Page 61 of Adeline

Jasper had long been the man everyone relied on for their needs. He’d never been one to count on others for something he could do himself.

These people, they offered him a gift, yet it felt more like a decree.

Jasper turned his attention back to Adeline as the music swelled, and they moved effortlessly across the polished dance floor as if they’d paired one another on a thousand other occasions and in hundreds of similar ballrooms.

Too soon, the music came to an end, and so did their dance.

The musicians set their instruments aside and stepped off the dais as couples, each in turn, fled the dance floor. Young debutantes were returned to their chaperones, men disappeared into the card room, lords escorted their companions to the refreshment table, and a few disappeared onto the terrace.

All while Jasper stood frozen on the dance floor, Adeline at his side.

He need return her to her brother or Lady Melton.

He need depart with haste.

He need pray that scandal and gossip would not take root and destroy Adeline and her family.

Jasper would never forgive himself if he were the cause of more families suffering. As the only surviving Ailesbury, the loss of his servants in the stable fire had been his fault. It had been his fault children had been raised without their father and mother present. It had been his fault that even now his people could not look him the eyes, could not trust him to care for them, could not look past his scars and see the man he’d worked hard to become since the tragedy at Faversham.

“It is time I return you to Lord Melton,” he sighed, not having the heart to meet her gaze. “You are the guest of honor, and I cannot monopolize your time any longer.”

Without another word, Jasper tucked her gloved hand in his elbow and started for her brother.

“Lord Melton.” Jasper’s voice shook slightly, and he cleared his throat before continuing. “Thank you for the kind invitation.” He turned to Adeline next, focusing on her lips as opposed to her eyes, glistening with moisture. “Miss Adeline, it has been a pleasure. I do hope your celebration is all you hoped for. It is time I take my leave and return to my home in Faversham.”

Melton’s eyes narrowed on Jasper as he bowed curtly and turned to depart before Adeline—or her brother—could offer any objection.

Giving Adeline one last look over his shoulder, he hoped she understood he didn’t want to leave her. If it had been up to him, he would have stayed, gossip be damned.

His footsteps were solid, if not confident, as he made his way to the double doors and the foyer beyond. He need only make it outside into the fresh air and out of sight of the ton. Then, and only then, could he allow himself time to dwell on his night.

Placing his hand on the doorframe, Jasper glanced over his shoulder once more, but Adeline was already out of her brother’s grasp and headed deeper into the ballroom. Jasper had no right to stop her or dissuade her from enjoying her ball. Nor did he possess the means to care for her in any way she’d see as satisfactory.

“My lord,” Jasper glanced back toward the foyer, the Melton butler having appeared at his side. “May I be of assistance?”

“My carriage, please.”

“Right away, Lord Ailesbury,” the butler bowed. “Do wait here, and I will summon you when your conveyance is ready.”

Jasper nodded, knowing there was nothing more he could do but depart into the cold night in search of George and his carriage. Instead, he moved into the shadows outside the ballroom and stared into the celebration.

An outsider.

An outcast.

An interloper.

These were not terms to be applied to those of the ton who’d discovered them on the terrace, but to Jasper’s own standing among the beau monde.

He was the one who did not belong. He was the one to forever watch from the shadows.

It was better this way. His scars would be kept hidden, and Jasper could hold tight to his guilt.

Scanning the crowd one last time, Jasper could no longer pick out Adeline from the throng of people in the ballroom.

It was better this way.

She would forget him in time, and he would hold tight to the memory of her in his arms. Perhaps then, and only then, he could allow a bit of the guilt that had plagued him for over a decade to loosen its hold on him.