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“Here it is,” she said, and he halted the horses in front of a modest town house.
He tied the reins off and jumped from the phaeton. Even with his haste, by the time he rounded the carriage, she had stood and was about to get down from the high seat by hrthigh seaerself.
He gripped her about the waist and looked her in the eye. “Permit me.”
He hadn’t made it a question, but she inclined her head anyway. She was a tall woman, but fine boned. His hands nearly met around her waist. He lifted her easily and felt a kind of thrill go through his body. Held above his head, she was helpless and in his power.
She looked down at him and arched an awful eyebrow, despite the fact that he could feel her trembling beneath his hands. “Might you set me on the ground now?”
He grinned. “Of course.”
He lowered her slowly, relishing the feel of control. He knew it wouldn’t become an everyday occurrence with her. As soon as her toes touched the road, she stepped back and shook out her skirts.
She gave him a repressive look from under her brows. “My aunt is rather hard of hearing, and she doesn’t like gentlemen much.”
“Oh, good.” He held his arm for her. “This should be interesting.”
“Humph.” She placed her fingertips on his sleeve, and again he felt that thrill. Perhaps he’d had too much tea at breakfast.
They mounted the steps, and he let the tarnished brass knocker fall against the door. Then there was a rather extended wait.
Jasper glanced at his bride. “You said she was deaf, but are her servants deaf as well?”
She pursed her lips, which had the contrary effect of making him want to kiss her. “They’re not deaf, but they are rather old and—”
The door creaked open, and a rheumy eye peered out at them. “Aye?”
“Lord and Lady Vale to see Miss . . .” He turned to Melisande and whispered, “What was her name again?”
“Miss Rockwell.” She shook her head and addressed the aged butler. “We’re here to see my aunt.”
“Ah, Miss Fleming,” the old man wheezed. “Come in, come in.”
“It’s Lady Vale,” Jasper said loudly.
“Eh?” The butler cupped a hand behind his ear.
“Lady Vale,” Jasper bawled. “My wife.”
“Yes, sir, indeed, sir.” The man turned and tottered down the hall.
“I don’t think he understood me,” Jasper said.
“Oh, good Lord.” Melisande tugged at his sleeve, and they entered the house.
Her aunt must either have a dislike of using candles or be able to see in the dark, for the hallway was very nearly black.
Jasper squinted. “Where’d he go?”
“This way.” Melisande marched forward as if she knew exactly where to go.
And she did, for after a series of turns and a flight of stairs, they were presented with a door and a room with a light.
“Who’s there?” a querulous voice asked from beyond the door.
“Miss Fleming an’ a gentleman, mum,” the old butler replied.
“Lady Vale,” Jasper shouted as they entered the room.
