And yet, as he wiped the sweat from his brow, he could not banish the image of her stormy grey eyes, condemning him as though her judgment alone might damn him forever.
By the time the cousins left the boxing room and made their way toward Mason’s townhouse, Jasper’s mood had settled into that peculiar mix of irritation and amusement which only Mason could inspire. He had agreed, albeit reluctantly and most reluctantly so, to call on Cordelia right then and there, and offer an apology.
That she would forgive him, he never doubted. That he should have to offer the apology at all still rankled.
“Mind you,” Mason said as they mounted the steps, “a touch of humility never killed a man.”
Jasper arched a brow. “Is that so? Then pray explain why so many husbands shuffle about like ghosts of themselves.”
Mason only laughed, and Jasper was obliged to follow him into the familiar drawing room.
Cordelia rose from her seat at once, her expression gracious as ever. “Your Grace,” she said, inclining her head, though her eyes glimmered with gentle reproach.
Jasper bowed with a flourish, masking his discomfort. “My dearest lady, I come to abase myself before you. My presence in your library was most unworthy, my company less so, and I beg you accept my sincerest apologies for both.”
Cordelia’s lips curved, betraying her amusement despite herself. “You do have a gift for turning contrition into performance, Jasper.”
“Better performance than scandal,” he returned smoothly.
Before Cordelia could reply, a rustle of skirts drew his attention and his steps faltered. Matilda stood near the window, her grey eyes fixed upon him with the wary sharpness of a hawk.
Of course she would be here. Where else but the very place he had no desire to meet her?
“Lady Matilda,” he said with a curt nod.
“Your Grace.” Her voice was cool enough to frost the glass beside her.
Mason, devil that he was, made no move to ease the tension, only sat down with the air of a man well entertained.
Cordelia, ever the diplomat, tried to smooth matters. “You see, Matilda, Jasper was just making his apology to me. Isn’t that nice of him?”
“Indeed?” Matilda’s brows rose. “A pity it does not extend to the other half of the library’s witnesses.”
Jasper let out a short laugh, tilting his head. “Would you prefer a personal apology, Lady Matilda? I warn you, mine come as rare as diamonds and are just as dearly bought.”
Her chin lifted. “Then do not trouble yourself, Your Grace. I should hate to see you impoverished.”
Mason chuckled under his breath, Cordelia shot him a quelling glance, and despite himself, Jasper felt the faint tug of a smile. She had a tongue as sharp as any he had met, and for all her disdain, it roused in him a most inconvenient sense of admiration.
“Then we are agreed,” he said lightly, bowing again. “No apologies owed, none accepted. How perfectly balanced.”
Mason cleared his throat with the authority of a magistrate passing judgment. “Well then, Jasper has apologized, Cordelia is satisfied, Matilda’s honor remains intact… splendid! That isquite enough for one morning. Jasper, come along to the study. Let the ladies enjoy themselves.”
Jasper arched a brow. “By enjoy, you mean gossip, I presume.”
Matilda’s grey eyes flashed. “That is not all ladies do, Your Grace.”
He turned his head toward her, lips quirking into that half-smile which so often provoked rather than soothed. “Is that so? Then pray enlighten me, what do ladies do, when they are not sharpening their tongues on absent friends?”
Her answer came quick, steady, and wholly unexpected. “We notice. We remember. And sometimes, we forgive far more than we ought.”
Jasper stilled, the retort caught on his tongue. The words, simple as they were, held a depth that unsettled him. He had been prepared for a prim lecture, not for the kind of truth that pressed directly against his ribs. For the briefest instant, the noise of the room fell away, leaving only the unflinching clarity of her gaze.
Mason tugged at his sleeve then, breaking the moment. “Come, cousin, before you begin another duel with words. My study awaits.”
With deliberate ease, Jasper inclined his head to both ladies, masking the faint curl of interest stirring in his chest. He letMason steer him out, though his mind lingered behind, circling back to Matilda’s answer.
He had meant only to provoke her, to amuse himself with her indignation. Yet she had disarmed him with a single remark, intriguing him beyond measure.
