like her to question her plans.
‘We will. Mr Bronson will spread the word among our guests, especially the more influential ones. We’ll offer them a special membership, entice them into joining and others will follow. It always worked in Savannah.’
‘Did it now?’
‘Attracting patrons is the one other skill Uncle Patrick taught me that I excelled at. How do you think I drew men to the Company Gaming Room so fast?’ The sense of accomplishment he used to experience on nights when every chair at every table was filled and a crowd two or three deep stood behind them gripped him. He should be ashamed, not proud. The one consolation was realising he’d soon put some of what he’d learned to reputable use.
‘Then I have no doubt we’ll be successful in London.’
Her faith in him was touching if not disconcerting. His uncle had believed in him and he’d let him down. He wondered how long it would be until she and all the others, both here and in America, who relied on him, suffered the same disappointment.
‘Hello?’ Mr Bronson called out, breaking the quiet between Jasper and Jane. ‘Anyone here?’
‘In the dining room.’ Jasper turned as his associate strolled into the dining room. ‘We were just talking about you. I was telling Miss Rathbone what an excellent partner you are.’
‘So exceptional, I brought you last night’s take.’ He handed Jasper a leather folder full of banknotes.
‘Thank you, but how did you find me here?’
‘I went by your house and they told me you were here.’ This wasn’t the first time Mr Bronson had gone searching for him at the Charton house. He’d met Jasper’s family shortly after their return and during the many times he’d collected Jasper on the pretext of other business while they’d been establishing the Company Gaming Rooms.
Jasper tucked the folio under his arm and drew Jane to his side. ‘Miss Rathbone, allow me to introduce my associate, Mr Gabriel Bronson.’
‘A pleasure to meet you.’ Mr Bronson swept off his hat and folded into a deep bow.
Jane curtsied, then rose with an impish smile. ‘Quite an angelic name for a gambler?’
‘My father was a preacher.’ Mr Bronson set his hat on his head and hooked his thumbs in his waistcoat pocket. ‘Tried to redeem me before I was even a man. Didn’t realise I was already lost.’
‘And what about Jasper, how lost was he in Savannah? He’s told me so little of it. I want to know what he was like there.’
Mr Bronson exchanged a wary glance with Jasper. ‘There isn’t really much to tell. It’s not so different here than it was there. He still enjoyed the finer things like clothes, and wines, but he had to come to London to find the finest fiancée.’
To Jasper’s amazement, Jane blushed. ‘I don’t believe you. There must have been something different about him there.’
Mr Bronson took his tobacco pouch out of his pocket and swung it in a small circle in front of him. ‘Well, Jasper did attend the theatre more and of course there was the gaming room.’ He described to Jane the gaming room in all its glittering and gaudy splendour and Jasper’s and Uncle Patrick’s place in it, trips to the theatre and parties at the finest Savannah homes with the mayor and other influential men. Jasper could barely recall the lively and carefree man he used to be before the epidemic, the one he could be again with Jane by his side.
‘I didn’t realise Jasper was so influential in Savannah, or how wide a swathe he cut through high society,’ Jane remarked with amusement when Mr Bronson finished his tale.
Jasper shook his head. ‘It wasn’t as impressive as he’s making it sound.’
‘Or you’re being modest.’
‘He’s right Miss Rathbone, I might have embellished a little, but I want you to think well of your husband-to-be.’
‘Will you be at the wedding, Mr Bronson?’ Jane asked.
‘No. I don’t fancy formal events, but I wish you all the best, Miss Rathbone. You’ve found a fine man in Jasper.’ He slapped Jasper on the back. ‘Now, if you’ll excuse me, my bed is calling.’
With another imperial bow he took his leave.
‘For a rake he’s a charming man. I see why you chose him to be the face of your gaming room,’ Jane observed once he was gone. ‘And you’re right. It wouldn’t be fair to sell it out from under him. I’ll use my money to purchase the necessary furniture and accoutrements.’
‘No, I have ample funds for it. I’ll advance them to you and you can purchase what you need with them. I’ll also give you free rein on contracts and spending once we’re married, sooner if you’d like. We can visit my solicitor, Mr Steed, tomorrow and make all the necessary arrangements.’
‘Yes, I want everything to be in place so I can begin at once and, while the hell is still yours, make sure the two of you promote the benefits of our club,’ Jane added.
‘We’ve already begun. I can also sell what’s still in the warehouse since I’m sure you have no desire to see it installed in our house.’ He came up to her and placed his arms around her waist, holding her as naturally as he breathed.
‘You’re right. I have no desire to decorate like the Sun King.’
‘Too bad, the bed in the warehouse is quite sturdy.’ He pulled her tighter against him.
She laid her hands on his shoulder and playfully peered up at him. ‘Is it, now?’
He brought his mouth so close to her ear, his lips brushed the lobe as he whispered, ‘Very.’
She shivered and he closed his eyes, nearly groaning at the sweetness of her response.
‘Then perhaps we can keep the one piece.’ She ran her finger along the lapel of his coat, the gesture as tempting as it was subtle.
He was about to accept the silent invitation in her eyes and touch his lips to hers when the bells of St Bride’s Church rang out and Jane jerked back. ‘Oh, we have another appointment.’
He brushed her neck with his lips. ‘Are you sure you want to go?’
She pushed him out to arm’s length, the businesswoman in her winning out over the vixen. ‘We aren’t married yet and there’s a cheesemonger expecting us.’
* * *
A half hour later they stood in Mr Stilton’s shop, sampling a variety of cheddar like none they’d ever tasted before. It was difficult for Jane to concentrate on the tang of the cheese with the taste of Jasper still so sharp. He wore a fawn-coloured coat over a dark waistcoat. Both were tailored to fit his firm chest and offer a hint of what she’d seen the other morning. In the carriage on the way here, she’d considered tempting him into another peek, but had refrained. She’d been audacious enough in her proposal, she didn’t wish to appear like a harlot or ruin the delights of the wedding night with her impatience.
‘What do you think?’ She licked a crumb
