escorted his new bride, who beamed like the morning sun, back to the Rathbone house and the wedding breakfast. A parade of revellers and well-wishers followed the new couple across the street and inside. Even Milton and his wife were there although they refrained from joining the receiving line.
Once the formalities were through, everyone went to the garden and the tables of food arranged among the rose bushes. A harpist played in the shade of the portico while hired footmen wove through the guests, offering champagne and headier spirits for the gentlemen. Jane was happily showing her ring to Justin and his wife Susanna when the clink of a spoon against a glass drew everyone’s attention.
‘To my son and his lovely wife.’ Jasper’s father’s deep voice carried over the garden from where he stood on the portico with Giles and Jacob. His nose was red, his eyes heavy. Despite it being the middle of the day, he’d indulged in a generous amount of Mr Rathbone’s fine Madeira. Jasper joined Jane as the entire crowd turned to admire them. ‘I can’t say I’m surprised to see you married, you two were as thick as thieves as children. One time, I caught them sneaking out of our house with a rope, threepence and a bottle of my best wine...’
‘Henry, I’m sure no one wants to hear such stories today,’ his wife gently reminded him, stopping him from finishing his tale of the morning he’d caught Jasper and Jane plotting to sell the wine and buy the pony Philip had refused to purchase for Jane.
‘I suppose you’re right.’ Jasper’s father rubbed his chin before he seemed to recall why he’d begun to speak. ‘What I mean to say is, you two were meant to be together and I can’t tell you how happy I am to see it happen at last. We worried about you, Jasper, when you were gone, feared you’d never make it home again, but you returned to us and to Jane.’ He raised his glass to them. ‘We love you both and wish you the greatest happiness.’
The guests raised their glasses in agreement. Jasper swept Jane’s lips with a sweet kiss and the guests applauded.
‘Well done, Jasper and Jane, well done.’ His father clapped before hurrying to chase down a footman with a full tray of wine.
Jane entwined her arm with Jasper’s. ‘He’s quite the orator, isn’t he?’
‘Indeed he is.’ The speech reminded Jasper of the many his father had given during family dinners and Christmas mornings as a boy, the ones he’d missed while he’d been away. Across the garden, his father spoke with some associates, confident and sure of himself despite his having imbibed a little too much. If he ever learned what exactly Jasper had made of himself in Savannah, and London, he’d never toast him again.
Beneath the clear blue sky hanging over the garden, and with the guests laughing and chatting, it was difficult to take his worries seriously. With Jane working alongside him, they’d have the club founded in a matter of weeks and he could stop living two separate lives. He might retain a percentage of the hell, but he’d have nothing more to do with its nightly activities, no extending of credit or having a hand in how any of the clients decided to waste their livelihoods. His father would never find out exactly what he’d sent his son to and what kind of man it had made him.
‘Jane, come with me.’ Olivia, Jasper’s eldest sister by ten years, hurried up to Jane and took her by the arm. ‘Lily, Alice and I have some advice we’re dying to give you.’ She led Jane off to join his other two sisters near the fountain along the back wall, welcoming Jane into the circle of married ladies. Olivia, with their mother’s fair complexion and lithe frame, talked the most, taking her role as eldest sister and potential marital mentor very seriously.
‘Olivia wasn’t so welcoming of Camille and Father wasn’t so effusive with his congratulations at my wedding dinner.’ Milton appeared at Jasper’s side, intent on bringing shade to the sunny day. He’d always been the most serious of the three of them, fretting over the consequences of their plotted adventures. He’d become even more morose as an adult. ‘But then you always did get the better deal.’
Jasper took a sip of his champagne to bite back the remark about it being his and his wife’s own fault they hadn’t received a warm wedding reception. This was not the time to start an argument. ‘I think you got the better end of the deal. I’ve seen horrors you can’t even imagine.’
A shadow seemed to pass over the garden until Jasper caught Jane’s eye. She flashed him a proud smile to drive back the darkness encroaching on him and he raised his glass to her.
‘There can’t always have been death and disease. There must’ve been something more thrilling to have kept you there for so long.’ It was the first sentence Milton had uttered to Jasper without each word dripping with condescension or jealousy.
Jasper studied Milton, seeing a hint of the brother he’d left and not the rival he’d become. ‘There was at one time, but nothing, and especially no one, there who can compare to here.’
None of the women he’d been with in Savannah, not the jaded widows who gambled as hard as the men, nor the bored planters’ wives who were eager to educate a man new to intimate nights, could match Jane. Her beauty was like deep water, not flashy or overdone, but steady, enhanced by her curves and the smooth fit of her dress. Her innocence called to him, as did her sharp wit and head for business.
‘Of course, I haven’t done too poorly.’ The brief moment of fraternity vanished as Milton puffed out his chest in pride and lifted his champagne glass to his wife who stood in the corner. ‘I’ve done well with Father, increasing his profits on more than one occasion, and I have a fine wife.’
Camille responded with a small smile before peering longingly at Jane and Jasper’s sisters while they continued to talk. It gave Jasper a better understanding of why Milton had chosen her over Jane. His wife held back where Jane strode forward and she wasn’t likely to show Milton up or reveal his weakness in business by exercising her strength. Milton might have avoided the challenges of a strong wife, but Jasper would welcome them, especially tonight. ‘If you’ll excuse me.’
Jasper wove his way through the guests to reach Jane, who stood now with Mr and Mrs Rathbone. Once beside her, he took her hand. He caught the slight intake of breath as he caressed her palm with his thumb.
‘Tell me about your cotton-trading business in Savannah, Mr Charton,’ Mrs Rathbone pressed. ‘My father was a draper, and I used to help him in his shop. I once knew a great deal about southern cotton. I’m curious to see how much I remember.’
Jasper’s thumbed stilled on Jane’s palm and her fingers tightened around his. He knew as much about cotton as Uncle Patrick had, which was nothing. He hadn’t expected Mrs Rathbone to be an expert. He racked his brain, trying to remember any of the conversations he used to overhear while pouring libations or slipping notes for more credit beneath the cotton-growers’ pens. Nothing came to him.
‘Don’t pester him with work, Laura.’ Jane batted her free hand at her sister-in-law. ‘We’re here to celebrate, not to be serious.’
‘Marriage has changed you already, Jane. You rarely ever pass up a chance to discuss business.’ Mr Rathbone regarded Jasper and Jane the way he used to when they were children and he caught them entering the house after being up to no good. Thankfully, Jasper’s mother approached and drew the host and hostess away.
Jane brushed her forehead with the back of her hand. ‘I see what you mean about lying to everyone.’
‘Why didn’t you tell me your sister-in-law knew about cotton?’
‘Because I haven’t
