But the sound of footsteps behind her broke the fragile peace.
Without turning, she spoke, her voice tight but steady. “I asked for a moment, please.”
Matilda pressed her lips tight, keeping her gaze fixed upon the dark sweep of garden beyond the balustrade.
“Evelyn,” she said, softer this time, willing herself to sound composed. “I promise I am quite well. Go back inside. You will be missed.”
No answer came. Only silence.
Her hands tightened on the stone rail. “Hazel, then? You need not fuss over me. Truly, I only wanted the air.”
Still no reply. The quiet grew heavier, the kind that made her skin prickle. Slowly, against her better judgment, she turned.
Not Evelyn. Not Hazel.
“I did not have any intention of following you, Lady Matilda,” Jasper began, his voice strangely low and steady, almost gentle. “But you seemed… upset. I did not mean to upset you.”
Her grey eyes snapped toward him, anger flashing bright and fierce. “Oh no?” she said, incredulous. “Then what, pray, do you call every single instance of our conversation but upsetting meand enjoying it?”
Jasper froze, caught off guard by the force of her question, his usual calm wavering for the barest instant.
“Why?” she pressed, taking a step closer. “Why are you targeting me like this?”
He hesitated, then admitted, almost reluctantly. “Because… I dislike how you have judged me from the very first moment we met, without even knowing me.”
She scoffed, turning her chin up as though dismissing the claim entirely. “I knewofyou, and that was more than enough.”
His grin widened, mischievous but pointed. “See?” he said. “You have done precisely what you fear the ton would do to you. Allowed gossip, surface observations, the reputation you’ve been handed to shape your understanding of someone, rather than experience them yourself.”
Matilda froze, her breath catching.He is right.She had loathed to admit it, yet every word rang true, cutting deeper than she liked to acknowledge.
Her fists clenched lightly at her sides, though her eyes betrayed her discomposure. She had spent so long shielding herselffrom disappointment, from manipulation, from being misled by appearances and now he had pierced that shield with nothing more than a grin and a statement of fact.
Her fingers curled tight upon the railing. “You presume to know me, Your Grace, when in fact you know nothing at all.”
“On the contrary,” he said, with a calmness that only sharpened her fury, “I know more than you believe. I know that just because one man took advantage of your trust does not mean every man is poised to do the same. Not everyone is out to wound you.”
She spun to face him then, her grey eyes flashing. “How very noble of you to declare it so. As if your words could erase years of deceit. As ifyou, who delights in tormenting me, should hold the authority to lecture me on trust.”
His mouth curved, a dangerous smile. “Delight is rather the word, I think. You are… spirited when provoked.”
“You mistake spirit for irritation.”
“Call it what you will.” He lifted a brow, all infuriating composure. “But it draws you out of your fortress. I find I prefer you this way.”
Her breath caught, though she tried to disguise it in scorn. “And how, pray, do you imagine you have come to know me at all? Through your endless jests? Through every cutting remark and pointed jab?”
He gave a half-shrug, unrepentant. “That is how I function. You parry, I press. We discover what lies beneath the armor.”
“Incredible,” she scoffed. “You would make sport of me, then pretend it is some noble pursuit of truth.”
“I never pretended,” he said softly, and in that tone there was no mockery at all.
The shift unsettled her more than the teasing had. His blue eyes gleamed in the moonlight, unwavering, and for a moment she felt entirely seen. It was intolerable.
“You think yourself clever,” she whispered, anger threading her voice, “but I am not a puzzle for you to solve. I am not a game to be played.”
“And yet,” Jasper murmured, stepping closer still, until the heat of him reached her through the cool air, “you rise to every move I make.”
