Her screech confirmed his worst fears.
“Papa?!”
Jasmine tumbled off Matthew’s lap, twisting up and landing on the floor. Pulse pounding, Matthew stood so quickly his head hit the domed ceiling. Blood drained from his face, and he turned to his futurefather-in-law.
Lord Dorchester stood with arms crossed. His pale skin glowed in the dim light. His thin grey eyebrows formed a flat line. Jasmine scrambled to her feet. Her shaking hands smoothed her dress into place. Matthew dropped into thedeepestbow, so low he almost fell to the floor. Speechless and immobile, he waited.
An irritated sigh sounded from Lord Dorchester. “Jasmine, go to your room. Donotlet your mother—or anyoneelse—see you. And for God’s sake, put your clothes on.”
Keeping his eyes trained on the floor, Matthew saw one of Jasmine’s legs disappear into her stockings, then the other. After she donned her slippers, she fled from the room.
“Rise, Lord Lincolnshire.” Matthew rose to meet Lord Dorchester’s arresting stare. “Come to my study. You and I are about to have alongtalk.”
Lord Dorchester’s study used to be a place of refuge and intrigue. As a boy, he played under the mahogany desk. Later, once he had grown, he borrowed books and listened to conversations concerning history, politics, and ethics. When he lost his father and became a lord overnight—adrift, confused, and crushed under pressure—he cameherefor guidance.
Lamps lit the corners of an expansive room where bookshelves covered every wall. Shelves between the windows allowed for even more volumes. It smelled of leather, ink, and aged parchment.
When Matthew considered what a man should be, he thought of his own father, and this man. The Marquess of Dorchester.Uncle Edward.It feltwrongto call him that now. Matthew lost the right to address him with such familiarity.
Matthew’s words spilled out. “I must apologize for my behavior tonight, my lord. This is theverylast thing that I wanted to happen. Iwasreckless. I disrespected youandJasmine—LadyJasmine. Whatever I can do to make it right—”
“Enough.” Lord Dorchester cut him off. “I was young once, Lord Lincolnshire. I know the affections you harbor for my daughter. Until tonight I hadn’t realized that those affections were reciprocated.” He paused. “In fact, I had never seen her more disinterested in a man.”
“I’m still not sure of her affections,” Matthew admitted.
“They seemed rather clear tonight.”
Lord Dorchester moved to his liquor cabinet and pulled out a crystal decanter. “Brandy?”
Matthew shook his head. “I don’t think I should drink anything else, my lord.”
“Wise decision. I’ll drink yours, then.” Lord Dorchester filled a glass and took a long drink. He sank into his chair and gestured to the chair across from him. “Sit.”
Matthew did as he was told and remained silent.
“You were raised to act with intention. Which leads me to believe youintendedto compromise my daughter tonight. Now, you’re going to tell me why.”
Already caught, Matthew confessed, “I didn’t think I had another choice. I wasn’t on Lady Dorchester’s list.” His voice broke. “She didn’t want me to marry Jasmine. She wouldn’t even let me speak with her. I thought—”
“You thought that by publicly scandalizing my daughter, you could go around my wife?” Lord Dorchester raised a quizzing glass to his eye. “Andme?”
Matthew winced. “It was foolish.”
“And Jasmine? What was her role in this?”
“She asked me to marry her. And that last bit—that is, the part yousaw—” Matthew swallowed hard and laid blame where it was due. “That was her idea.”
“I’m not surprised.” Lord Dorchester sighed. “I told Valentine that forcing Jasmine into a corner was the wrong move. My daughter is impulsive—it’s a miracle this is herfirstscandal.”
Matthew remained silent.
Lord Dorchester asked quietly, “Do you love each other?”
“She doesn’t love me.” Matthew lowered his head. “She asked for a marriage of convenience.”
“Does she know you love her?” Lord Dorchester’s eyes were gentle, and Matthew wished for his anger instead of hispity. “Is that why…?”
“No.” With that small confession, Matthew’s throat dried, and he wanted to cry. “I think she felt trapped.” He looked at Lord Dorchester. “Did you give Lord Rothwell or Don Lorenzo permission to propose?”
