the neighbourhood.
‘I think that went well,’ Mr Bronson said, his voice echoing in the dark room.
‘As well as can be expected. Adam, please return to the gaming room.’
The footman hurried back upstairs.
Mr Bronson took his pipe and tobacco pouch out of his pocket, but did nothing with either. ‘He can’t ruin us. What we’re doing isn’t illegal.’
‘I never thought you a legal scholar,’ Jasper joked, trying to shake off the tight worry in his shoulders and Mr Bronson’s words.
‘I’m not, but I’ve been doing things like this long enough to make a habit out of knowing the local laws. Captain Christiansen can’t do anything more than bluster.’
‘No, but Lord Fenton could make things difficult for us, perhaps even see us closed. Earls have a way of wielding influence. Let’s hope he doesn’t take an interest in his son’s evening activities.’
‘How long do you think the son’s been playing with his father’s money?’
‘I have no idea, but I’ll have to find out.’ He wasn’t sure how he’d do so. He didn’t know anyone in the Admiralty who could tell him when the captain had resigned his commission. Mr Rathbone might be on good terms with someone there, given his vast network of connections, but it would mean telling him about the club. Perhaps Jane could assist him, but he refused to drag her into the mire of his gambling affairs. He’d have to find a way to discover it on his own. ‘How much did Captain Christiansen lose before you cut him off?’
‘Two thousand. I was distracted by another matter and the Hazard man is new and didn’t know to tell me.’
‘Two thousand might be enough to catch an earl’s attention.’ He rubbed his eyes with his fingers. As pleasurable as his mornings with Jane were, he was tired from missing a great deal of his usual sleep since the wedding. ‘Uncle Patrick wouldn’t have been this sloppy about managing clients.’
‘He didn’t exactly manage them as much as he fleeced them,’ Mr Bronson snorted.
‘You shouldn’t speak ill of the dead.’
‘I know.’ He shoved the tobacco pouch back in his pocket and tapped the pipe bowl against his palm. ‘What are we going to do about Captain Christiansen?’
‘Nothing tonight.’
‘Then go home and get some sleep.’ Mr Bronson clapped him on the shoulder. ‘You look like hell.’
Mr Bronson headed back upstairs, leaving Jasper alone in the warehouse. He didn’t make for his carriage, but stared at the emptiness around him, broken only by the gaudy furniture in the corner. The furniture was some of the last tangible remnants of his life in Savannah, except for his uncle’s ring on his finger, the one he’d won from a tobacco merchant. Jasper had no idea how much of the man’s other goods and wealth his uncle had taken from him or how much of what Jasper had inherited had come from a similar source.
He twisted the ring on his finger. Jasper might have stopped Captain Christiansen from ruining himself, but he couldn’t say how many other men had thrown their livelihoods away in Savannah without his knowing.
They chose to throw it away.
Even if he left the business it wouldn’t stop men from chasing luck or betting on cards. Better they do it under the eye of a man who intervened rather than the many in London who’d bleed them dry. These were the tales Jasper had told himself, the ones he hoped Jane never discovered.
The Covent Garden Theatre glittered with the thousands of candles in the chandeliers hanging over the audience. Jane could barely sit still or concentrate on the performance on stage. She was too busy watching the audience from her place in the box Jasper had rented for the evening. She and Mrs Hale used to read about performances when she was younger, but Philip had deemed them improper for her to attend. Now she was a married woman, she could come here as much as she pleased and no one could disapprove or look askance at her because of it.
This was exactly how she’d expected married life to be.
‘Are you enjoying yourself?’ Jasper approved the bottle of champagne the footman held out to him and sent the man on his way.
‘I could get used to doing this every night.’ She sat back from the edge of the box where she’d been perched to watch the King carrying on with his mistress, Marchioness Conyngham, in a box across the way. Jane and Mrs Hale used to read about the woman in the papers. She never thought she’d be watching her and His Highness together before her and everyone. Between this spectacle and the glow of the last few nights of lovemaking, she felt very wicked and wanton. Philip was right to have kept her away from here.
‘It can’t be every night.’ He wrapped a linen towel around the bottle and worked out the cork with a muffled pop. Then he poured some of the straw-coloured liquid into the two glasses on the narrow table between their chairs. Each turn of the bottle as he poured to avoiding spilling a drop whispered with his experience. This wasn’t his first theatrical performance. ‘I must work if I’m to keep you in style.’
* * *
Jasper took a deep drink of the champagne, barely tasting it as he examined his wife. She wore a rich purple gown embellished by a thin line of lace along the bodice where the tempting mounds of her breasts rose above the silk. Maturity and poise hung in every elegant curl tucked in the combs at the back of her head, but her wide-eyed amazement and the ease of manner between them were just as alluring. Around her there was no pretending he was someone else, no lies about slipping out to his hell. They simply enjoyed their marriage and all the delights it offered.
‘Do you like your new earrings?’ He caressed the curve of her ear, following the delicate skin down to where the gold-and-diamond bauble shimmered with each of her movements.
She laughed as she pulled back, her joy as effervescent as the champagne. ‘I love them, but you mustn’t keep buying me things I don’t really need.’ She twirled a gold bracelet on her arm, another of his lavish gifts.
‘It’s the reason I bought them for you.’ And why he sent funds to Mrs Robillard. Spending money on them was the single penance he could do to make up for his failings. ‘You’re too sensible to spend my money so shamelessly.’
‘You should be, too.’
‘I don’t buy anything I can’t pay cash for right away. You won’t find a bill clinging to me.’
‘Not even if I looked very, very, hard, over every inch of you?’ She traced the line of his jaw with one gloved finger while balancing her champagne glass in the other hand.
He caught her fingers with his. ‘Not even then.’
She bit one lip with her teeth with the same anticipation tightening his insides. ‘We’ll see tonight.’
The audience laughed and Jane whipped her attention back to the theatre. Jasper held her hand, enjoying her delight as she watched the spectacle in the audience as well as the one on stage. Her excitement
