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Jasper had no intention of paying a call the following afternoon. He had never sat in a ladies’ parlor over tea and cakes

in his life. There was no need to start now, and he’d fully meant it when he’d told Althea precisely that.

But then she’d smiled at him, in that impish way she had of looking up at him through her lashes, as she’d buttoned up his

waistcoat before dawn. “Fine. I’m sure Captain Summerhayes won’t mind your absence.”

Which was the very reason he was standing on the step outside of Countess Broadbent’s townhouse.

He blew out a hard breath that puffed his cheeks, then knocked.

In short order, the butler opened the door and escorted him to the parlor. Through the archway, he saw Althea and the countess

sitting amidst the upholstered furniture and a sea of hothouse flowers, chatting amiably with Summerhayes.

In the instant before he was announced, he thought of how much better the captain fit into her life. After all, Summerhayes

was well established. The men of the ton admired him. He had wealth and status. Jasper had nothing.

Even if his plans proved successful, and he regained control over his own land, what would he have to offer her? A plot of

earth where a house had once stood? Would they live in his flat with the boy and the dog and Ansonby? Or in a room at the

tavern?

She’d talked about a dowry, about a cottage and a happy life, but there was no guarantee. She’d talked about love surmounting any obstacle. He wanted to believe her, but that was harder now when he had so much more to lose.

“Viscount St. James,” the butler announced.

Body tense, Jasper nearly tripped on the way inside. And it wasn’t on purpose.

Were his feet always this large? Then he looked down at his boot, belatedly remembering Garmr’s teeth marks. Bloody hell.

“Countess Broadbent,” he said with a bow, and if she noticed he no longer spoke with a lisp or a higher-pitched voice, she

revealed nothing in her countenance. Then he handed her the violets he’d purchased.

Accepting them, she inclined her head. “You are welcome here, St. James.”

He turned to greet Althea, and she did him no favors by unleashing that heart-stopping smile. He nearly forgot his own name,

let alone the flowers he was holding for her.

“Are those for me?” she asked impishly.

Just like the first time, he awkwardly thrust them forward. But she was better prepared and even brushed her fingers against

his.

After gathering his composure, he turned to Summerhayes in acknowledgment.

He was glad that there was no posturing and that their handshake was firm and genuine. And as they exchanged a few pleasantries,

he could say that everything he’d heard about the captain being an agreeable fellow was correct.

Then tea arrived. And the cups were small. Quite small.

He already felt ungainly and unkempt in his baggy coat. To make matters worse, he accidentally snapped off the handle of the teacup when he pinched it between his thumb and forefinger. He darted a glance around the room, hoping no one saw. Then he surreptitiously slid the handle into his pocket.

Having no practice at making small talk, his answers to questions were limited to one or two words, just enough to deliver

information and no more.

Summerhayes, however, excelled at carrying a conversation and redirecting his responses to include everyone. It was clear

that the captain was better than him at everything.

Well, after last night, perhaps not everything .

An urgent knocking sounded from the front of the house. For a moment, Jasper wondered if a siege of new callers had arrived,

each gentleman better suited than he.

But he was surprised to see Barrett appear in the doorway, hard-eyed and out of breath.

Jasper stood at once. He knew that look. Something had happened.

Althea crossed the parlor, deftly removing the untended teacup and saucer from his hand as he joined Barrett in the corridor.

“It’s Tempest,” Barrett said in a low voice. “A missive arrived, supposedly from the doctor about the medicine for your aunt.

He didn’t have time to make the drive to Lady Deardorff’s and asked to meet Tempest at the house. But it wasn’t the doctor.

It was—”

“Redcliffe,” Jasper growled, fury and dread roiling inside of him. “What has he done?”

“Not the worst,” he assured. “At least, that’s what Tempest says. And I believe her. Roly saw a fancy carriage with a gold

crest when he was out playing with the dog. I had him describe the crest and I rode off at once. There wasn’t time. There

couldn’t have been. And she gave back as good as she got. I found her crouched in the corner armed with a fire poker. There

was blood on it.” He scrubbed a hand over his face and blew out a breath. “She’s safe. She’s with Nan now.”

As it sank in, only then did he see that the taunt Redcliffe delivered at his flat had been a distraction to keep Jasper focused on Althea, leaving his aunt and cousins unguarded.

Why hadn’t he seen this before it was too late? How could he have let this happen?

But he knew. He’d taken his focus off his uncle and allowed himself to be caught up in fanciful ideas about a contented life.

A future.

Fool!

“You should go to her,” Althea said, bringing him back into this moment. “Redcliffe can wait.”

He nodded. But he knew that there was only one way to truly protect his family and everyone he loved, and that was to rid

the world of his uncle.

It was something he should have done long ago.

Knowing what he must do, he allowed himself to look at Althea one last time. Allowed himself to brush an errant wisp of silken

dark hair from her cheek and tuck it behind her ear.

Her eyes flared with alarm as if she could read his thoughts.

“St. James. Think about this. Your family needs you.” She searched his gaze, her hand covering his. “I need you.”

Jasper didn’t answer. He dropped his hand, then walked away without looking back.