Sylvia Day - Pride and Pleasure

“And you were not swayed by this?”

“No. Which left him no option, I suppose, aside from this last-minute attempt to delay the ceremony.” She looked up, finding Jasper watching her with a dark, fierce gaze. “But it would only delay the inevitable. Surely, he knew that. What was his aim? I had no intention of releasing him from his position. His circumstances would not have altered.”

“We’ll uncover his secrets, love.” He sheltered her in his embrace, anchoring her as no one else in her life ever had. “I promise you that. Every last one of them.”

With Westfield at his side, Jasper escorted Eliza and Vanessa Chilcott into the Melville residence. Disheveled and reeking of smoke, the four of them were incongruous in a household prepared for the celebration of a wedding. They stood shoulder to shoulder in the foyer, hard-faced and bemused.

Lady Collingsworth hurried from the ballroom where the ceremony was to take place and came to an abrupt halt a few feet away. “Dear God,” she muttered. “The parson awaits you, but it’s clear I should reschedule.”

“No,” Eliza said, astonishing Jasper. “If he can wait an hour, I can be ready.”

Recovering, Jasper said, “I can be repaired within an hour as well.”

Blinking rapidly, Lady Collingsworth took in Miss Chilcott’s appearance.

“Regina,” Eliza said briskly, “this is Miss Vanessa Chilcott, my stepsister. Vanessa, this is the dowager Countess of Collingsworth.”

“My lady,” Vanessa whispered, curtseying.

Admiration and pride filled Jasper. He could think of no other woman who would wade through the morass of the day’s events with such aplomb. Eliza could have left Miss Chilcott to her own devices after learning the truth of her identity. Instead, she had asked one question of the woman- “Why?”-to which Miss Chilcott replied, “I want to be self-sufficient and independent. Who better to learn from than you? And how else to manage it, but to shed the Chilcott name that has defined my life thus far?”

Eliza had offered to take the woman in for now, since Miss Chilcott’s residence and all her possessions had been lost in the fire. At the very least, it kept the woman close while they delved into her circumstances. They would address other considerations tomorrow.

“Miss Chilcott will need a bath and a room,” Eliza said. “If you could see to that, Regina, I would be deeply grateful.”

“Of course.” Lady Collingsworth looked at Jasper. “You have visitors, Mr. Bond. In the parlor.”

Jasper met Eliza’s querying gaze by extending his arm. I go where you go, she’d said, and despite everything, she wished to be married to him with as much haste as he felt. He treasured her for that and countless other things.

Westfield set off to join the handful of other guests in the ballroom. Jasper and Eliza moved into the formal parlor. There were five people in the room. The Crouch twins, Lynd, Anthony Bell, and Mrs. Francesca Maybourne.

Surveying the group with raised brows, Jasper wondered why the lot of them was in attendance. He was about to ask that very question, when Eliza spoke.

“Good afternoon, Mrs. Reynolds,” she said softly. “After today’s events, I was not expecting to see you again.”

“I went to the jeweler,” Lynd explained, “but Bell was nowhere to be found, which raised my suspicions.”

Eliza continued listening to the recounting of the second half of the Reynolds’s plot with a heavy heart. While she was deeply grateful for the plan’s failure, she was painfully conscious that the hazard would not have existed if Jasper wasn’t determined to destroy Montague. How much of his energy was focused on that endeavor? Would she ever have all of him? Or was the largest piece of his heart given to the woman from his past whom Montague had destroyed?

And yet she had to take heart. He’d come to marry her and sent Lynd after Montague in his stead.

“Sometimes,” Jasper said quietly, “what looks too good to be true is precisely that.”

Lynd nodded. “It was wise of you to send the Crouches with me. Together we watched the street for close to an hour and we noted one hackney that was a fixture the entire time. Patrick walked by it and-aided by his tremendous height- was able to see Mrs. Reynolds waiting inside with a pistol in her lap. I sent Peter to fetch Bell so he could confirm the story she gave us. Bell didn’t know her, but apparently she knew enough about him, you, and Montague to create the perfect lure to draw you out. We brought her here to see what you thought of it all, having no notion her identity was false or that Miss Martin would know who she truly was.”

Eliza eyed Anne Reynolds with something akin to hatred, an emotion she’d never truly felt before. “Were you going to shoot Mr. Bond? Was it your intention to kill him?”

The brunette lowered the sodden kerchief she’d been sobbing into since learning of her husband’s demise and glared daggers at Jasper. “That isn’t his name. I have no notion what his given name truly is, but I can tell you his surname is Gresham. He is the son of Diana Gresham, who was a whore for Lord Montague until her death from a wasting disease.”

Jasper became so still it frightened Eliza. “Moderation would be wise,” he warned with dangerous softness.

“I know everything about you, Mr. Gresham,” Anne spat. “I told Mr. Reynolds to share what he knew with Miss Martin. After all, she’s the one who hired my brother-in-law to investigate your connection to Lord Gresham in County Wexford. ‘Tell her he isn’t what he says he is,’ I told him, but he insisted Miss Martin had only to believe you wanted her money to set you aside. He also feared rousing her concern if she was to learn he never recalled Tobias from Ireland. ’She might wonder what other orders I’ve disobeyed,’ he said. He should have listened to me.”

The explosive tension in the room was palpable. Eliza rushed to fill the void before Anne could ignite the situation further. “You wrote the threatening letters Lord Melville received.” It was not a question. “Why? What purpose did this all serve?”

Anne’s chin lifted and she looked away. “As if I would say anything further. I have done nothing wrong.”

“What of the incident at the Royal Academy?” Jasper asked with ice in his tone.

“Dear God. You cannot think we had anything to do with that! We are not murderers. I’ve had enough of this.” She stood. “You have no right to detain me.”

“I’ll be taking you in to Bow Street,” Bell said, rocking back on his heels. He was a short and slender man, almost delicate looking. “We’ll see if the magistrate agrees with you. ’Til then, sit down.”

“That’s an expensive cape you wear,” Jasper noted. “And sizable emeralds at your ears and throat. Either you came into your marriage with money, or Miss Martin paid your husband exceedingly well.”

Unaccustomed to noting such things, Eliza reevaluated the woman’s attire. Anne Reynolds’s ensemble did indeed seem far finer than Eliza’s own accoutrements. She looked at Jasper. “How? I manage my own funds…keep my own ledgers…”

“You do not deal directly with your tenants. Who collects the rents?”

“Mr. Reynolds.”

“Right,” Lynd said. “Is it possible what you believe you are charging and collecting isn’t what the tenants are actually paying to Reynolds?”

Eliza paled. “I suppose it’s possible, if he was clever enough about it.” Which she knew he could have been. She looked at Anne, who was also wan, if defiant. “If he raised the rents over time without my knowledge, or charged for miscellaneous items of which I wasn’t aware. We should ask Miss Chilcott and my other tenants. Dear God…they are all as much victims as I am.”

“That’s likely why Reynolds wanted Bond dead,” Bell said. “Once you had a husband to assist you, the embezzlement might’ve been discovered or Reynolds’ duties reduced. I’m sorry I didn’t believe you when you hired me, Miss Martin. Let that be a lesson to me in the future.”

Jasper remained deadly quiet and expressionless.

“This was to be my last Season,” Eliza said softly. “I intended to retire to the country with Melville, at which point a greater portion of my affairs would have been left in Mr. Reynolds’s hands. He and his wife were so close to achieving their aims that my sudden decision to marry Mr. Bond must have made them desperate.”

“If you marry him,” Anne said coldly, “you deserve what comes to you. At least Mr. Reynolds was concerned about building your wealth. Gresham, I am certain, intends to squander it.”

Eliza pushed to her feet, unable to bear any more. “I shall leave this matter to you, Mr. Bell. I’m confident you will apprise me of the necessary information.”

The Runner gave a curt nod. “Of course.”

“Mr. Bond,” Eliza murmured, which caused Anne to laugh. “Would you accompany me, please?”

“In a moment,” he said without inflection. “I’ll find you.”

Eliza made her egress on wooden legs, wondering if she would, indeed, be found, or if Jasper would now be lost to her. Perhaps he’d never truly been hers to begin with. For all their promises to be truthful to one another, it seemed they’d kept more secrets than they’d shared.

Jasper reached the top of the staircase and turned to the right, following the directions to Eliza’s room that Lady Collingsworth had given him. If the dowager countess thought it was inappropriate for him to ask for them, she gave no outward indication. Instead, she told him the parson was having a fine time with both the champagne and Lord Westfield’s witty discourse, and he’d agreed to stay as long as they wanted him to.

Inhaling deeply, Jasper lifted his hand to knock on Eliza’s boudoir door. As he waited for her to answer, he struggled against the feeling of being made of glass; he felt as if he might break at any moment. Perhaps it was the endless string of unexpected revelations that had him so unsettled. Or perhaps he was simply experiencing a bridegroom’s expected nervousness. He thought it might be terror over the prospect of losing something irreplaceable, but he didn’t have any frame of reference to be certain.