“Then why not leave her in peace? She sought refuge for a reason. Have you not done enough?”
Her voice was not cruel, only weary. It was the weariness of someone who had watched too many hearts broken by men who had not understood their own power to wound.
Jasper met her gaze again, and for once there was no pretense of the rakish ease he so often wore. His expression was raw and unguarded.
“I do not want peace,” he said quietly. “Not if it comes at the cost of losing her.”
Hazel’s brow furrowed, and a flicker of surprise passed across her features.
“She thinks I cannot love,” he continued, not thinking about the words he was saying. “And perhaps she is right. Perhaps I do not know how. But she has already changed what I am. I cannot—” His breath caught, and the next words flowed more quietly, yetat the same time, more certainly. “I cannot let her believeshewas a mistake.”
Hazel regarded him for a moment that felt like an entire eternity. Then, slowly, she spoke. “If I tell you where she is, and you go to her, and she refuses to see you… will you leave her be?”
He nodded once. “If she tells me to.”
Hazel’s gaze softened. For a moment, he felt that he had touched her with his plea. “And if she does not forgive you?”
“Then I shall deserve it,” he said simply.
Silence lingered. The faint ticking of the clock filled the room.
At last, Hazel sighed. “You are a very difficult man to dislike, Your Grace. It is most inconvenient.”
“I assure you, many have managed it admirably,” he said dryly.
That earned the faintest glimmer of a smile from her, though it faded quickly. “You are stubborn,” she pointed out, “and reckless. But I believe, perhaps, not entirely hopeless.”
Jasper straightened. “Then you’ll tell me?”
Hazel hesitated one last time, then turned to the small escritoire beside her. She opened a drawer, took out a folded piece of paper, and held it toward him.
“I swore I would not interfere again,” she revealed. “But if you truly mean what you say, if your purpose is to mend and not to claim, then this is the place.”
He took it carefully, his fingers brushing hers. “Thank you.”
Hazel’s voice softened. “Do not thank me. Thankher… if she lets you.”
He inclined his head, then turned toward the door. But before he reached it, Hazel spoke again.
“Your Grace.”
He looked back.
“When you see her,” she said quietly, “do not speak to her of honor or duty. Speak to her as a man, not a duke. That is all she ever wanted.”
Jasper bowed once, and now, there was the faintest shadow of a smile at his lips. “Then I will do my best to be only that.”
And with that, he left, stepping out into the grey London dusk, with the paper warm in his palm, not with hope, but with resolve.
He would find her. Whatever it cost, hewouldfind her.
Chapter Forty-One
The morning sun streamed through the chapel windows, pale and golden, spilling across the stone floor like light through water.
Sister Agnes adjusted the white veil at Matilda’s shoulders and asked softly. “You are certain, my dear? You may wait another day, if your heart feels unsettled.”
Matilda’s lips curved in a faint, steady smile. “My heart has been unsettled all my life, Sister. I should not know what to do if it were calm.”
