Page 19 of Love and Other Disasters

Sophie straightened her spine, ignoring her discomfort. “I’m not down here by choice, sir. Tell me where Lord Jasper is?”

“I’m not entirely certain at the moment,” the butler confessed, looking around as if Lord Jasper might be found behind a pillar or potted palm tree nearby. “The long gallery, perhaps?”

“Not that I saw just now when I was there, or in the garden.” The butler’s eyes bulged at her statement. “I must speak with him as soon as possible. Where did you last see him and when?”

“His study, that little room he’s taken over, but that was over an hour ago now, madam.”

Sophie ground her teeth. She’d no idea what little room the butler meant, but she’d no time or patience to chase Lord Jasper all over the house at this hour. She ought to go back upstairs and make sure no other guests were wandering where they ought not to be. “Very well. I want a servant posted on the second floor near the main staircase to prevent any more guests wandering up to the third floor. A pair I just encountered making love might have toppled over the balustrade to their deaths had I not been there to stop them. And when you see Lord Jasper, if you ever do before dawn, will you please inform him I need a word with him immediately?”

The butler shook his head. “It will have to wait until tomorrow.”

She put her hands on her hips. “I could bring the children downstairs, and we could all seek him out together?”

“No. That’s not a good idea,” the butler said, growing pale. “I will post a footman on the stairs and will speak with Lord Jasper on your behalf as soon as I lay eyes on him, but only if you promise to keep the children safely upstairs and away from all this.”

Since Sophie had no intention at all of waking her charges or bringing them down into this den of iniquity, it was an easy promise to make. “Agreed, but make no mistake, I will not forget about the matter before dawn comes. I will speak with Lord Jasper tonight, whether he likes it or not.”

Another set of doors burst open, and the guests from the garden tumbled inside with an overwhelming burst of raucous laughter. With them, she noted several young women. Young women she’d seen loitering about the nearest village on her infrequent shopping excursions. Women who, for a coin, would engage any gentlemen in need of release.

She blinked. Lord Jasper had brought cheap whores to Ravenswood, one of the finest houses in all of England. Had he no sense?

She had assumed he had experience in arranging events of salacious refinement, given the way he had carried on about the dildos and other things. To discover he offered his guests only base amusements no better than a dockside madam might offer a poor sailor was disappointing in the extreme. She’d thought he had some finesse and discretion, but clearly, he lacked the experience Sophie had been granted before becoming a governess.

Her friend Madam Clover would never approve. There were better ways to manage amorous men’s needs. More servants, more distractions, and definitely a better class of companion than these. Women who would not think to take money into their own delicate hands. That is what the madam was for. To arrange things properly so there could be no lack of fair payment and certainly no thievery possible.

Lord Jasper needed help.

Sophie could provide that help, too.

Not that he knew that or ever should. To offer her help would undoubtedly change the way he thought of her and not for the better.

Chapter Seven

Jasper winced as a pair of bachelors dived onto a drawing room chaise where a local whore lay strewn, barely covered by a shabby gown. He pulled the doors shut on their antics and turned on his heel to go anywhere else. Jasper was no voyeur. He had merely provided the service of the introduction to adventurous women in need of similar delights. But tonight was turning out to be more of a challenge to keep his guests in line than the last time he’d played host.

He turned to Seymour, who’d been glued to his side for the last ten minutes. “Next?”

“Mr. Fisher has asked for a riding crop,” Seymour said.

Jasper blinked. “Whatever for?”

“He seems to find particular enjoyment in flexing them, but has broken his own and a replacement, too. The young lady entertaining him indicated that he enjoys showing off his strength, such as it is.”

Jasper rolled his eyes. “There are no more crops I can afford to give away. The party is meant to make money for me, not incur expenses for replacements.”

“Yes, my lord,” the butler agreed. “But can you afford for Fisher to leave the house party early if his needs are not met?”

“No. He’s losing too well and often to let him storm off in a huff.” Jasper ground his teeth. “I know, send one gardener out to the willow trees to cut and strip a dozen lengths of a size similar to the riding crops and deliver them to him. That’s the best I can do.”

“Very good.”

Jasper was incurring a variety of costs he’d not expected hosting this little get-together at Ravenswood. A table had been unequal to the task of supporting a vigorous tupping, a set of fine wine glasses had been knocked to the ground and shattered, and other small, similar damages had occurred all over the palace.

He had been called away to the stables for only an hour and had come back to a mess he could do without. The servants had been apologetic, but they were not at fault. His guests were becoming almost too wild to be reasoned with. “Water the wine and spirits,” he whispered.

“Consider it done,” Seymour replied, and then cleared his throat. “There is one other matter that requires your attention.”

“Yes?”