His Wicked Heart (42 page)

Louisa glanced at Olivia but revealed not a
bit of surprise. “Thank you, Augusta.”

“Do you know when the wedding is to take
place? I presume they’ll wed at St. Paul’s. Don’t you agree? But
then perhaps you don’t know. I’m sure his bride is considering her
options.”

Lady Badby didn’t so much as look at Olivia,
which gave Olivia to understand that
she
was not the bride,
regardless of what Jasper had told her just a few hours before. Her
hands began to shake, and so she clamped them together at her
waist.

“Ah, well, I must be off. Oh, there’s Lady
Dalrymple. I wonder if she’s heard…” Lady Badby took herself
off.

Louisa turned to Olivia and pulled her into
the doorway of the boot maker. “I don’t know what to say, dear.
I’ve no idea what happened.”

Nor did Olivia, but neither would she reveal
to Louisa what had transpired last night. Her humiliation over
trusting Jasper was more than she could admit to herself.

But it didn’t make sense! He hadn’t ever lied
to her, and she didn’t think he’d started last night. Not after
what they’d shared. And not when he’d felt so terrible about
compromising her virtue in the first place.

“I’m all right, Louisa.” She wasn’t, but she
was trying to be. There had to be an explanation. If there wasn’t,
she was glad she’d left her valise half packed.

JASPER drummed his fingers on the mantle in
the drawing room of Herrick House while awaiting the arrival of the
earl. This was going to be a very distasteful meeting.

Lord Herrick entered. He was a tall, lean man
with thick, dark hair and a stoic demeanor. Where Lady Philippa was
charming and witty, her father was colorless and serious.

“Good of you to save me the trouble of
calling on you this morning, Saxton. I received your note early
this morning and saw the
Times
, but since when are you
betrothed to my daughter?”

He opened his mouth, but before he could
speak, Lady Philippa swept into the room. “Since never,” she said.
“Lord Saxton proposed, but I declined. What I should like to know
is how the ‘news’ came to be in the paper.”

Jasper wouldn’t dispute her story. It was the
best way for her to retain her sparkling reputation. He couldn’t
fault her a bit for coming up with it. “It appears to be a
misprint, Lady Philippa. Perhaps a rumor gone amok. I deeply regret
its consequences.”

Lord Herrick had stood quietly watching their
exchange, but now he spoke up quite furiously. “This is a disaster.
Philippa’s marital prospects will be ruined.” He directed his dark
gaze on his daughter. “Philippa, you’ll marry him anyway.”

“Absolutely not. I’ve no wish to marry him.”
She elevated her chin, and Jasper couldn’t tell if she spoke the
truth or not. He deeply regretted disappointing her if she’d hoped
for a proposal.

Her father glowered. “Think of your
reputation.”

“I’d rather think of my future happiness.”
She speared her father with a rather pointed stare that Jasper
found curious. “I’ve decided we will not suit.” She turned her
attention to Jasper. “My lord, will the
Times
print a
retraction stating the news was false?”

“I’m confident they will. I’ll do everything
in my power to lessen any impact upon you.”

She gave a slight nod, but it was enough for
Jasper to conclude she was not unhappy. “Then it’s settled. I shall
expect you to manage the gossip to your best ability.”

“I appreciate your understanding. Again, I
apologize for this grave error. I truly have no idea how it
could’ve occurred.”

She nodded, and Jasper took that as a
conclusion to the interview. He bowed to her and to Lord Herrick
and left, relief quickening his step.

That had gone far better than he’d imagined.
Now, if only his meeting with the duke would end so well.

OLIVIA followed Louisa up the stairs to
Jasper’s townhouse. Her nerves were on edge; she wasn’t at all
certain she wanted to see Jasper. She was too afraid of what he
might say. That last night had been a dream, or worse, a lie.

Louisa, however, insisted the columnist who’d
reported the engagement had erred, and she intended to question
Jasper about it immediately.

Jasper’s butler admitted them into the
cavernous marble entry. It was easily twice as large as Louisa’s.
“Good morning, Lady Merriweather, Miss West. Lord Saxton is
currently out. Would you care to join His Grace in the drawing
room?”

Louisa’s brows shot up. “His Grace is
here?”

“Indeed,” the butler said. “He’s been waiting
half an hour, though I informed him I didn’t know when Lord Saxton
would return.”

Louisa turned to Olivia. “This is a bit
curious. Yes, Thurber, we’ll wait with my brother.”

They followed the butler straight through the
entry to the drawing room. The duke stood upon their arrival. He’d
clearly been drinking tea—it looked as though he’d been here
awhile.

He smiled at them, or at least Olivia
surmised it was supposed to be a smile. His lips pulled back, but
his frosty gaze just didn’t match the expression. “Louisa, Miss
West.”

“Holborn, what are you doing here? I can’t
recall the last time you visited Saxton at this hour of the day,
let alone
waited
for him.”

“Surely you saw the
Times
this
morning?” he asked.

“Actually, no. We had an early appointment,
and I planned to read the paper at luncheon.”

“And here I assumed you’d come to
congratulate Jasper on his betrothal to Lady Philippa.”

Olivia’s knees weakened, but she managed to
stay standing. Louisa touched her arm.

“I’m here to discuss specifics with Saxton,”
the duke continued.

“I see,” Louisa murmured. She cast an
apologetic glance at Olivia, but it seemed to mask another
emotion—anger perhaps. Her bright blue eyes flashed. “When do you
expect this blessed event to take place?”

“By the end of October, I should
imagine.”

“Pity. Olivia and I had planned to travel to
York for the autumn. I suppose we could return for the wedding.”
She gave Olivia’s arm a squeeze.

“I should hope so. You and Saxton are quite
close, and of course, you’re both more than welcome.” He attempted
the grotesque semblance of a smile again.

There was something most suspicious about his
behavior. He’d never treated Olivia with anything bordering
kindness, let alone civility. Most often, he made rude comments and
cast her disparaging looks. Why was he attempting to be pleasant
now? Was it because his son was marrying the woman he’d
selected?

“Well, we needn’t stay, dear,” Louisa said.
“Clearly Saxton has business this morning.” They turned to go, but
the duke stopped them.

“Is there something I can tell Saxton for
you? The reason for your visit, perhaps?”

Louisa turned her head and gave him a cool
smile. “No, thank you, Holborn.”

They walked toward the door and had to stop
short as Jasper stood at the threshold. His gaze softened when he
looked at Olivia, and again her knees threatened to give way.

“Pardon us, Saxton.” Louisa’s tone dripped
frost. “We understand you and Holborn are discussing wedding
details this morning.”

Jasper’s brow arched, and he looked past them
at the duke. “Indeed? I had no knowledge of such an appointment. If
I had, I would have been saved the journey to Holborn House this
morning.” He glanced at Olivia and gave her a mischievous wink.
What was he up to? “I regret to inform you, Holborn, that I will
not be marrying Lady Philippa. As it happens, she has no desire to
marry me.”

JASPER WATCHED the play of emotions over
Olivia’s face. With her back to the duke, she let everything
show—anger, surprise, and now suspicion. He wanted to tell her that
the announcement was entirely Holborn’s doing—and he would—but he’d
already reasoned that it was easiest and best for everyone if he
allowed Holborn to believe what Philippa had told her father: that
she’d refused Jasper.

There would be time enough for him to accept
Jasper’s marrying Olivia, which would now have to happen in the
quiet of York or somewhere equally distant from London in order to
preserve Philippa’s reputation. He didn’t think Olivia would mind.
In fact, he rather thought she’d prefer a wedding outside the
spectacle of Society. He knew he would. His pulse raced at the
thought. He wanted to leave with her today.

Holborn strode toward him with fury etched in
his features. Olivia and Louisa moved to the side. “Did she refuse
you because of your behavior last night? I can’t believe you hit
someone in the middle of a ball. Did I raise an animal?”

Olivia stepped forward. “It was my
understanding, Your Grace, that Saxton was protecting Lady
Philippa’s honor. Surely you can’t find fault with that.”

Jasper tried not to let his mouth hang open.
Given what Olivia knew at this moment—that Jasper had planned to
marry Philippa while he was making love to and proposing to
her
—he couldn’t believe she was defending him. And defending
his violence! He ached to wrap her in his arms and declare his
unworthiness.

“I can, and I do find fault.” He glowered at
her a moment before turning his anger on Jasper. “We had an
agreement.”

“Yes, and I met my side of the bargain. I
can’t force Lady Philippa to do anything she doesn’t wish.” And
because he couldn’t resist the taunt, he added, “Would you have
wanted me to compromise her as publicly as possible?”

Olivia sucked in a breath, and Jasper
regretted saying it. He was going to have a job convincing her he
wasn’t the greatest ass in England.

“I wanted you to honor our agreement. You
give me no choice.”

Jasper’s patience fled. He advanced on
Holborn until they stood nearly nose to nose. “You gave
me
no choice, and now, through no fault of my own, I’m going to make
my choice. There will be no marriage with Lady Philippa.”

The duke stared up at him—Jasper had a solid
two inches over the man—in mute fury. The muscles in his jaw worked
while his gaze cast a chill that could likely be felt in
Sussex.

“Are you going to marry that chit?” He jerked
his head toward Olivia.

Jasper’s blood sang. “I am.”

“You ruin the title.”

“No, I enhance it,” Jasper spat with glee.
“Just as you taught me to do. I don’t expect this to soften you
toward her, but Merry was her father. She possesses noble blood and
will execute the duties of countess—and duchess when the time
comes—with poise and grace.” He leaned forward slightly, forcing
the duke to tip his head back. “You will leave her alone, and that
is the end of it.”

Jasper stepped away and allowed himself to
look at Olivia and his aunt. Louisa brushed a hand beneath her eye,
and Olivia stared at him, wide-eyed.

Thurber stepped into the drawing room. “My
lord, Lord Sevrin and his…friends are here to see you.”

Sevrin didn’t wait to be invited. He moved
past Thurber followed by Hopkins and a half dozen other men from
the club. Sevrin took in the other occupants of the room and arched
a brow. “It’s a party here this morning.”

Jasper arched a brow, bemused as to their
presence. “So it would seem.”

“We saw the
Times
,” Sevrin said. “It
was evident you needed help figuring things out.” The group of men
surged forward, and Jasper schooled himself not to laugh. They were
going to beat him into marrying Olivia? How he loved that club. How
was he ever going to convince Olivia that he needed it?

“I was just explaining to the duke that Lady
Philippa has chosen not to marry me.” He gave Sevrin a very slight
nod trying to silently communicate that this fact should not be
disputed. “I was also explaining that I’ll be marrying Miss
West.”

The men relaxed. A few clapped each other on
the back and grinned. Sevrin laughed softly. “Our work here is done
then.”

“What the hell is all of this?” The duke
demanded.

“Just a group of friends.”

The duke’s lip curled. “‘Friends’? This
lot?”

“We came to ensure his welfare,” Sevrin said.
“And that of his bride. We would hate to hear anything scandalous
about her, or see anything unfortunate befall her.”

“Indeed,” Hopkins said while flexing and
unflexing his hand. The rest of the men moved slightly forward
again, their expressions turning serious—and determined.

Jasper looked at the duke. His expression had
slipped, revealing a flash of concern. He quickly veiled it beneath
his mask of disapproval. “You think to intimidate me?” he asked
Jasper.

Jasper gestured toward his fighting brothers.
“Not me, them. I did not invite them this morning, though they are
most welcome.”

“You really will ruin the title.”