this declaration his mother burst from her chair. “That’s preposterous, Willoughby! She’s below us in every way. A governess? You obviously are not thinking straight. And if you were thinking with anything other than your nether regions, you’d have taken the time to investigate into her family. Her mother was a dancer at one time, Willoughby! A dancer! I wouldn’t allow you to associate with them eleven years ago and I absolutely forbid you to have anything to do with her now. You are Willoughby and you shall marry accordingly.”
His back ramrod straight, Jasper blinked at what he was hearing.
“You interfered before?” How had she even known?
“Did you think I’d allow you to throw this family’s succession down the river by marrying a woman of such low birth? Because I know you. You’ve always been far too tender hearted for your own good. Even with Estelle, you would have allowed her to cease trying to provide you with an heir. Best for all of us that she’s gone. She was weak. Despite all my urgings, she failed miserably at carrying out her duty.”
The blood in his veins turned to ice. “Despite your urgings?” A sick feeling followed the icy cold. Was his mother’s interference to blame for Estelle’s fixation on a son and her inability to love and accept their daughters?
“I merely emphasized that upon marrying you, she alone was responsible for providing you an heir. This was not anything new to her. Who was to know she’d weaken and die at such an early age?”
His mother’s explanation was eclipsed by the warning Tilde had perceptively given him yesterday: You do not see your mother. You must open your eyes, and your ears, and understand with your heart, who your mother is.
How had he been so blind?
Jasper had never in his life hit a woman, but in this moment, he was close to striking his own mother.
He should have suspected her machinations all along. He’d wondered at times. But he’d persisted in the belief that his mother was a decent human being.
Step back and watch her… And what she is doing to your most precious treasures.
Damn his eyes. Was he to blame for Estelle’s decline? And he’d been irritated by her obsession to beget him sons. He’d practically hated her for her refusal to embrace their daughters. And all along his mother had been dripping her poison…
He needed away from the woman he’d spent far too much of his life attempting to please.
“Stay away from my daughters and stay away from me. The dower house at Warwick is yours and I expect you to make use of it immediately. If that is unacceptable, I’m sure we can make one of the northern estates available to you.” He scribbled a bank draft out. “This will cover your travel expenses and much more.” He signed it with an angry slash.
Without another word, he pivoted on his heel and stormed out of the study. Roaring filled his ears as he reached the street and anger clouded his vision. Ignoring the manservant holding his mount, Jasper heedlessly marched along the pavement, not caring where he was going or when he would get there.
Damn Parliament.
Damn his mother.
And most of all, damn himself.
* * *
She and Jasper had made love last night. He’d touched her everywhere and then joined his body with hers. It would likely be the only time she’d ever experience the act.
The thought nearly caused her to burst into tears.
Jasper.
He’d filled places inside that she’d never known to be empty. The feeling of being needed to such an
extent by another person in this world, if only for a short while, was an overwhelmingly heady one.
“Will you read us a story before nap?” Tilde snapped herself back to the present. The children had been playing games with Peaches while Tilde stared at her notebook, not seeing a single word. Luckily, she had prepared her lesson plans for the morning far in advance, or she wasn’t certain she could have imparted any substantial instruction whatsoever.
“It’s Thea’s favorite.” Eloise explained, holding the book out with a cajoling expression dancing on her features.
“But of course.” Smoothing her dress, Tilde rose and crossed the room. “Come now, Althea.” Peaches jumped up and joined both girls, who had scrambled obediently onto Althea’s bed. “All three of you.”
Tilde made herself comfortable on the same chair she’d sat in last night… Before he’d carried her into her own chamber. He’d carried her!
“Miss Fortune.” Eloise’s voice jolted her again, for the umpteenth time that day. “You can turn the page now.”
Tilde shook her head, as though she could shake every unnerving emotion out of it. If only so that she could manage to finish reading a simple children’s story. “I’m sorry, sweetheart.” She forced her mouth to read the words and did not look up again until she finished the last page.
Her actions last night had been unforgivable. They had jeopardized the security she’d begun to provide for these two innocent children.
What if he hated her now? What if he sent her away?
And then her heart raced at a most alarming thought. What if he’d gotten her with child?
At eight and twenty, Tilde did not labor under any misapprehensions as to the possible ramifications of what they’d done. She had approximately a fortnight to wait before she would begin to have an inkling if she was to be spared such a trial.
And then her gaze settled on the sleeping girls; Eloise curled behind her sister, Althea’s arm hugging Peaches. Would it be so very horrible? Society certainly would label it as such.
Jasper was an earl.
An earl for Heaven’s sake!
Earls did not offer for their children’s governess, especially one who had chosen to act indiscriminately with them.
Ah, but it had not been indiscriminate. The true tragedy in all of this was that she’d done the unthinkable and fallen in love with him. If given the opportunity to express her love and to experience his affection again, she could not say no.
She would always have the memory of that night. She ought to regret it but what would that do? Assuage her guilt? Provide some personal form of punishment?
Foolishness.
She rose from her chair and tiptoed to the door leading to her own chamber. Recalling Lady Althea’s nightmare of just last night, she left the door ajar so she would hear right away if either of the girls called out to her.
She’d made up her own bedding that morning after scrubbing at the soiled sheet with cold water. Now she pulled back the counterpane and breathed a sigh of relief that the stain hadn’t set.
After making love to her Jasper had lain beside her until they both caught their breath. Then he had arisen and returned with a wet cloth. She hadn’t expected that he would apply it between her legs himself. And, although embarrassed at the intimacy of his gesture, her heart had swelled even more.
He’d told her she would be sore today.
She drew the counterpane back up and focused on the unusual twinges she experienced now. The pain was ironic, the anticipation of relief bringing her only sorrow. She wanted to remember every moment for as long as possible. The pain served that purpose intimately.
She’d given a part of herself away that she could never get back––to a man who could offer her nothing in return. Not anything she could take, anyhow.
He was her employer. And now he’d been her lover.
After washing the stickiness from between her legs, he’d tossed the washcloth onto the floor and then held her. At the thought, she gasped and searched around the bed until her gaze landed on the discarded evidence of her impetuous actions. She scooped it up into her fist. What if the maid had entered and discovered it? Oh, but she could not rely on luck like this in the future.
He’d whispered tender words of appreciation and apology but not mentioned love.
She had not expected him to.
“Miss Fortune?”
Tilde spun around. She’d not heard any knocking at the door. Most definitely she had not expected to find Lady Willoughby standing just inside the threshold of her chamber.
Chapter 14
My Son…
“I did not hear you knock.” Tilde lifted her chin. Something in the woman’s eyes made gooseflesh appear on her arms. In a horrified moment, Tilde quickly stuffed her hands, holding the soiled cloth, behind her back. “The girls are sleeping. Is there something I can do for you, my lady?”
Lady Willoughby’s eyes narrowed. “I’m afraid that you and I must have a little… chat.” The woman gestured for Tilde to take the only seat in the room.
Preferring to stand, Tilde declined.
“Very well, then.” Lady Willoughby began. She sighed, as though already fatigued by whatever task she’d taken on for herself… “This is not the first time, and I fear it won’t be the last.”
“My son sometimes makes very poor decisions. And on occasion, they involve various members of our female staff, more specifically, our younger female staff. And inevitably, whenever he makes such a mistake, he comes to me. As his mother, I, of course, take care of these little problems for him. A mother does what she must. I’m sure you understand.”
“Mistakes?” Tilde’s mind required a moment to process what Lady Willoughby was saying.
The woman lowered her chin and raised her brows. “Ah, yes. Of which you hold the evidence in your hand behind you.”
Tilde could do nothing to prevent the heat from travelling up her neck and into her cheeks. How did she know? She must have been standing in the door when Tilde scooped the cloth off the floor.
“Yes, mistakes, my dear. My son came to me first thing this morning. You are excused from your post—that goes without saying. If you choose to cause any difficulties, I’ll be forced to report your unprofessional proclivities to the agency. Such a stain upon your references might make it extremely difficult to secure a respectable position in the future, would you not agree?”
Tilde struggled to comprehend exactly what the woman was saying. Not that Tilde was obtuse, by any means, but because the notion that Jasper had left her bed and then met with his mother…
But how else would Lady Willoughby have known?
The older woman held out a piece of paper. “He asked that I give this to you.”
Tilde recognized his handwriting immediately. She’d found his barely legible scrawl almost amusing when she’d read over their contract.
The bearer of this draft is entitled to 3000L in exchange for her immediate withdrawal from Willoughby House. Signed, Jasper Charles Talbot.
“Willoughby expects you to take your leave before he returns this evening.”
Tilde glanced toward the open door to the nursery. She thought she’d seen movement out of the corner of her eyes. Nothing was there.
“But what of the girls?” She could not help but ask the most obvious question.
Or was it? Lady Willoughby had shown time and time again that she cared little, or nothing for them at all.
Was this really happening? Jasper would not do this! He would not!
And then she remembered. His promises to call on her the morning after they first met. What had he told her was his reason for failing to come? That he’d been a fool?
Was this his reason now?
She stared down at his scrawled signature again, as though she’d imagined it the first time.
“Crabtree can stay with them until a replacement is found.”
Tilde blinked and shook her head, as though she could somehow make sense of all
of this by doing so. “But he…”
“Don’t embarrass yourself, Miss Fortune, by begging and pleading your case. A woman your age ought to have known the ramifications of such unbecoming behavior. Besides, I’ve no wish to retain a governess with such loose morals for my granddaughters. There is no excuse for it.”
Tilde stood stunned and then glanced around the room.
“I’ll have a driver awaiting you downstairs within the hour. That ought to give you plenty of time to gather your belongings.”
“I need to say goodbye to the girls.” She could not leave Althea and Eloise without saying a word. She’d need to devise some sort of reason for abandoning them. She’d just promised them she wasn’t going anywhere.
Lady Willoughby sniffed. “I suppose. But be quick about it.”
And then she was gone, leaving Tilde holding a casually written slip of paper in her hand that changed everything she’d believed about Jasper Talbot.
Not magical.
Not wonderful. Not the most caring of men. Nor a father who put his daughters above all else.
She stuffed the paper into her apron and gulped down a sob. As badly as she’d have liked to rip the paper into several small pieces and throw them out the window, she had three younger sisters who depended a great deal on her. She’d decide what to do with it later.
He wanted her gone.
He’d done this before.
For now, what little time she had left, she would spend with the girls.
Having refused the driver, so graciously provided by the Countess, Tilde stepped off the front step of the townhouse and moved aimlessly along the pavement. She carried only the valise she’d brought with her.
She had never allowed her heart to become so involved with any of her charges in the past. She vowed never to do so in the future. She ought to be leaving a trail of blood in her wake, she felt so very wounded and empty.
Making a fist of her right hand, Tilde ignored the sensation of loss. Normally Peaches would be tugging at her leading string, running in circles around Tilde’s feet, or tying her up so that she could hardly move.
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