Adeline

by Christina McKnight

  “We are grateful to have you, Lord Ailesbury,” Theo all but crowed, her smile so wide it was a wonder her face did not crack under the strain. “I will retrieve the tailor’s card for you at once.”

  Theo glanced about the room as if having forgotten they were in the study, before spotting her lap desk and hurrying over. Everyone in the room watched in silence as she lifted the top and riffled through the contents before returning with a card in hand.

  “Only last week, we had my husband and his younger brother fitted for their celebration finery.” She held the card out to Lord Ailesbury. If she noticed the scars on his neck, Theo was polite enough not to let her eyes linger on them. “If you prefer, the tailor will gladly journey to your townhouse for fittings.”

  Adeline watched in muted silence as Theo took over as hostess, her rightful duty as Viscountess Melton. At some point over the last year, Adeline’s dear friend had changed until she was barely recognizable as the shy, quiet girl she’d once been.

  Yet, the same was true of Adeline, wasn’t it?

  Those around her might not notice, but she certainly did.

  “The dinner and ball will be held here on the morrow. Eight o’clock sharp,” Adeline heard Theo say. “My husband and I are pleased you will attend.”

  “The pleasure is all mine, I assure you,” Jasper contended. “Now, I will take my leave.”

  “Thank you for seeing my sister home safely.” Alistair moved to the front of his desk as Jasper nodded and turned to depart.

  “I will see you out, my lord.” Adeline was not about to give the man time to say his farewells to her, as well. She purposefully faced away from Theo and her brother, not wanting to see their reactions nor show them hers. “I must needs make certain all my things have been removed to the house.”

  Chapter 16

  Jasper had little other option but to match Miss Adeline’s stride as they walked side by side back toward the foyer. He’d thought to give his farewells and slip from the house without further commotion; however, given what he knew of Adeline thus far, she was not one to make things simple…in any way.

  “Are you truly going to come to the celebration tomorrow night?”

  Her question was the exact same as the one bouncing about in his head.

  A question he hadn’t the answer for yet; nonetheless, he heard himself reply, “It would be impolite to turn down Lord and Lady Melton’s invitation, would it not?”

  “Perhaps,” she sighed, setting her hand on his arm in an attempt to slow his pace. “However, I understand you are needed in Kent. Please, do not stay in London on my account. There are repairs to be made at the plant, Grovedale to check on, your estate to maintain—“

  He halted suddenly, Adeline wobbling to a stop next to him. “If you are unhappy with my acceptance of your brother’s invitation, I will give my regrets and depart.” The last place Jasper wanted to be was somewhere he wasn’t wanted. And never would he willingly force himself to dress like a London dandy and attend a ball where he knew nearly no one and was unaware of the social protocols involved. He’d never attended a dinner party, let alone a soirée for such a grand occasion. The possibility that he might embarrass Adeline and her family was not at all easy to ignore.

  Adeline’s eyes widened. “I am the opposite of unhappy at your acceptance, it is only that I do not wish to cause you unease. You were very open about your lack of interest in town life, and I would never force you into a situation not of your choosing.”

  “Very noble of you, Adeline,” he said, realizing his mistake quickly and glancing about to make certain no one had overheard him call her by her given name. “You should know, however, I am not one to accept an invitation if I am not willing to fulfill the obligation.”

  “That is exactly it,” she grumbled, also keeping her voice low. “I do not seek to be an obligation to you. Mayhap I was during my time at Faversham Abbey, but now I am home and no longer your responsibility.”

  Jasper blew out a raspy breath. “Do consolidate your thoughts, Miss Adeline. Either you wish my attendance at your celebration, or you do not. Which is it?”

  “Of course, I want you there,” she huffed.

  “Then it is settled,” Jasper said with a curt nod. “I will contact your brother’s tailor as soon as I arrive at my townhouse, and I will see you at dusk tomorrow evening.”

  It seemed an eternity away, hours that would be spent in an unfamiliar house, in a strange city, and surrounded by unknown servants. He’d had no plan to visit his London residence. If he remembered correctly, his man of business in London kept a staff of five in the townhome at all times to maintain the property and keep vandals at bay. It certainly was not because they expected their master could arrive unannounced at any time.

  He’d be lucky if a suitable room could be found for him.

  For a brief moment, he pondered returning to Lord Melton’s study and accepting his offer of lodging. But doing that would keep Jasper in very close proximity to Adeline, and that was something he must avoid. Keeping his hands off her for the entire carriage ride had been made possible only because Adeline’s maid had kept a vigilant watch over the pair.

  He needs must remember who he was, and who she was. Where he belonged: Faversham. And where she belonged: London.

  There was no more proof needed than their few moments outside after disembarking the coach. She’d stepped right up to command the servants in their duties and speak with those seeking her ear. He’d been happy to watch from the shadows.

  Night and day, they were.

  She shone brightest in the sun, while he was mostly hidden amidst the shadows.

  Though, Adeline was different. She hadn’t pushed him into the darkness and demand he exist there as the villagers did. It appeared she desired him at her side.

  An awkward silence stretched between them, both lost in their own thoughts yet continuing to stare at one another.

  Finally, it was Adeline who spoke. “Will you meet me at Regent’s Park tomorrow morning? Ten o’clock? That is my usual practice hour. I will be there with my bow. I know you are adept at hunting, but I’d relish the opportunity to see how you fair with a true target.”

  How could he deny her anything? Her hazel stare locked with his, and everything and everyone disappeared as she inched closer to him. He should instruct her to remain a respectable distance away as they were no longer at the Abbey. His trusted, loyal servants were not herein.

  George waited by his coach, but other than him, Jasper knew not a soul but Adeline.

  A sudden realization had him stumbling back a step. He trusted her.

  He wasn’t remaining in London because of her brother’s invitation. He’d decided to stay in London for her. Part of him suspected he’d made the decision long before leaving Faversham Abbey that morning.

  “Yes, I will meet you,” he conceded. Or at least he hoped she thought he agreed with reluctance. Because the alternative would be that he was willing to throw society’s rules out the window to have another day, possibly two, with Adeline. “How will I find you? I suspect the park is large.”

  Her smile, coy but enchanting nonetheless, told him she’d known all along he would accept. Though his reasoning had little to do with competition and targets and everything to do with her. In the short time they’d been in London, Jasper had noticed a different side to her, a side she’d either kept hidden in Kent or, more likely, a part she hadn’t had need to express there.

  Good or bad.

  Jasper hadn’t decided.

  “I am certain you will not miss me,” she replied with a soft laugh as a maid departed a room down the hall, and Jasper took a step away from Adeline. “I will bring a bow for your use.”

  “That is appreciated, for I doubt I can throw an arrow and hit the target.” He leaned in close as the maid turned a corner and moved out of sight. “Fare thee well, Adeline.”

  “And you, Jasper.”

  He turned, strode toward the foyer, and departed th
e Melton townhouse with a grin that had been absent when he entered not long before. His coach waited in the drive, George in his place with the reins.

  “Kebberstone Townhouse,” Jasper shouted, climbing into the coach.

  “Kebberstone?” He ignored the surprise in George’s tone. “Right away, m’lord.”

  Jasper had little doubt his servant knew the way well. He’d served his father for several years before his sire’s death and had even made the journey to London to collect Jasper’s solicitor when the need arose.

  Settling back against the seat, Jasper turned his stare to the fabric-covered ceiling of the coach as it moved evenly back onto the lane and headed toward his townhouse on St. James, the magnitude of his rash—though conscious—decision settling heavily upon his shoulders.

  Returning to a townhouse that had been all but deserted since his parents’ deaths, commissioning a proper wardrobe for his stay, and attending his first London ball. A few days prior, Jasper would have never thought to find himself away from the Abbey, let alone making the journey to town.

  And it was as if Lord and Lady Melton hadn’t so much as noticed his scars—nor questioned Adeline’s arrival home in the company of a stranger. And how had Adeline not told him her birthday was only a few days off? Not that he’d have done anything with the information. For, certainly, it would be scandalous for him to buy her a gift: flowers, new hair ribbons, a necklace. That was not a stranger’s place.

  Perhaps a note of congratulations would be appropriate, for he would have been in Faversham, and she in London.

  He could not deny how drastically their situation had altered since that very morning.

  “M’lord?”

  Jasper opened his eyes and glanced in the direction of George’s voice to find him standing in the open doorway of the coach. Jasper’s mind had wandered so far he hadn’t noticed the conveyance had pulled to a stop, nor George climbing down from his post, or the opening of the door and the light that flooded the interior.

  “We have arrived, m’lord.”

  “As I can see.” He departed the carriage and glanced up at the three-story townhouse before him. If he’d been here in his youth, he had no recollection of it. “Do you think the servants will be shocked?”

  “I won’t be say’n that, but happy they certainly be.”

  Happy? To meet a lord they’d never served? To remain all but forgotten in London as Jasper continued on at Faversham?

  No, he could not fathom them being happy about getting called into action with no warning by an absent master.

  “Let us get on with this,” Jasper mumbled. “I have agreed to attend Miss Adeline’s birthday celebration, and it is imperative I am ready before tomorrow eve.”

  Before he reached the set of double doors, they swung open.

  Jasper narrowed his eyes, praying they would adjust quickly to the dim interior of the home, to see who stood within.

  “Lord Ailesbury? Is that you?” a voice called out. “Well, I’ll be a holly sprig in July.”

  A familiar voice. A comforting voice. A voice that even after all these years, Jasper could never forget.

  “Conover?” Jasper’s chest tightened, afraid he’d mistaken a distant memory for the present. “It cannot be.”

  “It is, my lord, it surely is.” His father’s valet stepped over the threshold of Kebberstone Townhouse, and Jasper wrapped the man in a tight embrace.

  “I had no idea you were in London.” Jasper had wondered for years what had happened to his father’s most trusted servant. “I must admit, I am overjoyed to see you.”

  “And you, my lord,” Conover bowed. “You have grown into a fine man, if you don’t mind me saying so.”

  “I don’t mind at all,” Jasper said with a chuckle. “And your wife, is she within?”

  The man nodded, his jowls jumping up and down. “She is, she is. She took over the housekeeping here at Kebberstone. And Mrs. Bays moved with us, too.”

  At the mention of Mrs. Bays, his old nursemaid, his stomach rolled, and unease filled him. Her husband, who’d served as the steward in Faversham, died in the fire—because Jasper had been too weak to save him. Unable to save anyone.

  He’d always wondered what had happened to the woman. He’d been too young to question her disappearance then, but as he aged, Jasper had assumed she returned to her family—perhaps even remarried and had children.

  “We are pleased you are here, my lord.”

  Jasper clasped the man on his shoulder as they turned to enter the house. “You might not say that after you hear what is needed and with all due haste.”

  “Oh, I assure you, nothing will lessen our excitement to be of service to you, Lord Ailesbury.”

  A line of servants stood at attention in the foyer, though Jasper was unsure when they’d been summoned or how they all arrived so quickly. He smiled to Mrs. Bays and Conover’s wife and nodded to several others who were vaguely familiar to him from his youth.

  “Delilah, have a room readied for Lord Ailesbury. The master’s room,” Conover commanded. “My lord, can I presume you still enjoy duck soup and apple pie?”

  He hadn’t seen the servant in nearly fifteen years, and the man had never been responsible for Jasper, yet he remembered his favored childhood meals.

  “Yes, you presume correctly.”

  “I will have Cook prepare both.” Conover beamed. “Is there aught else I can do for you, my lord? A bath, perchance? Or…a drink. Yes, I can have whatever liquor you favor brought to…the study, the library, or your chambers—immediately.”

  Jasper chuckled, a weight lifting from his shoulders. “Neither is necessary. I am in need of a tailor, though. I have been invited to a ball tomorrow night, and I have need of proper attire.”

  Conover tapped his chin in thought. “Well, I can summon—“

  “I have been given the name and directions for a tailor favored by Lord and Lady Melton if that helps,” Jasper offered. “I know this is short notice, but I will also need other assorted shirts and trousers, for I have little idea how long I will stay in London.”

  “Very good, my lord.” The servant clapped his hands, and the line of staff dispensed, all except Delilah, the butler’s wife. “I will send for the man straight away.”

  “Thank you, Conover.” Jasper followed Delilah as she headed toward the stairs.

  “My lord?” Conover called.

  Jasper halted and faced the servant.

  “We are ever so happy you are here.”

  “As am I, Conover, as am I.” He continued after Delilah—up the stairs, down a hallway, left turn, and down another corridor to stand before another set of double doors. This pair did not open to reveal a friendly face from his past.

  “We kept the room nice, as well as the entire house, my lord.” Delilah paused, her hand on the latch as if debating her next move. “It is just as your parents left it. We were not given any other instructions.”

  When Jasper nodded, the housekeeper opened the door, and he faced a nearly full-size portrait of his parents. In the pose, his father stood behind where his mother was positioned in a chair, with a tiny boy seated on the floor beside her.

  The child didn’t look familiar at all, though he knew the boy to be him at about age four; however, the man and woman were exactly as Jasper remembered, though his father’s jawline and nose were a bit more severe than he recalled. His mother’s neck more swanlike than his memories held, and her hair far darker than Jasper’s was now.

  Other than those trivial discrepancies, they were as Jasper envisioned them. The couple he’d nearly perished trying to save from the fire. The parents who’d called him farther and farther into the fire where they’d been trapped under a fallen rafter as the blaze consumed the stable.

  Jasper knew, with certainty, he never would have been able to save them. He’d been too young and small, the rafter too heavy for him to lift without assistance, and the fire’s flames far too hot for anyone to sustain enough breath to pul
l the couple free.

  Why did he remember the sound of their voices urging him forward, farther into the burning building? It was the nightmare that woke him night after night for more years than Jasper wanted to count. He’d prayed it was a false memory—a boy’s guilt materializing in his dreams—but he clearly recalled his father shouting at him to save them, that if Jasper only hurried, they would all three be rescued.

  But Jasper had not been strong enough, had not had the strength to make it far into the stables before his lungs filled with black smoke and his mind grew hazy and slow. His body had followed suit, and he’d lost consciousness only ten feet into the stables. A servant had pulled him from the fire as the flames licked at his neck, arm, and leg—scorching his skin.

  He should have been abed, as should his parents, but instead they were searching the house and stables for Jasper. He’d selected the hidden room under the main stairs that night for his reading hour. He hadn’t been the cause of the fire, yet that did nothing to diminish his guilt at the outcome of it all. It was not his candle that started the first but he was the reason his family perished—they would not have been anywhere close to the stables if Jasper hadn’t been found on many a night sleeping in the rafters.

  “Can I have a meal brought up, my lord?”

  When Jasper brought his stare to the housekeeper, he noted that she kept her eyes trained on the floor at her feet, as if attempting to give Jasper a moment of privacy, yet suspecting he also needed someone there to pull him from the past to his present.

  He cleared his throat and blinked several times to dispel the tears that’d clouded his vision. “I think I shall await word from the tailor in the study.”

  If his voice cracked as he spoke, she did not react to it.