Page 38 of Waiting for Love

Finally, he asked, “Has this frightened…Georgiana?”

“I don’t think frightened. Reg says she’s sad. I haven’t talked to her. Alice and the duchess are with her. But I—I didn’t feel right barging in too.”

Ah, poor Olivia. He knew how that felt, being the odd man out, unsure of one’s welcome. He gave her shoulder a sympathetic squeeze and felt her shivering.

“You should go back inside. It’s cold out here.” He helped her to stand and fussily tucked the blanket more tightly under her chin. “Is there anything I can do?”

She tossed her head. “I wish I knew.”

“I mean, for you.”

There was a long silence before she murmured, “You have.”

*

Only back in the south wing did Benjamin realize how familiar he’d been, calling her Olivia, calling everyone by their given names. It had been unthinking. But doing otherwise would have been unfeeling, which was worse.

Benjamin explained to Miss Jamison what had happened and asked her to keep Hannah confined to their apartments for the next day or two. She had been exploring the music room and the conservatory, but Benjamin didn’t know if the sight of a rambunctious toddler was what any of the Taverstons needed.

Not that it seemed likely they would stumble across her. As Benjamin made his way to Jasper’s study to read over the reports he’d been asked to look at, he found the whole of Chaumbers to be tomblike. Only servants were stirring, and they tiptoed and spoke in whispers. As best he could tell, no tea or dinner had been served. Everyone must be eating in their chambers. He hoped Olivia wasn’t still alone.

The reports were lengthier than he expected. Jasper’s man-of-business, Mr. Tate, recommended selling his interest in a few things and investing in others. Benjamin yawned, flipping the pages. There was something surreal about so much money floating about in such nebulous piles. Benjamin preferred working with tangible things. Estates. Property. Things he could see and touch. Fortunately for Jasper, Tate seemed to have a handle on investments. There was nothing wrong with the figures and the strategies seemed sound. He didn’t know what kind of advice Jasper wanted from him.

He tidied the sheaf of paper and slipped it all back into its case. Then heard the door swing open behind him. As he turned to look, Jasper walked in.

“I’m so sorry,” Benjamin said, rising. “So very sorry.”

Jasper nodded. His hair was oddly matted, and his eyes were puffy. He was in shirtsleeves and wrinkled trousers with no waistcoat or jacket. Benjamin had never seen him looking so bad. He took plodding steps forward, then slumped into his chair.

Benjamin cleared his throat. “How is Vanessa?”

Jasper mumbled, “Sleeping. The doctor gave her something.”

“And how are you?”

Jasper took a long time considering. Then he said, “Awful.”

“I know this is a stupid question, but can I do anything?”

Again, Jasper was quiet for several moments before saying, “Did you read Tate’s reports?”

“Yes. It all seems sound.”

Jasper nodded. He stared straight ahead. Then, abruptly, he threw his elbows onto the desk and lowered his head into his hands. His shoulders trembled. Benjamin felt he should not be there. Not watching Jasper weep. But he couldn’t get up and leave. So he just sat dumbly, wishing he could think what to say.

The door opened again. Reg walked in. He tossed a nod at Benjamin but made straight for Jasper, who had raised his head at the sound. Reg sank to his haunches and wrapped his arms around his brother’s shoulders, murmuring. Jasper responded only with nods or short shakes of his head.

After a minute or so, Reg let go and stood. He went to the liquor cabinet to fetch a bottle—a near-full bottle of brandy. He poured three hefty drinks. He waited for Jasper to throw his back, then Reg downed his. Benjamin followed suit. Reg poured three more and picked up his glass.

And Jasper laughed. He actually laughed.

“Reg, I appreciate it, but you can’t. You really can’t. I’ll have to carry you down the hall.” He rubbed his face. “God, I need a handkerchief. I left mine in my jacket.

Reg pulled one from his pocket. Jasper wiped his face. Then sipped from his brandy. Then ran a hand through his hair.

“I’ve only known for a fortnight. I suspected, but she wasn’t sure until two weeks ago.”

“I don’t know if that’s better or worse,” Reg said. “You barely had time to be joyful.”