Page 84 of Holding Onto Love

Hilyer pushed back his chair. “You’re drunk. You’re talking nonsense.”

“I was not drunk when I wrote Bathurst. The letter will be delivered first thing in the morning.”

Another table-shaking snore came from Caro’s lips.

“Nonsense.”

Jasper shrugged. “If you say so. But last I checked, treason was still a hanging offense.”

He set down his glass and walked away.

Chapter Twenty-Four

The next morning, Jasper woke to sunlight warming his face. He opened his eyes and then shut them quickly. His head ached so badly he could not turn it without his eyeballs cracking. Where the devil was he?

He was tangled in a sheet that stank of curdled sweat and stale champagne breath. He wore only his shirt and drawers, but his clothes must be around somewhere.

He sifted through a befogged, disjointed cluster of memories. He’d been in the card room. Hazard would not let him leave, even sat him down at the Prince Regent’s table so that no excuse would serve. The very devil. Prinny could drink. And every man in Brooks’s had wanted to shake Jasper’s hand and slap a glass into it.

He felt he’d been run over by a carriage.

But it was a triumph. He’d collected invitations—invitations that included Mrs. Wardrip—more than he could count. Of course, the majority of those would be rescinded or forgotten once wives and mothers caught wind. But not the one to Carlton House. Prinny wanted to meet the brave lady. He’d called her that. Brave lady.

God. He’d left her worrying at 8 Grosvenor Square. Damn Hazard. That’s where he was. At Hazard’s. Another memory crashed back. Hazard and Prinny hauling him from Brooks’s and tossing him into a carriage. The Prince Regent had found it all hysterically funny. It must have been near dawn. And now it must be noon, at the earliest. He’d left her alone. He hadn’t sent word. God.

He opened his eyes a slit and tried sliding to the edge of the bed. His stomach roiled. He lowered his feet to the floor and raised himself slowly, closing his eyes as the room spun. Then he opened them rapidly, dropped to the floor on his knees, and vomited into the chamber pot. For a long moment, he rested his forehead against the cool marble flooring.

Eventually, he managed to crawl back into bed and roll his face out of the sunlight. He couldn’t go home. Not yet. He moaned himself back to sleep.

*

It was near to two o’clock in the afternoon when Hazard shook him awake and dropped a clean shirt and newly pressed evening clothes onto the bed.

“Wake up. That’s enough.”

Jasper groaned, but opening his eyes, he discovered that his headache had dulled to a quiet throb and his stomach no longer threatened revolt.

“What did you do to me?”

Hazard laughed. “You did it to yourself. I merely provided the means.”

“Vanessa—”

“Will be fine. But you’ve worn out your welcome. Time to go.”

Jasper sat up.

“You should have let me go home last night. Damn. How much did I lose?”

“Not enough to worry about. A few hundred pounds.” Hazard scratched his chin. “I stopped you from wagering Mercury. Prinny may never forgive me, but that is not your mount to bet.”

“God.” Then he scowled. Remembering more. “Why on earth did you pin me to that chair? The party broke up hours before—”

“Blame Crispin.”

“What? Why?”

“He said to keep you in my sight until well past daybreak. And, if possible, to keep you in the sight of other reliable witnesses as well. I think the Prince Regent qualifies.”