Page 9 of Only Earl in the World (Taming of the Dukes)

“Brother!” Vesper shrieked, making both Greydon and their father wince where they sat on the other side of the table on the outdoor patio during a late Saturday breakfast.

Jasper’s brows rose as his sister barreled toward them with some single-minded purpose.

The baby in her arms gave a loud wail, the hapless nurse following in their wake.

Vesper held crumpled newssheets in her free hand, waving them with a giddy fervor that made his eyes narrow.

Her eyes held an exhilarated glint he hadn’t seen in a while.

Oh, no. He knew that look. It was her matchmaking look.

He’d only escaped from her attempts to match him with several heiresses in the ton because he’d put his foot down years ago. But clearly that understanding was at an end.

This was about Penelope, he surmised. Ever since the ball, Vesper had gotten a bee in her bonnet that it was up to her to set him on the right course for a wife. That being anyone but the woman he’d selected.

“I think you meant husband , not brother,” he said, pointing obsequiously at his brother-in-law. “He’s the one you should seek out on all matters, including whatever tomfooleries you’ve concocted in that head of yours.”

Ignoring him, she shoved the newssheets onto the table and jammed her finger toward a small, printed section on the left side.

“Here is your chance to make things right. This is kismet. Fate . Now you only need to do something about it.” Her entire body fairly vibrated with zeal.

“And if you do not follow through with this, I shall make it my personal goal to make your life a living hell— that I promise you. Stop staring at me like a simpleton and read, for the love of everything holy!”

Blinking at the unexpected diatribe, Jasper grasped the newspaper and skimmed the announcement in the Times of the engagement of one Viscount Sackley to Lady Penelope Adler.

Jasper read it again, curiously feeling nothing at the latter name…the woman he had been dutifully courting for the past few weeks. Shouldn’t he feel upset? Or angry? This was almost as bad as being jilted at the altar, especially when their courtship had been so public.

Everyone expected them to marry.

But no, all he felt was mild surprise, and then a shocking, perilous sense of relief. Had Briar cried off her engagement to the viscount?

“Has she said anything to you?” he asked his sister, currently soothing her grumpy daughter, who had been rudely awakened by her mama’s antics.

Audra was the perfect mix of both her parents and adored by everyone.

A smile feathered over his lips at the infant’s owlish hoots when Vesper kissed her downy forehead—the babe was beautiful and growing plumper every single day after an uncertain, frightening start.

Jasper could not remember loving being a doting uncle more.

Those little hoots could melt the hardest heart.

Vesper shook her head. “Trust me, it’s as much a surprise to me as it is to you or anyone.

Though I must say those two moist dishrags are better suited to each other.

Viscount Sackless would have made our Briar miserable.

And we all know that Penelope has the personality of a doornail. ” She made a face. “No offense.”

Jasper took a sip of his coffee, hoping the benign action would calm his suddenly thundering pulse.

“None taken. But this doesn’t mean that Lady Briar wants me to court her.

She doesn’t even think of me in that way, no matter what your inventive little mind says or how much you desire her as a sister-in-law.

You know very well that we are like oil and water, and never the twain shall mix. ”

“Hate and love are the two sides of the same coin,” Vesper said sagely.

“I don’t hate her,” he murmured.

Her gaze sharpened and then narrowed with resolve.

“And don’t think I’m oblivious to the fact that she visits Lethe far more often than is proper.

She’s much too secretive about the goings-on there, when in truth, she should not have a membership as an unmarried lady. Her reputation would be in jeopardy.”

Knowing his sister’s talent to filch information from anywhere, Jasper sealed his lips.

While he supported Briar’s commendable efforts to help downtrodden women, it was not his place to divulge her private business.

If she chose to reveal her charitable efforts to her friends, that was her choice.

He pasted a blank mask on his face. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.

While we do welcome selective female members at Lethe, I do not know if she’s a member or not. ”

“You know every person who has a membership, Jasper! It’s your club!

” If his sister’s voice rose any further, it would crack crystal.

Unsurprisingly, the babe in her arms startled and started to whimper again.

“Now look at what you made me do,” she groused as Greydon rose to scoop the fussing baby from her and soothe the infant against his shoulder.

Jasper squashed any reply after a sidelong glance from Greydon and a slight shake of his head.

There was no reasoning with his sibling when she was in one of her moods.

The display of mania and melancholy, according to their doctor—a revolutionary female doctor named Elizabeth Garrett—was common in some women weeks, months, and even years after giving birth.

Given the trauma and despair that she’d endured after the arrival of Audra, they were all a little more careful with Vesper.

On top of her unique cognition, it had to be managed very carefully, as it was a cyclical disorder that could spiral quickly.

Melancholia or puerperal insanity, as it was also called, was typically caused by mental distress.

The treatment from Dr. Garrett included a healthy diet, rest, unlimited compassion, and plentiful help.

She was adamantly against extremes like bloodletting or incarceration.

Thankfully, Greydon was a very devoted, hands-on father and worshipped the ground his wife walked on, for which both Jasper and their father were grateful.

Jasper exhaled and counted to ten in his head.

“Yes, you’re correct, but I am also well versed in Lethe’s strict confidentiality rules,” he replied in a mild tone.

Finishing his coffee, he stood and cleared his throat, canting his head to both men.

“Father, please excuse me. Greydon, good to see you. Sister, I shall take your advice under consideration.” He meant to do no such thing, but placating Vesper was always the priority.

Mollified, she stared at him, uncertainty flashing in her blue eyes. “Good. Thank you, Jasper. I only want what’s best for you, you know? I hope for you to find the kind of happiness as I have with Aspen. You deserve that.”

It was on the tip of his tongue to respond that their kind of happiness was rare, and certainly not in the cards for him, but that wasn’t what his well-intentioned sister wanted to hear.

“I know,” he said, kissing her cheek. “Be sure to get some rest today.”

As Jasper took his leave back to his own bachelor residence in St. James to gather his accounting ledgers before heading to Lethe, he wondered what had happened for Briar to break the engagement.

From their conversation, she had seemed quite set on having the viscount for a husband. She thought he was perfect , after all.

As much as Jasper didn’t like the man, he wasn’t the one marrying him.

The fact that the new engagement was to Lady Penelope had no real bearing on his opinions, though he did wonder at the appeal of such a man to someone like Penelope who had high hopes to make an excellent match that would please her mother.

Heir to a dukedom, Jasper was considered one of the most eligible bachelors in London; the viscount was not.

That rubbed a bit.

Jasper frowned, his temper suddenly simmering. Who did Sackley think he was? Surely the man would have known that the lady was spoken for. Wasn’t there some sort of gentlemanly code of conduct when it came to courtship and coveting another man’s future wife?

More importantly, should he be worried that Penelope had had such a late change of heart, considering she knew of his intentions?

The official announcement hadn’t happened after the ball—the timing had felt off for reasons Jasper couldn’t explain—but that didn’t mean it wasn’t forthcoming.

These announcements were mere formalities.

And in truth, he’d hoped to ask Penelope if this was truly what she wanted before any formal declaration was made.

It was something Briar had said in Seven Dials about the duty of aristocratic heiresses, and the underlying despair in her tone had made him pause.

But then, that damned ball had thrown him wildly off-balance.

It’d felt like they were saying goodbye, and he couldn’t bear that.

Caught in an odd funk that appeared out of nowhere, Jasper arrived at Lethe and went straight to his office, not noticing that someone was occupying the chair in front of his desk until he’d divested himself of his outer garments and sat down.

He jumped at the sight of the woman who let out a low laugh at his disconcerted expression.

“Distracted, my lord?” she asked.

“Minthe, what are you doing here?” he asked the former courtesan turned bookkeeper.

She was one of Briar’s charges—a woman who’d been down on her luck and lost her position at a high-end brothel when she’d had to take care of a sick relative.

Minthe had been hired as a server in the card rooms at Lethe, whereupon Jasper had discovered she had an uncommon talent with numbers.

Within short order, he’d promoted her to assistant bookkeeper of the entire club without batting an eyelash.

“I do need to go over some expenses with you, but were you waiting for me?”

“There’s a problem,” she said, her voice low.

He frowned. “What is it?”