Page 107 of Holding Onto Love

No. No. No. No.

“May I, Vanessa, will you kiss me before I go?”

“I can’t. Jasper, don’t ask that. I can’t.”

He didn’t trust himself to speak. He turned and walked to the door. Stiffly. Afraid of breaking. Afraid he would never see her again. Never hear her voice. Never touch her. Never raise a family with her. He couldn’t bear it. It took all his strength not to turn back, run to her, and crush her in his arms. Convince her. But that might drive her further away.

As he started to open the door, she said, “Jasper?”

He turned.

She put two fingertips to her lips and blew him a kiss.

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Vanessa had not forgotten the advantages of security and comfort afforded her as Lord Taverston’s mistress. She had to admit she missed them. She didn’t need them, but she missed them. And those advantages paled in comparison to what awaited his countess. The carriage they had used in London, sometimes together, sometimes apart, had been fine enough, but riding in the Earl of Iversley’s coach, marked with the family crest, pulled along by six horses, accompanied by liveried footmen and four outriders, felt like some bizarre dream.

Unfortunately, it was her father’s dream, not hers.

She could not swoop into Cartmel in this. She told the driver to take her to Paxton Downs.

The long ride gave her time to reflect.

Crispin had given her “the high ground.” Surely, he hadn’t planned Jasper’s little tantrum, but seeing him thrown off-kilter rather than suavely rehearsed had only made her love him more. Even at his worst, Jasper had a beautiful soul.

He left the cottage at once. The remainder of the day, she had made herself useful helping Mrs. Badge in the kitchen so they would not have to suffer through another meal like the one served the night before—Crispin hadn’t even tried to be polite but pushed most of it to one side of his plate.

Mrs. Badge hadn’t seemed interested in prying. Rather, she lived a bit in the past and she was a talker, so Vanessa heard interesting tales. For one, the older boys bloodied each other’s noses regularly. Not, Mrs. Badge assured her, ever over grudges. It was because scuffling like street urchins was forbidden at Chaumbers, while the earl and the countess relaxed their rules here.

They were not allowed to hit the little one, naturally, until he caught up some. So they contented themselves with tormenting him. But oh! That child was a clever one. He must’ve been no more than eight when he sneaked into the boathouse and punched holes in the boys’ skiff. The next time they rowed out to fish, the boat sank, and they took a dunking.

“The countess, Lordy, she was angry! She told that boy he might’ve drowned his brothers dead. But dang if the little one didn’t tell her, serious as can be, ‘No, Mother. I made the holes so it would sink at two rods from shore. They can both swim that far.’”

Mrs. Badge erupted with laughter and Vanessa had to laugh with her though she thought the story far-fetched. Reginald had evidently been her favorite.

“The baby was always the pet. And hasn’t she grown up lovely?”

Vanessa had agreed. Olivia was lovely. And the most open-hearted lady she had ever met.

The coach rolled along so smoothly one might be floating. Vanessa pulled back the curtain to look at the countryside. They had come away from the trees and now the road was surrounded by yellow meadows covered with dwarf furze. Here and there, in the distance, she could pick out cottages and cleared fields.

She wondered what the countryside around Iversley was like. What Chaumbers was like. Beautiful, probably. She would certainly love Jasper’s home. She already loved his family.

Crispin had kept Olivia away until suppertime. He was startled—she should say peeved—to learn his brother was already gone. His face had hardened a moment, then he shook himself and made himself thank her, if woodenly, for consenting to speak with Jasper.

Olivia burst out, “You can’t have said no!”

“I didn’t. I said ‘maybe.’”

And then it had seemed they were all friends once more. Apparently, the Taverston siblings believed maybe meant yes. Who, after all, could refuse Jasper?

Over supper, Olivia had taken it upon herself to explain how one must deal with her brothers.

“There is no point arguing with Taverston males. You must ignore them. You’ll only waste your time disagreeing with Reginald because he’s always right. You can’t argue with Crispin because he will bully you into submission.”

“I do not bully!”

Olivia arched an eyebrow in his direction, and it was as though she had learned the technique from him. He closed his mouth and returned to his beans.