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“Yes.” Jasper was relieved. He’d been ready for a battle, and it had only taken a short discussion.
“We’ll escort him back to Sandbourne,” the Colonel said.
“Again, you have my sincerest thanks,” Jasper told him, following him down the hall. Two guards were posted by the door at the end of the hallway. The Colonel knocked on the door. As he did, he looked at the guards.
“Get ready to escort Lord Sandbourne to his estate,” the Colonel ordered. They both nodded but went nowhere.
Stephen called out from the other side of the door. The Colonel opened it. Stephen was sitting on the bed, his jacket and boots off. His shirt was open at the top. He looked rumpled, as though he’d just woken up.
“The Duke has spoken in your defense,” the Colonel informed him. “While you’re still under suspicion, we do not have sufficient evidence to hold you here. Some of my soldiers will be posted at your estate. If you go anywhere or see anyone, we will know.”
“Understood,” Stephen replied, his gaze on the wooden floorboards.
The Colonel turned to Jasper. “As you requested, Your Grace.”
“Thank you, Colonel.” Jasper waited while Stephen pulled on his boots and his jacket. The two gentlemen walked out into the backyard, where Stephen was given a horse, as well as an escort of five soldiers from Colonel Fitz’s regiment.
Stephen looked at him, sadly. “Thank you,” he said stiffly.
“I don’t think you did it,” Jasper replied. “I’m—I’m so sorry to have doubted you.”
Stephen’s gaze was still on the ground. “Apology accepted, Your Grace.” Stephen’s adherence to Jasper’s formal address was a grating slap—one which was deserved. Their friendship had been strained and maybe even broken, but Jasper meant to do all in his power to help him.
“Do you want me to come with you?” Jasper offered.
“No. I—I want to be alone.”
“I understand. I’m so sorry, Stephen.”
“Thank you, Your Grace.” Stephen turned away from him.
Jasper watched as his oldest friend climbed up and onto his borrowed horse, and then rode toward Sandbourne estate, the red-coated soldiers escorting him in a small cluster.
He didn’t know how to repair their once-close bond. But he would do his best to clear Stephen’s name, regardless of whether their friendship survived this or not.
* * *
Selina sat in an armchair by the fireplace, in Thomas’s rooms, while her brother ordered his valet about. Her brother’s unpacking took as long as her own. She wanted, more than anything, to have him take her to Staunton, where they would be away from Gillingham County.
It appeared, however, that her brother meant to stay at Kirby Hall for quite a while. He was making himself comfortable. A fire had been built up, to fend off the slight chill of the rainy day.
Thomas was sipping a glass of brandy, watching his valet unpack. He was orchestrating, offering the poor man advice.
“What happened with Lord Merriweather?” Selina asked. She was dying of curiosity as to what had sent him thither.
“I may have pursued the wrong lady,” he replied, squinting and shrugging. He turned toward Selina. “You would like her, Selina, although she’s been promised from birth to Lord Merriweather’s particularly close friend. And then, I was accused of being too familiar with Lady Merriweather, as well!”
“Oh, Thomas! Please tell me that you’re not becoming a rake.”
“I’m tryingnotto, for Mother’s sake,” he said. “You mentioned that you were in a bit of a situation, yourself.”
“I may have fallen in love with the wrong gentleman,” she said.
“Selina! Not the one who’s been accused of stealing valuables and murdering a lady?” he asked, for the first time looking at her closely.
“No. Although he might have fallen for me.”
“Another one?”
