by Dahlia Rose
“Just a few thousand is all she needs, and she wanted to check on how the wife search was going,” Uncle Brewster answered.
“It’s none of her business. I am doing it because it’s required of my title as per my father’s will, not to garner her money. Somehow she got that warped, but then it is my mother,” Jasper pointed out. “And I’m not sending her or the bitch cousins any money.”
“Those are my daughters, Jas,” Uncle Brewster said coldly, showing a small spurt of anger on behalf of his daughters.
“And if you loved them so much, you wouldn’t have let my mother drive your wife away and turn them into what they are now. Grow a backbone, man, and stand up for yourself to all of them!”
“You are on the outside looking in, your mother and I have been through a lot...” Uncle Brewster said.
Jasper leaned forward. “No, she is jealous of anything that isn’t about her, that’s why she ruined you and Lillian and so much so the woman ran and left her daughters. She hated the life you showed your wife, and no matter how much my dad loved her it was never enough. Now you are her lackey, jumping to do her bidding and so very much alone that I can see it weighing on your shoulders.” He sighed and added sorrowfully, “I hope you break free of her, Uncle. I love you that much I want to see you away of this mess. I want you to find Lillian, live in a seaside cottage, and be happy for the rest of your life in your gardens with a woman who truly loves you.”
“It sounds like a good dream, but I doubt it will happen,” Uncle Brewster replied.
Jasper looked at his watch and stood up. “It will if you fight for what you want. You’ve got to stop waffling between wanting to be free and letting me go my own way to falling under Cornelia’s whims. In any case, I’ve got plans that I can’t be late for. I’ll check in on you later and then I have dinner with a friend.”
“Your schedule is pretty booked, it seems, while I’m here in the suite alone,” his uncle joked.
“Go out, have fun, do something for you,” Jasper said. “Explore, uncle. You don’t have to sit in the hotel for five days.”
Uncle Brewster looked at him. “In all honesty, I’m rather enjoying the peace and quiet. I have a good book and room service at my beck and call.”
“Well then, I’ll see you later.” Jasper gave his uncle a quick pat on the shoulder as he left.
Sometimes all he wanted to do was to hug the man and then help him escape from the will of his daughters and Jasper’s mother. But he couldn’t save the older man, Uncle Brewster had to break that manipulative cycle all on his own. In any case, he wasn’t going to be deterred. Zeva was perfect, strong, sexy, and independent. His mother would have one hell of a time trying to run roughshod over her, and he had no doubt that Zeva could give as good as she got. All he could think about while he lay in bed that night was how it felt to kiss her, and he wanted more in the worst way. He stepped out into the sunshine and hailed a cab to take him back to the pub. In less than twenty minutes Jasper was promising Ralph that he would bring his wife back in the same condition she left in.
Joan tucked her hand into the crook of his when he offered her his arm. “I do miss the old gentlemanly ways of Europe.”
“I’ll be as chivalrous as you need.” Jasper took her hand and kissed it soundly, loving when the old woman laughed.
“Now, what do you want to know about your grandmother?” Joan asked as they walked.
“Everything,” Jasper said automatically. “You said I craft like my great uncle. I didn’t even know I had one. I feel like my mother has hidden a lot of my family history from me.”
“She’s not proud of where she came from, that’s a certainty,” Joan said. “Your gran married Lord Edwards and became lady of the manor house that you now own. That was where your mother and uncle were born. Your gran wrote me when she had the twins, and as the years went by she wrote of the affection of your uncle and her worry about Cornelia. She said it was like something was missing from her—empathy—her happiness only seemed to come from material things.”
“She’s that way now,” Jasper murmured.
“She used your uncle as a gopher, and when she couldn’t have her way he was her favorite person to take out her rage.” Joan shook her head. “Your mother almost sent her away to a convent, but your grandfather married her off to Duke McTavish and then you were born. She’d hoped it would help your mother to become a mum, but she was cold to you as ever, only showing affection when her husband was around.”
“I was the apple of her eye when she hosted parties or her league of friends were around,” Jasper explained. “Dad figured her out eventually and started taking me with him on his trips abroad and sending me away to school. If she didn’t have her way she made him miserable. When he died I became duke, and she said I was to take care of her now. By that time we well and truly hated each other, and I told her I would never be that person who gave in to her callous needs.”
“And well you shouldn’t,” Joan said as they entered the park. “I’m a bit parched, how about you get us two iced drinks from the cart over there and we can sit on this bench under the shade.”
“Certainly, what would you like?” Jasper asked graciously.
“An iced coffee please. Don’t tell Ralph, he says it makes me hyper,” Joan laughed.
“Your secret will go with me to the grave,” Jasper promised. “I’ll be right back with your drink.”
He walked the short distance to the cart that sold drinks, sandwiches, hot dogs, and pretzels. He got them both two vanilla iced coffees and two warm cinnamon pretzels. Jasper came back to where Joan was sitting and handed her a drink and the pretzel, much to her delight. She nibbled at the large warm treat and drank deeply from the cup before speaking again.
“So your mum is still...”
“A bitch, yes,” Jasper answered. “My father’s will states I should be married to keep the title. She saw it as ‘get married to a wealthy woman’ so she could have more money. We rarely speak, so she put Uncle Brewster up to going with me so he could keep an eye on whom I may choose.”
“And you have chosen Zeva,” Joan said knowingly. “Does she know yet?”
“There is no hiding anything from you, is there? I plan to tell her tonight,” Jasper admitted with a laugh. “Any ideas on how I should broach the subject?”
Joan took a sip of her drink and said bluntly, “Take the bull by the horns and tell her. One of two things will happen: she will punch you in the face and kick you out or hear what you have to say. But your mother will try to make her life hell.”
He nodded. “I know, and I think Zeva would give as good as she gets. It not just about the title, I’ve only known her for two days and I cannot stop thinking about her.”
“There is no time limit on love or attraction,” Joan said. “I was dancing with another boy when I met Ralph at a social in Kildare. I went for a glass of punch and he told me he was going to marry me and to come away for a walk with him. A week later we were in love and saving money for our marriage. When I left the service of your grandmother we did just that. Our heart knows way before our mind does.”
“I think it does as well,’” Jasper said. “I want what you and Ralph have. I have never seen it in my life but I know I want the kind of love that will last a lifetime.”
“If that’s what you want, then you grab it with both hands and never let go,” Joan said and then warned him. “Your mum will make Zeva’s life a living hell if you let her, and she will be vicious, cruel, and I have no doubt dangerous. Don’t let her ruin any life you are trying to have with her.”
Jasper met her gaze and vowed, “I won’t. I’ll stand for her, I swear it.”
“I have no doubt,” Joan replied and put her drink down to dig into her purse. “I think you walked into our pub for a reason. I have no doubt your Gran is looking out for you from above. Here is a letter from her, actually there are two letters in one. These are for the time you may need ammunition to shut her up. I would sugge
st hiding them away until you get home. Don’t let your uncle see them, it affects him too. Keep them safe, Jasper.”
“Are you sure you want me to have these?” Jasper said, doubtfully looking at the envelope that was brown with age.
“Yes,” Joan said firmly. “These I feel were meant for you and to finally bring you peace from your mother when the time comes.”
Jasper took the package. The paper was well preserved and felt firm in his hands, speaking to the old, thick paper it was made with. Joan also added another layer of protection by putting them in a baggie to protect from water or the elements.
“Thank you,” Jasper said almost reverently. “I am so very glad I met you. You and Ralph must come visit the manor. Make it a family trip, bring everyone, your kids and grandchildren, there is plenty of room.”
“We may take you up on that, because we are trying to take an extended trip to Ireland sometime soon,” Joan said with a smile.
They talked about how Ireland and England had changed from when she was there to now, and Jasper enjoyed whiling away the hours with the older woman. It reminded him of how his gran used to be. A great big smile, loving personality, and blunt as a hammer. In a few hours he was walking her home and returned her to Ralph who looked at his wife with pure love on his weathered face. Yes, I definitely want that, Jasper thought as he hailed a cab to take him back to the hotel. When he got there, he found his uncle snookered drunk, almost passed out. Jasper sighed, defeated, and knew this was another thing he wanted to fix with all his heart but couldn’t. It was one of the ways Uncle Brewster escaped the reality of his life.
“I love you my boy, always have. Only connection in this world that keeps me going,” Uncle Brewster said as Jasper helped him to the second bedroom of the hotel suite.
“I know, Uncle, I love you too,” Jasper answered and got him settled.
He ordered room service for lunch and another meal to be sent up, along with Tylenol and two bottles of water before he left for the night. He’d make sure there was a meal in the little kitchen area of the suite that his uncle could warm up when he finally woke, and the water was for him to hydrate. The Tylenol would be for the headache he’d have to deal with after his afternoon foray into the bottle.
Jasper looked at the letters before he hid them in in his locked case. For the longest time his gran was the only connection he had after his father died, and when his mother pushed her away from the home and Gran passed he’d felt lost. Joan gave him back part of his foundation with those letters, and maybe it would be a way to not only free himself from his mother but to save his uncle as well.
Chapter Three
Zeva looked around her neat apartment and wondered if she should vacuum the rug on the hardwood floor where her coffee table sat. She decided against it and checked the potatoes roasting in the oven. The steaks she had in the broiler smelled delicious. When she left work at six-thirty to come home and cook a meal for him, she caught fresh hell from her chauvinistic commander.
“Sir, I’ve done the last of your paperwork and I’m heading home,” she said when she knocked and poked her head into his office on Capitol Hill.
“That includes the packet for the meeting with the Secretary of Defense?” Commander Brighton asked.
“Yes sir,” she said politely and wanted to actually scream because when had she ever not done her job concisely.
He looked up and sighed. “Why don’t you ever wear your hair down from that severe bun? You are not a school teacher from the sixties, Sergeant Troy, you can look feminine.”
“That is not part of my job requirement, sir, and per military guidelines my hair meets specification to be neat and off my shoulders.” Zeva’s voice was polite but cold.
“Well, you work for me, and I say you can wear your hair down, let it frame your face and look like a woman,” he replied. “I still have the image of you at the gala in my head, you were so very delicious.”
‘That is inappropriate, sir, may I leave?” Zeva had to remind herself that she was almost done working with this pig and not to be court marshaled for kicking his junk into his throat.
“What if I wanted you to stay late and work closely with me at this desk,” he teased and licked his lips.
Zeva wanted to gag. “I would say my boyfriend would take issue with that and possibly make a diplomatic case of it. He’s the Duke of Northumberland.” She watched gleefully as her commander’s face turned red.
“Since when—you never mentioned being in a relationship with some duke before,” he blustered.
Zeva’s resting bitch face was on point because her expression never changed. “We are not girlfriends at lunch gossiping, sir. I would never assume the commander would want to know about my personal relationships outside the office. Again sir, I have done all the requested work for the day, may I leave?”
“Fine, go home to the pansy-ass fancy pants man,” Commander Brighton said.
Zeva saluted smartly. “Thank you, sir. Good evening, sir.”
When she closed the door a grin split her face and she had to keep the dance out of her step as she walked away from the commander’s office to her small work area that she called the closet.
Jasper worked in her favor today, and maybe for the rest of the time she was there Commander Brighton would keep his sexual innuendos down to a minimum. For that alone, Zeva figured she owed Jasper a delicious meal. Along with the kiss that seared her down to her toes, she’d even rustle up some dessert. He rang the buzzer to her apartment promptly at eight. Zeva had to admit she loved a man who was on time as she crossed the room to open the door. Jasper stood there looking elegant as ever in casual jeans, a polo shirt, and black leather jacket.
“Look at you, someone may think you’re a native dressed like that,” Zeva teased and stepped aside. “Come on in, probably not as fancy as your manor house but welcome to my home.”
“It’s very inviting, especially with the person who lives here being in my thoughts all day,” Jasper said, and his baritone voice was like a caress along her skin. She closed the door and he pulled her into his arms. “How about a kiss of welcome?”
“Sure, why not,” Zeva murmured.
She gave in to the need because she was thinking about kissing him too. Zeva sighed in delight because nothing felt more perfect than when his lips touched hers. The kiss wasn’t too long, but it was enough to make her warm and aching in all the right places. Jasper pulled away almost reluctantly and looked down at her as if mapping her face for his memory.
“I hate that I have to leave in a few days,” he said huskily. “Getting to know you has been the best thing to happen to me in a very long time.”
“You could always stay longer,” Zeva hinted.
Jasper shook his head. “Unfortunately no, I have work and my business. I want to talk to you about something.”
“We can talk over dinner. I would like to hear what Joan told you about your family if you’d like to share,” Zeva said and took his hand to lead him into her eat-in kitchen.
“I would, but I’d rather talk before dinner if we could,” Jasper said. “You may decide to kick me out before feeding me.”
“That doesn’t sound good,” Zeva murmured and her stomach lurched. “Let me just turn on the warmer on the stove so the steaks don’t dry out. I’ll grab us some beers, in case I need to hit you over the head with the bottle after our conversation.”
Jasper smiled. “It won’t come to that, I hope.”
“If you say you’re betrothed to someone and you want me as a side piece it just might,” Zeva warned.
“A side piece?” he questioned.
“A mistress,” she elaborated. “I’ll be right back.”
Zeva moved quickly to make sure dinner wasn’t ruined and grabbed the cold drinks from the fridge. On impulse, she reached into the freezer, took out her bottle of gin, and poured a shot in one of her glasses. She swigged it down to help calm the nerves that were now aflutter at his wanting to talk. Nothin
g good came from a statement like that, and it would be her luck to be attracted to a guy that wasn’t available or a liar. Her defenses went up, because it seemed no matter where they were from men were all the same. Zeva uncapped the beers and went back to the living room to hear the down and dirty of what Jasper had to say. He was still standing by her burgundy sofa when she returned.
She placed his drink on the coffee table and sat before saying two simple words. “Sit, talk.”
“You seem perturbed,” Jasper said as he sat down.
“I’m not. Just waiting to hear what skeletons you are dragging out of your closet,” she replied.
Jasper took a deep breath and said, “Marry me.”
She was taking a swig of her beer and almost choked. Zeva fanned her face. “Excuse me, what?”
“Be my wife,” Jasper repeated with a smile. “You weren’t expecting that, were you?”
“Not at all,” Zeva admitted. “Jasper, we’ve known each other for three days.”
“Let me explain. Part of my father’s will to retain my title was to marry, and the time has come for me to do so,” he began. “My mother is a witch from hell who thinks I’m to marry to help bring money into the family for her and my cousins to spend. I refuse to be a part of that, and I will marry whom I chose. You intrigued me from the first time I caught sight of you moving through the crowd, and then you took me on an adventure. I want to marry you.”
“Ummm.” Zeva honestly didn’t know what to say so she focused on part of what he said. “Your cousins and your mom?”
“Uncle Brewster’s daughters. My mom efficiently ran off her twin brother’s wife and then took the twins under her wing. They are twenty-eight year old versions of the wicked queen herself. She molded them in her image, to replace the son who wouldn’t fall in line I suppose,” Jasper explained. “Uncle Brewster is a kind man, but rather weak, so now he is basically pushed and pulled around by those three and no matter what I do to help he can’t seem to break free of it. Hence his propensity to favor the drink to compensate.”
