Matthew steeled himself and opened the door.
Aunt Valentine stormed into the room, Lord Dorchester at her heels. Scurrying behind them, a grey-haired physician carried a leather bag, breathing hard to keep pace. Aunt Valentine brushed past Matthew. Holding her skirts in her fists, she sat on the bed next to Jasmine and demanded, “Tell me everything.”
“Duke Kendall poisoned Jasmine with laudanum,” Matthew said through his teeth. “He tricked her, drugged her, put her on a bed, and offered her to me—as a gift.”
“Did he take liberties?” Aunt Valentine’s words caught. “Because if he touched her, I will kill him myself.”
“He said he didn’t, but that doesn’t mean anything.”
The physician stepped forward to peer over Jasmine.
“If she has indeed been given laudanum, there is little I can do. Had the dose been fatal, we would see more alarming signs. At this stage, smelling salts might wake her.” Then the physician said pointedly, “For all other concerns, I’ll need to examine her. If we might have a moment?”
Lord Dorchester brushed Jasmine’s hair from her face and kissed her brow. He inclined his head toward the door, and Matthew followed him into the hallway.
Even now, Lord Dorchester stood there expressionless. As if his daughter merely had a cold. Matthew wanted to throw things at him, to blame the other man for putting them in this situation, for taking a hands-off approach that only led to disaster.
“Did anyone witness this?” he asked. “Anyone at all who can corroborate your claim?”
“No one who will admit it. Perhaps a servant, but their word is useless. Plenty of witnesses saw me walking out with her. DukeKendall greeted us right at the door. The snake—he trapped me!”
“You should have sought me out, instead of taking matters into your own hands,” Lord Dorchester said.
“Leaving her wasn’t an option.”
“There are avenues for this—”
“Ineffective ones!” Matthew glared at him. “Do you know the legal punishment for assaulting a marquess’s daughter? A fine. And not even that because there’s no proof and he’s a duke.”
Lord Dorchester’s silence hung over the hallway. He ran his hand through his hair and leaned his head back against the wall.
“You separated us to teach me a lesson,” Matthew said. “So teach it to me. Tell me what I’m supposed to do, because I can’t put a round in this one’s head. So tell me—” he ground his palms into his eyes. His voice cracked. “Please, tell me what todo.”
Lord Dorchester remained silent for long moments, then he whispered, “What would you do if you were in my position?”
Matthew considered his answer.
“Let me marry her, and I can send her to Lincolnshire. I’ll keep her there, I’ll keep her safe.” Matthew’s voice broke. “Or send her back to Spain. But get her out of London. Because, if she stays, I’m afraid—”
He won’t stop.
Sir Reginald hadn’t stopped then, and Duke Kendall wouldn’t stop now. Duke Kendall had absolute immunity—he could do whatever he wanted to Matthew’s family, and there wasn’t a way to fight him. The only answer was retreat.
“If you married Jasmine, you would take her to Lincolnshire,” Lord Dorchester repeated. “Far from me and her mother? Rob her of her future as a woman of influence in this country, or another?”
“I would take her wherever necessary to keep her safe.” Matthew looked down at his hands. “But that answer depends on Jasmine. If she doesn’t want to marry me…” He swallowed hard. “I would respect her decision.”
“So you would leave her, as well?”
“If she wishes it.” Even if it meant tearing his own heart out, he would rather spend an eternity without her than see her hurt again. “I won’t blame her if she refuses me, but I’ll always love her.”
Lord Dorchester sighed.
Matthew braced for the final denial.
“Very well. I’ll speak to the Archbishop.”
Matthew’s gaze shot to him. His immediate thought spilled out of him. “Why?”
