Page 24 of Holding Onto Love

He climbed in and settled on the bench across from her. The carriage rolled away from the theater. He waited for her to speak first.

Finally, she said, “You deserve an explanation.”

“Vanessa, no. This is not about me. Except to say that my support is fully yours.”

She sighed, a hitch catching in her throat. “I am acquainted with the Marquess of Hilyer. We were—at least in my father’s eyes and Hilyer’s—betrothed.”

Jasper ground his teeth to keep his jaw shut.

“My father being,” Vanessa continued a little breathlessly, “Frederick Culpepper.”

“Culpepper!” He nearly choked on the name. He had guessed Vanessa’s family had money, but not to that degree. Not Culpepper wealth. The man owned half the cotton mills in the North. He had a reputation, among the worst of his class, for abusing his employees. Of bribery. Corruption. And boorishness. The sod could not understand why his money could not buy him, at the very least, a baronetcy. A man’s own greed did not make him a worthy servant to the Crown!

The devil. The bloody devil. Jasper could draw a straight line. Culpepper had sacrificed his daughter to his futile ambition. He’d promised her to that disgusting lecher.

Jasper had not thought to close the curtains. Enough lamplight shone inward for him to see Vanessa was crying, making no sound. He moved to the bench beside her and pulled her against his shoulder.

“You don’t have to say anymore.” Jasper had never before wished to ruin a man. Now he wished to destroy two.

She wept. Not loudly or long, but she wept, and his heart wept along with her. When she sat back, he handed her his handkerchief. She wiped her eyes, then drew another deep breath.

“I’d like to explain about Henry. I did not…we were legally wed. I did not run off with a soldier.”

Jasper’s mind had not yet drifted to that conclusion, but admittedly, it might have. “Of course not.”

She said, “But we were wed in Gretna Green. It was not the most respectable marriage, but it was a marriage. Henry was the most honorable man I have ever known.”

That included him. Or excluded him, as it were. But he could not resent Henry Wardrip. He could do nothing but admire him.

“I told you I had few friends when I was young. Henry was one.” She paused and blew her nose, then made a sound of dismay. “I beg your pardon.”

“Vanessa, all ladies’ noses drip when they weep. Tell me about Henry. I wish I’d been privileged to know him.”

“I had no female friends because my father feared I would be polluted by them. Instead, I had more governesses, tutors, instructors, stylists—oh, anyone he could think to hire. My days were full. And I had things, Jasper. So many things. So many useless, hideous things. I used to lie awake at night on the Peninsula, oppressed not by the lack of them but by the memory of the appalling weight of them.”

The story bothered him because he understood, deep in the dark recess of his soul, that he owed Frederick Culpepper a debt of gratitude. Had the father not molded Vanessa into the form of a lady, Jasper would not have taken to her so immediately. Perhaps not at all. Had Crispin sent some costermonger into his care, he would have given her money and sent her on her way.

“He did not banish Henry?” Or Will Collingsworth? “What idiot father banishes female friends but allows young men?”

“Not at first. Henry was—oh, I was not allowed to associate with the sons of my father’s business acquaintances. God forbid. Can you imagine the designs upon, not my person, but my father’s mills?”

“You’re an only child?”

She shook her head. “I have a brother. We were close once, but I suspect Freddie has become a copy of my father.” She grimaced. “My father insisted upon it.”

He took her hand and squeezed it. He could not envision being so at odds with one’s brothers. Well, he could not envision any of this, truthfully.

“I did not stand to inherit any of the business, of course. But the connection would have been enough. That and the dowry my father advertised to anyone who would listen.”

“Don’t tell me.” How disgustingly crass. “But Hilyer is flush. Why…oh, God. Never mind. I know why.” Young, virginal, pretty, without significant connections or a father who cared. Hilyer would be slavering.

“I didn’t associate with men of my father’s ilk. But I wasn’t locked away in a hidden room. I knew some of my father’s more elevated associates. His attorney for example. And Will often accompanied his father. We had occasion to speak from time to time. Not often. But enough to grow an affection between us.”

“An affection?”

“A casual friendship. Jasper, please don’t—” She reached to touch his arm.

“I won’t. I’m sorry. Of course, I won’t.”