They walked together toward the waiting carriage in silence, the distance between them full of everything that might have been said and everything that now never would be.
Chapter Thirty-Six
From the moment the christening ended, Jasper had scarcely been able to take his eyes off her.
Matilda moved through the crowd with grace so effortless it seemed to mock him. Every time he thought she might look his way, she didn’t. Every time he thought she might speak, she found someone else to attend to. Her composure was flawless, her smile polite and her tone warm enough to deceive anyone who didn’t know her.
But Jasperdidknow her, at least a little. He knew her enough to recognize the precision with which she could build a wall no man could climb. And today, those walls were unbreachable.
She was cold, yes, but not cruel. She simply treated him as though the garden, the rain, and the kiss that had nearly undone him had never happened at all.
It should have been a relief. He had told himself so more than once during the long ceremony of the very sort of holy occasion he had no business attending, let alone tarnishing with thoughts as unholy as his. But it wasn’t relief he felt. It was regret.
He had meant to speak to her. He’d looked for the moment before the service, after the blessing, during the luncheon when the guests were busy complimenting Evelyn and passing glasses of champagne. But each time, she slipped away, guided by friends or by chance or perhaps, by intent.
And really, who could blame her?
He had kissed her as though she were the air he’d been starving for, then left her with nothing but silence. What must she think of him now?
He had seen the glimmer of hurt behind her calm, though she’d hidden it well. And he had felt it himself, that sting of disappointment that came with knowing he had ruined something fragile before it ever had the chance to begin.
He had wanted to tell her so many things: that she was remarkable, hat she had been wrong all her life to think herself unloved or unwanted, that she deserved laughter, a home filled with warmth, children, peace, that she deserved to be cherished, not cloistered away in some convent out of misplaced penance.
But what right had he to say any of that?
He would only ruin her. He, who could not trust his own heart, who had been raised to mistake affection for weakness and love for a kind of pain. He doubted he even knew what love truly was.
No. Better she despised him now or forgot him altogether. Better she thought him cold than learn how broken he truly was.
And yet, when he saw her smile across the lawn, his resolve faltered. When she turned her head, his breath caught as though he were still sixteen and foolish enough to dream. She avoided him at very turn, and still, he couldn’t stop seeking her out that afternoon or that evening.
The great hall of Aberon House glowed with candlelight. Crystal chandeliers shimmered overhead, their reflections caught in the gilt mirrors that lined the walls. Music rose and fell in graceful waves, while violins and flutes weaved through the murmur of voices and the rustle of gowns. It was the perfect celebration.
Jasper stood near the edge of it all, with one hand resting on the back of a chair. His glass of champagne, however, was untouched. He had spent the better part of the evening trying not to look at her.
It was useless.
Every time he turned his head, his gaze found her surrounded by her friends. The pale lavender of her gown caught the light with each breath she drew, and the faint silver embroidery traced her figure in a way that was elegant without the slightest impropriety. He could see her laughing at something Cordeliasaid, while the fan in her hand moved with delicate precision, like the hands of a clock.
He thought of the woman he had kissed among the roses and wondered if he had only imagined her. And now, seeing her in that ballroom, so beautiful and untouchable, he knew with brutal clarity that he could not let her go without a word. He straightened, set his glass aside, and crossed the room. Conversation dimmed a little as he passed. Men nodded respectfully, while women’s glances followed him. He ignored them all. His gaze never lefther.
Cordelia saw him first. Evelyn smiled too, though more gently, and Hazel looked as though she already disapproved of whatever he meant to do. Matilda saw him last. The moment her eyes met his, her fan stilled. Her expression remained calm, but he saw the faint tension in her throat.
He stopped before her and bowed. “Lady Matilda.”
“Your Grace,” she said, offering him a smile that was too perfect to be real.
He inclined his head. “You look utterly breathtaking this evening.”
She gave a faint nod. “You are kind to say so.”
Her friends pretended to busy themselves with their glasses, though every one of them was listening. Jasper hesitated only amoment before extending his hand. “Will you do me the honor of this dance?”
Matilda’s eyes flicked to his hand, then back to his face. “I believe I have sat out most of the evening.”
“Then it is time you joined it.”
“I am rather tired.”
