Page 74 of Holding Onto Love

Jasper stared. “You’re a lunatic. I can’t marry her. Not…God, Crispin. You aren’t naïve. Don’t pretend to be.” He cut off any rebuttal. “It’s my fault. I accept that.”

“Exactly what do you accept? Say it aloud.”

Jasper’s anger was now well and truly stoked. No one could needle him as thoroughly as Crispin could.

“That I ruined her. I did. Is that what you want to hear? She was my mistress. Everyone knows—”

“Here is that ‘everyone’ again.” Crispin sighed, rolling back his shoulders.

Then he rose, striding to a cabinet where Father kept liquor stashed. The old earl was not a secret tippler, but he liked a nip before bed and didn’t always want to be after the servants. Jasper kept his nips in the study rather than the library. But Crispin? Jasper watched him with concern. Crispin did not drink spirits. It made him ill. Yet he’d gone straight for the cabinet?

Crispin took out a bottle and poured a hefty glass. He set the bottle back and brought the glass to Jasper.

“Ha! That look on your face. Did you think I meant to swill it?”

Jasper said, “Or throw it at me.” He took the glass. “Why does this feel you wish me to brace myself, rather than console myself.”

“You don’t deserve to be consoled.” Crispin stepped away. “Tell me more about this ‘everyone,’” he said, moving to the bookshelves. “This ‘everyone’ who says Vanessa is ‘ruined.’ Tainted. Dare I say a—”

“Don’t!” Jasper slammed the glass down on the windowsill, shattering it. Shards of glass littered the carpet. Brandy dripped down the wall.

“The Prince Regent? Wellington? Are they everyone?”

Both were flagrant adulterers. And Wellington’s older brother had married his longtime mistress. It could be done. But society shunned the woman. That argument held no water.

“Or are you more concerned with the good opinion of everyone close to you?” Crispin wrinkled his brow as though he were considering the question. “Your friends? Surely you don’t fear Hazard will take you to task for impropriety?”

“Leave Hazard out of this.”

Something in his tone alerted Crispin that Hazard was out of bounds. He acknowledged that with a nearly imperceptible nod.

“It is Carleton then. Or Penworthy. Men whose respect you cannot bear to lose.”

“Crispin, shut up. You’ve made your point. We are all base creatures.”

“That isn’t my point. Who is everyone, Jasper? Your family? Will Reginald judge you harshly? Will I?”

“You always do.”

“Not always.” Crispin rubbed a hand over his eyes. A momentary illusion of weariness. Or maybe not an illusion. “Mother and Olivia?”

Jasper nodded slowly. “Mother would be disappointed. And I could not—expose Olivia to—”

“Oh, bollocks. You prig! You unworthy prig!” Crispin shouted. Then lowered his voice. “Mother adapts. That is what she does. And Olivia will be her own person no matter what you expose her to. Good God. This is Vanessa we are talking about. Not some disease.”

“I know it’s Vanessa, damn it.”

“Then who is everyone, Jasper?” He leaned forward. Earnest. Almost menacing. “Tell me. Who is this everyone who believes Vanessa is unacceptable? A ruined woman. Who? In whose eyes does it matter?”

Jasper ground his jaw. Crispin stood glaring. Waiting for him to speak. If he did not, Crispin would answer his own question. And Jasper could not bear it. He couldn’t bear to be so accused. Because he had no defense. He was guilty and knew it.

“Mine. You want me to say it matters in my eyes.”

“Is she acceptable to you? To you, Jasper? Or is she not?”

Jasper crumbled. Leaning against the window, turning his head, he felt hot tears in his eyes and shook his head hard to dash them away. What had he done? His shoulders heaved. He caught his breath. Desperate not to break down in front of Crispin. Not to break down at all.

“Have I pulverized you sufficiently?” Crispin sounded bored. “Are you mush? God, Jasper. Buck up. I didn’t even use the thumb screws.”