Pride and Pleasure

Chapter 17

Eliza was perusing the morning’s papers at the breakfast table when Vanessa Chilcott appeared. Her stepsister was dressed in the housekeeper’s clothes-a high-neck shirt that was slightly too snug around the breasts and a skirt that was a tad too long-but she carried herself with unassailable dignity.

“Good morning,” Eliza greeted her, before returning to reading the reports of the fire the day prior.

“Good morning, Miss Martin.”

It took a few moments for Eliza to realize the other woman was rooted to one spot. Frowning, she peeked over the top of the page. She gestured toward the console against the wall where plates and covered platters waited. “The food is there. Please help yourself to whatever you like.”

As if all she’d needed was permission, Vanessa nodded and moved to serve herself. When she was finished and settled at the table, she said, “Congratulations on your wedding yesterday.”

Eliza bit her lower lip and set the paper down. “Should I have asked you to attend? I was unsure after the events at the store and the discovery of our…relation to one another, whether I should or not.”

Vanessa blinked. She stared at Eliza in the manner most people did when they comprehended how little she knew about etiquette.

“Good morning, ladies,” Jasper said as he entered the room. His stride was easy and inherently sensual, with a touch of leisure as if time was no concern. “My wife is blessed with an extraordinarily pragmatic nature, Miss Chilcott. She rarely means offense when she observes-or does not observe, as the case may be-certain social mores.”

Nodding, Vanessa watched as Jasper walked the length of the room to where Eliza sat at the far end. There was blatant appreciation in the blonde’s eyes, a knowing understanding of what type of man he was-ruthlessly deliberate and dangerously sexual. Eliza imagined it would be impossible for any red-blooded woman to be immune to him. After all, as oblivious as she’d personally been toward men, she hadn’t failed to want him either.

“I took no offense,” Vanessa assured. “I’m grateful to have had a roof over my head last night.”

Eliza shrugged. “It was the most reasonable course of action to have you stay here. You lost more than I did in the fire.”

Jasper set one hand on the table and the other on the back of Eliza’s chair. Bending, he kissed her temple and whispered, “I had need of you this morning, madam. In the future, you should order a tray brought to our rooms.”

Her breath caught. Jasper had displayed a marked insatiability throughout the night, waking her repeatedly to take her again and again. On her back. Sprawled on her stomach. Arranged on her side. With her heels in the air or her thighs between his. Deep and shallow, hard and soft, pounding possessions and slow, endless glides…His repertoire of sensual delights was vast, and she suspected he’d shown her only a smidgeon of what he was capable of.

As he straightened, she turned her head, impulsively pressing her lips to his. He stiffened in surprise, then gave an encouraging hum, remaining still as she kissed him sweetly. When she withdrew, Jasper’s smile curled her toes. He traced the bridge of her nose with his fingertip, then he stepped away to fetch his own plate.

Bolstered by his presence and verbal support, Eliza took a deep breath and turned her focus to her stepsister. Vanessa’s attention was firmly on her food, her eyes downcast as if to say she couldn’t possibly be aware of the scandalous behavior taking place at the other end of the long room.

Vanessa cleared her throat. “Whether or not it was reasonable to provide lodging to a tenant who lied on her application is debatable, I think. I doubt many would have done so.”

“But you are not simply a tenant,” Eliza pointed out. “You are my stepsister.”

A wry smile twisted Vanessa’s lips. “Which is more of a detriment than an endorsement, is it not?”

Jasper pulled out the chair at the foot of the table, which was directly to Eliza’s right, and sat.

Eliza nodded, seeing no point in being untruthful.

“Unfalteringly candid,” Vanessa said. “My father quite enjoyed that about you, Miss Martin. He said it was freeing. It inspired him to be a better man.”

“I don’t mean to be rude, but he never mentioned you.”

One blond brow rose. “When did you give him the opportunity?”

Eliza opened her mouth, then shut it again.

“Exactly.” Vanessa carefully sliced into her black pudding with her knife. “I don’t blame you. You are astute, and you knew straightaway that he pursued your mother for the fortune left by your father. It’s all true what they say about us Chilcotts.”

Nonplussed, Eliza glanced at Jasper, whose face was austere and gave away none of his thoughts.

“See this?” Vanessa set down her utensils and held out her hand. She pointed to a reddish birthmark that rested over the back of her wrist. “My grandmother once told me you could spot the rotten fruit in our family tree because we all bear this ‘bruise.’”

“I see,” Eliza said.

“What you do not see, however, is that even bruised fruit sometimes has salvageable parts. In my father’s case, it was his heart. He courted your mother for her money; he married her because he loved her.”

Eliza’s hands linked together on the table. “If he’d truly cared for her, he would have been a positive influence.”

“That sounds reasonable,” Vanessa agreed. “But love is not reasonable. Love is wanting to see the other person as happy as possible as often as possible. Leastwise that’s how my father viewed love. As you know, it wasn’t an easy task keeping Lady Georgina happy. If he cared for her not at all, he could have had her committed. Or he could have taken her to the country and left her there. Or the Continent. Perhaps she might have taken a liking to America-”

“I understand what you’re saying.”

Jasper reached over and set one hand atop both of Eliza’s.

“I think you should know,” Vanessa continued, “you were a positive influence on my father, who in turn extolled the virtues of respectable living to me. He’s the one who convinced me I could make an honest living.”

Eliza was at a loss as to how to handle the conversation. What could she say that wasn’t already known to Vanessa? “I’m sorry my difficulties with Mr. Reynolds spilled over into your life.”

Vanessa shrugged. “I blame my surname for Mr. Reynolds’s actions against my shop, not you. I believe he rented the space to me with the intention of extorting from me whatever money he thought I intended to extort from you. When I caught him igniting the paraffin, he said, ‘Don’t worry. I can still ensure you see a profit from your plans.’ That was when I hit him with the poker.”

“Dear God.”

“I must have seemed like the kindest of fates to him, falling so neatly into his lap through no effort on his part. A Chilcott to use as another means to garner more of your money.”

Jasper looked at Eliza. “By distracting you with the fire and removing me with a bullet, Reynolds likely hoped his services would seem even more valuable. In the process, he would have discredited Mr. Bell and cast suspicion on Montague, ensuring those avenues no longer seemed viable to you.”

“He had no way of knowing,” she murmured, loving him all the more, “that you would forsake a chance to thwart Montague in favor of me.”

He squeezed her hand.

Eliza glanced at Vanessa. “What will you do now?”

“I’ve spent much of my life making decisions based upon my surname. Even when taking a new direction, I did so by comparing it to the known alternative, which is still allowing the name to define me. No more. The store was a lovely dream, but I’m not certain it was my dream.”

“I should like for you to stay here in the interim,” Eliza said, startling herself.

“Another Martin inviting another Chilcott to live under her roof?”

“The parallel did not even occur to me.” She’d made the decision impulsively and from the heart.

Jasper offered an encouraging smile.

“When you’re finished,” she said to him, “I would like to speak to you privately.”

“Of course.”

Robbins appeared in the open dining room doorway, bearing a calling card. He crossed the length of the room and set the silver salver in the space between Eliza and Jasper. “The Earl of Westfield has come to call.”

“Send him in,” Jasper said.

A moment later, Westfield entered the room, looking windblown and dashing for it.

“Good morning,” he called out to the room at large, but his eyes were on Vanessa. “How fortunate. I haven’t yet eaten.”

“You’re late, my lord,” Jasper drawled.

“I cannot remember the last time I was out of bed at this hour. Only for you would I be conscious.”

“Perhaps you should consider retiring to bed earlier, my lord,” Vanessa said.

“What fun is there in that, Miss Chilcott?”

Vanessa kept her gaze on her plate. “That would be dependent upon who else is in the bed.”

Jasper glanced at Eliza. His dark eyes were laughing. “My wife and I must adjourn, but please, enjoy yourself.”

Westfield smiled. “I intend to.”

“I wonder if I should warn Miss Chilcott about Westfield,” Jasper said, as he and Eliza ascended the steps to her rooms.

“And here I was wondering if Westfield needed a similar warning.” She smiled and there was an openness to the gesture that nearly caused Jasper to miss a step. “However, I think they are well-matched. Neither will gain much advantage with the other, I suspect. Although it’s clear Westfield is hoping otherwise.”

“He has an eye for beautiful women.”

She looked aside at him. “Just so long as you do not.”

“I cannot agree to that, I’m afraid. You see, there is a beautiful woman who shares my life, and I could never agree not to have an eye for her.”

They entered her boudoir, and Jasper expected they would retire to the bedroom. They were newly wedded, after all. But Eliza sat on one of the sitting-room settees and arranged her striped skirts as if settling in for a not inconsiderable length of time. Her assertive nose was lifted high and her jaw was set.

Recognizing the signs of determination, Jasper shrugged out of his coat. “I’m impressed with how the conversation between you and Miss Chilcott progressed.”

“I understand what she means in regards to allowing exterior forces to define us. For so long, I allowed my frustration with my mother to define me and my choices.” She took a deep breath and said, “Even when it came to marrying you.”

He took a seat beside her. “Whatever concerns you had about repeating your mother’s mistakes were bravely managed. You would not be wearing my ring otherwise.”

Eliza watched him lift her hand to his lips and press a kiss to her ruby and diamond wedding ring. “But you see, as determined as I was not to marry because of my mother, when I reversed my position it was also because of her. I became so determined that she wouldn’t be the reason I refused you, that she became the reason I accepted you.”

Unsure of where the conversation was going and certain he didn’t like hearing she’d wed him for any other reason than loving him, Jasper retained his light hold on her hand. “What are you saying?”

“Mr. Reynolds attempted to sway me against you, and even when he relayed information meant to incite doubt and concern, I dismissed my own disquiet because not marrying you had taken on the meaning of giving my mother a victory.” Her fingers tightened on his. “Do you understand?”

“I think I do. Do you still have those concerns and doubts?” He rubbed his chest with his free hand, fighting the restriction he’d begun to feel.

She smiled. “No.”

Jasper had to focus on relaxing his jaw. “Did you ever believe, for even a moment, that I wanted to marry you solely to prevent Montague from attaining your fortune? Did you believe I might utilize your fortune to ensure he could not climb out of the hole he dug for himself?”

“I want you to take whatever amount is required to achieve your aims,” she said quietly. “Use whatever you need.”

He stared at her, speechless.

“What nearly happened yesterday,” she went on, “with Anne Reynolds and the failed ambush…It was your past defining you. I couldn’t give myself fully to our marriage until I released myself from my mother’s influence. The same applies to you.”

Jasper stood in a rush. “My mother came to London for the Season. She was a diamond of the first water. She had her pick of husbands.”

“But she fell prey to the late Earl of Montague?”

Her gentle tone nearly undid him. He’d never shared his mother’s tale with anyone. Lynd knew it only because he’d borne witness to it.

“Yes.” Jasper shoved a hand through his hair. “Unlike the young lady we heard in the Cranmores’ garden the other night, my mother went willingly to Montague’s bed.”

“Jane Rothschild,” she supplied.

“But like Jane Rothschild, my mother became pregnant.” He began to pace. “When Montague refused to offer for her, she had to tell her brother. Lord Gresham’s response was to disown her.”

“Her own sibling…Is that why you don’t bear his name?”

“I changed it legally. He left her in the city when he retired to Ireland, Eliza. She had nowhere to turn.”

“I cannot imagine.” Her voice was barely a whisper. “Being so helpless.”

He spoke more harshly than he intended. “And yet you freely offer me the means by which you are independent?”

She met his gaze unflinchingly. “You’re angry with me for offering my support?”

“No. Damnation. I’m angry at Montague for placing money between us!” He reached the wall and pivoted. “My mother turned to him. Begged him. He made her his mistress, then boasted to one and all that he’d reduced the Season’s brightest star to being his whore. When his luck in the gambling hells ran out and his debts mounted, someone offered to take a night with my mother as payment.”

“Oh, Jasper,” she breathed. “Where were you in all of this?”

“I was in the schoolroom during the day, and locked in my bedchamber at night. Some of the men Montague sent to her brought gifts and tokens of esteem. They remembered how promising her future had been and took pity on her. She pawned them all and used the money to fund my education…and her growing dependence on opium.”

Jasper didn’t look at Eliza as he spoke, knowing if he saw pity in her eyes he wouldn’t be able to continue.

“As Montague’s financial situation declined,” he went on, “so did the quality of my mother’s lodging, the men who came to her, and the gifts they brought her. She wasn’t willing to allow my education to suffer, so she began to earn money the only way she could…through whatever acts and degradation were required.”

His voice hardened. “Meanwhile, I learned all I could from my tutors, so that one day I could ruin Montague the way he ruined my mother. I was furious when he passed on before I was ready.”

There was a length of silence, during which all he heard was Eliza’s elevated breathing. Finally, she said, “What happened to your mother is unconscionable, Jasper. A cruelty so vile I could never have imagined it possible. And his son is cut of the same cloth.”

She stood and came to him, catching him around the waist mid-stride and forcing him to accept the comfort she offered. He stood stiffly for a long moment, breathing hard, his mind filled with scenes from a past he wished desperately to forget. Then the scent of her perfume penetrated through the fog of memories and brought him back to the present. Back to the wife he’d never expected to have, yet could no longer imagine living without.

He pressed his cheek to her crown. “I know what you sacrifice with your offer. As consumed as I’ve been by vengeance, I could easily squander everything you and your father have built. You know this, but you love me enough to put my needs first.”

“I do love you.” Her arms banded tightly around him. “I want you to be happy.”

“And I love you. I understood when I sent Lynd to deal with Mrs. Reynolds’s assignment that what I wanted most was to spend time with you. I also realized Montague could rob me of that, if I allowed him to.” He leaned back to look at her. “If I allowed him to define me and my actions.”

She swallowed. “What will you do?”

“I intend to ask Westfield to return the deed to Montague, and I will wash my hands of him. That’s why West-field is here this morning. You see, my mother wins if I enjoy a life of happiness with a beautiful wife and rambunctious, extremely bright children. The victory would be hers.”

Her hands cupped his face, her blue eyes shining with unshed tears and a love that humbled him. She was about to speak when a knock came at the door.

“Don’t move,” Jasper admonished.

Eliza’s dimple flashed, and he almost told whoever was bothering them to return in a few hours. Or days…

He pulled the door open.

Robbins stood in the gallery. “Forgive me, Mr. Bond. There is a Runner here to see you and Mrs. Bond. A Mr. Bell.”

“Right. Thank you. We’ll be down in a moment.”

Jasper collected his coat. Eliza accepted his arm when he was ready and they descended to the ground floor. As they passed the parlor, Westfield could be heard speaking with Miss Chilcott. He sounded affronted.

They met with Mr. Bell in Eliza’s study.

The Runner declined to take a seat and looked grim. “Yesterday, Mrs. Reynolds mentioned the Earl of Montague multiple times.”

Jasper kept his expression neutral, but shot a quick look at Eliza, who nodded.

“Right,” Bell said. “I’ve no notion-yet-of how his lordship is connected to yesterday’s events, but I thought it might be relevant to tell you he was murdered an hour ago.”

Eliza lost the color in her cheeks, but said nothing. Jasper, too, needed a moment to absorb the news. He was surprised, then relieved to realize he felt no regret or anger, as he’d felt when his father died. Montague’s escape into death robbed him of nothing. Everything he needed was standing right beside him.

“How?” Jasper asked finally.

“Miss Jane Rothschild did the deed,” the Runner relayed. “Shot his lordship in the heart with her father’s pistol.”