Page 18 of To Wager with Love

“I know he doesn’t love me,” Harriet said, exhaustion tugging at her bones and making her long for an end to this ridiculous melodrama.

Her head was pounding, she felt sick, and she wanted to go away and have a good cry… but she had to get this over with.

“Our marriage would be based on mutual admiration and respect, my lord,” Mr de Beauvoir said, with what Harriet had to admit was a rather condescending tone. “Love is an archaic and nonsensical idea driven by social mores to allow for physical passion. Indeed, marriage is an outmoded concept, however, we are not in a position to defy the world and so must conform. That aside, I greatly admire Miss Stanhope’s mind. She has an astonishing intellect, and I think we could do great things together. Last night’s—” He waved a hand nonchalantly. “—indiscretion… was brought on by alcohol and the attentions of a handsome man,” he said, smiling a little. “Any inexperienced young woman would have her head turned by such an event.”

Jasper stared at him as though he was speaking a foreign language, though his desire to break de Beauvoir’s nose was coming across eloquently enough.

“Love is a nonsensical idea…?” he repeated faintly, too shocked for words. He shook his head and turned back to Harriet, his voice urgent. “Harry, love, I’m sorry for how this has come about, but I’m not sorry it happened. I wanted you last night and I want you now. I want to marry you.”

Harriet swallowed hard and shook her head. “I don’t believe you, Jasper. You’ve humiliated me today, and all because you can’t have what you believe to be yours, but I’m not yours.” Not anymore, she added silently, though her heart was shattering all over again. “I made a mistake, and I’m sorry, but I see no reason to punish us both further when there is no need.”

“Harry, no….”

Harriet’s heart clenched at the desperation in his voice. If only she could believe in that, believe that it was real, and not just for now, not just for a few weeks or months, but always. “You want me, I know you do. Don’t deny it just because it scares you. Just… Just give me a chance. A few weeks… Please.”

“Stop it,” Harriet begged, shaking her head and blinking back tears. She could hear his mother sobbing now too, and guilt and her own wanting was making her giddy and faint. “Please, stop it.”

“No,” Jasper said, shaking his head, clinging to her hands. “I can’t, I won’t!”

“Miss Stanhope.” Everyone turned as Inigo spoke again, his calm, commanding voice cutting through the increasingly overwrought atmosphere.

Harriet turned back to him, grateful for his logical mind and detachment. She wanted to run away from all the upheaval and bury herself in books and research, and anything that didn’t allow her to feel anymore. It was exactly why she had leapt at his offer in the first place.

“Miss Stanhope, upon reflection, I think Lord St Clair has a point. I have no wish to marry you only to discover you have regrets. In the circumstances, I think you need to get whatever this is between you and the earl out of your system. If—once you have purged whatever physical need you feel for the man—you still wish to marry me, I will be happy to continue with our plans.”

Harriet gaped at him. Was he… was he actually suggesting…?

“Oh, there’s no need to look so scandalised,” Mr de Beauvoir said, clearly amused. “We have discussed such things in the past and you know my views on freedom of mind and body. I have no requirement for my wife to be a virgin. I don’t, however, want any emotional scenes and outpourings of regret interfering with my work. I’d rather you get these physical urges out of the way now, rather than change your mind once we’re wed. It’s purely common sense.” He glanced back at Jasper and looked him up and down with obvious contempt. “I feel sure a woman with such a brilliant mind will make the right decision.”

“You cold bastard,” Jasper said, his voice like ice.

For once, Harriet was tempted to agree with him.

There was a spectacular silence in the wake of this pronouncement, and Mr de Beauvoir chuckled as he looked from one shocked face to another.

“Shall we say a week?” he suggested before bowing over her hand. “I’m staying at the inn in the village should you have further need of me. Goodbye, Miss Stanhope. Lady St Clair, Madam, Lord St Clair, good day to you.”

Chapter 5

Alice! Harriet’s in the most dreadful fix! We must do everything we can to lessen the gossip. I won’t be the least bit surprised if you’ve already heard, such news travels at lightning speeds as I know to my cost, but I’m afraid it’s likely all true….

―Excerpt of a letter from Miss Matilda Hunt to Mrs Alice Hunt.

31st August 1814. Holbrooke House, Sussex.

“Leave us.” Jasper’s voice was hard and implacable, and he hardly recognised it, but his mother and Harriet’s aunt had wit enough to leave quickly and without comment.

His heart and mind were being battered on all sides by so many conflicting emotions. It was all he could do to stay still and say nothing while they left. The urge to tear the room apart piece by piece was so tantalising he could taste it. He’d never in his life felt so out of control, so terrified, so bloody angry.

How dare he? How dare that man speak of Harriet in such a way? A man who thought himself worthy to be her husband, yet would hand her into another’s bed until they’d wearied of each other…. Jasper felt sick. He also felt panic rising in his chest.

Inigo de Beauvoir was a name he was familiar with. Not out of interest, but because he’d heard him spoken of often enough. He was a member of The Royal Society, a Fellow of The Geological Society and often held lectures at The Royal Institution, which were so well attended people stood in the aisles to get the chance to hear him speak. Well, the bastard might have a brilliant mind, but he had a lump of bloody ice where his heart should be.

Yet, he was right. Harriet was frighteningly intelligent. She had a mind that Jasper could only admire with quiet awe and could not begin to compete with. Christ… he’d not even gone to university. If bloody Napoleon hadn’t been causing chaos all over Europe, he’d have gone on a Grand Tour rather than continue the daily humiliation of being shown over and over that he was an idiot. As it was, his father had sent him to visit some maternal relatives in Russia, which Jasper had actually enjoyed, though he’d missed Harriet terribly.

Not that she believed that.

Why in God’s name would she choose him over such a brilliant man? Yet… was such a loveless existence really what she wanted, what she needed? He didn’t know if he could make her happy and keep her attention, but damn if he wouldn’t die trying. It wasn’t as if he resented her cleverness or would keep her from learning and spending time with likeminded people. Jasper couldn’t discuss the things she was interested in perhaps, and likely he wouldn’t even understand half of it, but he could give her every opportunity, and he could love her… he did love her.