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Was it his imagination, or did something break in her eyes?

“I will destroy the papers. Goodbye, Lady Bardsley. And be well.”

He turned, forever closing himself away from her and breathing hard, trying keep the pieces of his broken heart together.

Only what for, if the happiness that had been at his fingertips had disappeared forever?

16

Sir Jasper loomed over Emma as she sewed a white peony in the drawing room of their home in Bardsley House, with its pale beige walls and the yellowing watercolors of local landscapes. The drawing room was always cold, no matter the weather, and there was always this draft from a gap in the window frame that sent gusts over the coals in the grate, making them crackle and spark. It had needed repair long ago, but Sir Jasper didn’t want to spend money on it.

The old green sofa where Emma sat was so threadbare that the sheep’s wool stuffing poked out in places.

She’d never felt that this place was her home. Sir Jasper had refused any suggestions that she gave to improve or repair it or make it cozier and homier, like she wanted.

His crotch, in his pale beige breeches, was dangerously close to her face. Her fingers tensed around her needle, and she commanded herself to try to think about peonies.

“Two weeks have passed, my dear,” said Sir Jasper, one hand on his waist. “And you still haven’t allowed me to touch you.”

The thought of him touching her brought bile up her throat. Here she was, back in her old prison, when Sebastian and her freedom and happiness had been so close…

She straightened her shoulders and held her head high, but she was dying inside.

“What, Lady Kinlea isn’t available?” she asked without looking at him.

“Shut your mouth,” he growled. “Do not make me use the evidence I have against the Duke of Loxchester to make you allow me into your bed. I will use it if I must.”

“Sir Jasper, you’re not behaving like a gentleman,” she said calmly.

Sir Jasper grasped her hand that held the needle. “Do not dare lecture me about behavior. You’re a common whore. Do you think I don’t know that you gave yourself to the duke while you keep refusing your own husband?”

She jerked her hand away. She couldn’t care less about Sir Jasper’s pestering when all she’d seen in her mind’s eye for the past two weeks was the cold stare Sebastian had given her, the pain in his eyes when she’d said she chose Sir Jasper… She couldn’t bear it.

But he’d be all right. He’d never loved her anyway. She was nothing but a game. A means to break the unwanted marriage arrangement with Lady Isabella Greene. A means to stir scandal. He had never promised her a happily ever after anyway.

He had been clear on his intentions from the beginning.

But, silly her, she had believed in happiness because that was what she was…a naive, overly optimistic woman. She had fallen in love with him.

At least she had kept Sebastian out of danger for now, and she’d keep him and his mother safe for the rest of her life, if she had to.

“I have my courses,” she said, knowing perfectly well she wouldn’t be able to use this excuse for the rest of her miserable life.

Through the window, the rattle of hooves and wheels caught their attention. A big, rich carriage drew up and stopped in the driveway before the house. The footman opened the door, and the Duchess of Grandhampton in her black mourning clothes stepped out.

“Who is that?” asked Sir Jasper.

Emma’s heart ached as she stood up. The duchess would always be a reminder and a connection with Sebastian. But what could she want?

“The Duchess of Grandhampton,” said Emma.

After their housekeeper announced her, the older lady came in, and Sir Jasper closed his gaping mouth.

“Ah. Lady Bardsley. Sir Jasper,” said the duchess. Her expression was somber, but she attempted a smile. “I wonder if I might take a walk with you, Lady Bardsley.”

Emma nodded and put her needlework on the table. As they walked out into the small hallway, she put on her pelisse and her bonnet, and then they went outside.

Emma inhaled the scent of rotting leaves, looking at the golden, red, and orange trees on top of the farthest hill.