This was as close to the truth of her and Jasper’s discussion as Jane was willing to venture.
‘I understand.’ Laura took Jane’s hand. ‘When my uncle sold my father’s draper shop and I was left with nothing to do every day, I almost went crazy. I was so accustomed to working, I couldn’t sit idle. I can only imagine how it’s been for you. I’m sorry I didn’t see it before or do more to help you.’
‘It isn’t your fault, it’s no one’s, except perhaps mine.’ Jane unclenched her fingers, wondering if she should have made an effort to speak with Laura sooner, but there were some things Jane couldn’t share with anyone. ‘Somehow, I’ve managed to drive good gentlemen, and one very bad one, away.’
Laura squeezed her hand. ‘Not at all. You’re simply discerning, like your brother, and you’ve been waiting for the right one. I think Mr Charton is perfect for you and I believe Philip will see it, too.’
Jane wasn’t as convinced of her desirability as Laura, nor of having been waiting for the right gentleman. If she had, it hadn’t been out of choice.
Footsteps in the hallway made them both rise and face the door. Philip entered first and Jane studied his face, searching for signs of an answer. The lines at the sides of his mouth were softer and the suspicious scrutiny previously hardening his blue eyes was gone.
Jasper convinced him!
Jasper strode in behind him as if his gambling house had received a massive win. He winked at her and Jane had to resist throwing her arms around his neck in congratulations. Instead, she returned the wink, blaming the racing of her heart on the thrill of them having succeeded. Though he would be her husband, she refused to view him as anything but a friend with more intimate benefits.
‘I give you both my consent to marry.’ Philip kissed her forehead in congratulation, as he used to when she was young and did well at her maths lessons, before she’d grown older and begun to rebel against him for reasons she still didn’t entirely understand. When he straightened, he took her hand and gave it to Jasper. ‘Mr Charton and I will speak tomorrow about drawing up the marriage contract and securing the common licence. You can wed as soon as the required seven days are past.’
Jane wondered what Jasper had said to convince Philip of the need for a quick marriage. With Milton, he’d insisted on a long engagement, giving Milton time to live up to Philip’s low expectations. Perhaps Philip now allowed the wedding to hurry because he was tired of looking after her and exhausted at having to talk sense into her. He was giving her to another man and relieving himself of the burden.
No, I shouldn’t be so uncharitable. Whatever her brother’s motives, there was no mistaking his tender expression, much like the one the elder Mr Charton sported whenever he mentioned his grandchildren. It eased a measure of her fears, as did Laura’s excitement.
‘Wonderful!’ Laura embraced Jane in congratulations. ‘You two will be very happy.’
Jane returned the hug and over Laura’s shoulder she caught Jasper’s eye. A strange awkwardness stiffened his movements as he shook Philip’s hand. She stepped away from Laura and Jasper let go of Philip. Jane and Jasper faced each other but his attention darted around the room with a tinge of uncertainty before he fixed on her. It was then the reason for his unease struck her. He might trust her with the secret of his gambling house, but there was another, darker one directly behind it, something to do with the things he couldn’t tell her about Savannah. It reminded her too much of Milton and how he’d managed to conceal his relationship with Miss Moseley. Worry dampened her enthusiasm. Once the parson’s mousetrap was sprung, they’d be stuck with one another for better or for worse. In her haste to change her situation, she wondered if she’d inadvertently made it worse.
* * *
Jasper sat at his desk in the warehouse office, dealing with an order for wine, but the memory of Jane continued to dominate his thoughts. Perceptive as always, she’d realised at once that they were going to be man and wife. She’d also caught his momentary doubt while he’d shaken Mr Rathbone’s hand. It had caused her to retreat into a reserve making her resemble her brother. He’d wanted to tell her his concerns had nothing to do with her and everything to do with him, but there hadn’t been a chance.
He slipped the ruby ring off his finger and turned it over and over. In Savannah, he’d spent years collecting money, property and influence, and in the end it had been worthless. In London it was different and yet it wasn’t. Money made the difference between having a proper life or doing without. All he needed to do was look at his footmen and dealers to see how wages had lifted them out of poverty and given them and their families the chance to thrive instead of merely subsist. Once Jasper had wed Jane, she would become his responsibility. If Jasper lost everything to some extremely lucky gambler, or if their families learned of the hell and turned their backs on them, it would be like Savannah all over again. Except, this time, there’d be no family or inheritance or collected goods to help him start over. They’d be ruined and he’d be the cause of it.
‘A right lucrative night last night, Mr Charton,’ Mr Bronson greeted Jasper as he entered the secret warehouse office. The older man drew out his vowels in the lazy way people from Savannah did. Jasper had found it amusing during his first year in the bustling port city, the easy manner of speech slipping into his own so that a few years into his apprenticeship his accent had become too garbled for anyone to guess where he was really from. It’d given him an air of mystery in Savannah, charming the ladies during garden parties at the big plantations. It had made him stand out here, too, as his seventeen-year-old twin brothers Giles and Jacob enjoyed teasing him about during family dinners. He’d struggled to lose the languid manner of speaking, but now he was snapping his vowels in place as day by day he left his time in the southern state behind. He wished his past and his concerns were so easily set aside. ‘What about Captain Christiansen. How did he do?’
‘Lost another five hundred pounds before we sent him home.’ Mr Bronson handed over the man’s signed debt, then dabbed his forehead with his red handkerchief, the warm room making him perspire.
Jasper slipped the ruby ring back on his finger as he examined Captain Christiansen’s name scrawled at the bottom of the paper. ‘Seems like more than a man who hasn’t taken a prize ship in a while can afford to lose.’
Mr Bronson strode to the window and slid up the sash. The cooler air laced with warmth from the coming summer spilled into the room. ‘Didn’t go quietly this time either, complained loudly about having a right to spend what he wants.’
‘Not in my establishment, especially if he’s going to make a scene. Scenes aren’t good for business.’ Jasper stared out the open window and the early morning sky dotted with thick clouds. The fresh air wasn’t refreshing so much as unsettling. ‘If he returns tonight, keep an eye on him. Hopefully, his current losses will encourage him to be more cautious with his play.’
‘And if they don’t?’
‘We may have to find a discreet way to bar him from the club. We don’t need Lord Fenton coming in here trying to redeem his son.’
Mr Bronson hooked his thumbs in his waistcoat pockets. ‘Don’t get y’all scraping to those sallow-faced men. Be better if you’d chucked them out like we Americans did.’
‘Some days I agree with you, but old habits are difficult to break.’ Jasper dusted his signature, then blew it off and handed Mr Bronson the papers.
‘Yes, they are.’ Mr Bronson rolled the debts in his hands. ‘How many old habits are you going to give up when you have a wife nosing about?’
‘None. She’ll simply accompany me to the jeweller’s and the theatre and help me enjoy my fine wine and food while working with me to establish the club.’ Jasper leaned back in his chair, far less cavalier than he appeared. Jasper had told his partner about his plans