Page 61 of Dangerous Games of a Broken Lady
“You have said so before.”
He nodded. “I am sorry for that. You know I could never do such a thing to you, for you are so very dear to me. You have been my constant companion all these years and I am grateful for it.” His gaze lingered for a moment, confusing Adelaide. A flicker of something moved behind his eyes—an emotion she could not read. It seemed to fall somewhere between sadness and wonder.
“I am grateful, too.”
“I have been meaning to say something for a long while now,” he said nervously. “When you stood on the front steps after you feared that the Duke of Bradford had broken his promise…I should have done more to comfort you. I wanted to do more, but I did not know what to say or do to ease your suffering. I would have done whatever I could, if I had only known how to behave.”
She stared at him in surprise. “You did more than you realize. Having you there, by my side, was a comfort in my darkest time.”
“It has been many years since I have seen you cry, Adelaide. It wounded me to see you in pain. I wanted to reach out and wipe them away, or take your hand, or…I do not know. I simply have to tell you that I wanted to do more.”
She had never heard Jasper speak like this before, and the shift in his words stirred something inside her. She thought of the letters, and the emotions that she had poured into them. They had come from her heart, and yet Leah was set to gain the recognition for them. He adored the Miss Green that she had fabricated, not realizing that the sentiment was hers.
“I understand that you did all that you could,” was all she could say.
“There is something about Miss Green that reminds me of you,” he went on, with a shy smile. “The way she speaks—her vigor and her candor—they are reminiscent of your character. Naturally, you would never say the things that she has said, for you loathe romanticism in all its forms. I have never seen this side of her before. It is entirely pleasing.”
“That is wonderful news,” Adelaide replied, her heart weirdly heavy. “I am glad that she is able to bring you some joy, even from afar.”
“I do wish she would visit again,” he sighed. “Had I known she was back in the city, I might have ventured to meet with her. I have to see if the young lady on the page is the same young lady in the flesh. It is easier to say certain things in letters, I feel. I am certainly more forthcoming than I am in person.” He laughed tightly, as though embarrassed.
“Have you offered hope of a proposal?”
He shook his head. “No, I have not. I fear she may end up engaged to another if I do not move more quickly. Her mother is applying some pressure, or so it would appear. She talks of suitors and of duty. In truth, I do not know what I ought to do.”
“What does your heart say?”
He shrugged. “It is conflicted. I cannot make the two ladies coincide—the Miss Green in these letters is entirely more enchanting than the Miss Green who has visited with me. She is very endearing in person, do not mistake me, but I cannot correlate this voice with the one that I already know. She seems almost like a stranger… but one that I should love to get to know better.”
“Will you continue to write to her?”
“I must. I must venture deeper into her nature and reveal the truth of her character through these writings,” he said effusively. “For, if this is truly her, without the restraints of societal courtesy, then she is precisely the sort of young lady that I have been seeking all these years. She is exactly the lady that I would wish to make my wife.”
Adelaide froze. “I never thought to hear you speak of such things so plainly.”
“Something has been moved within me, Adelaide. I feel I am becoming a new man.” He laughed, though the sound stilled as he looked toward Adelaide. She could not force a smile onto her face. “You do not approve?”
“If she continues to capture your heart…I think only you may decide on the course of action.” Her own heart pounded in her chest, an icy feeling sliding through her veins.
Can that be… envy? Surely not, Adelaide. You cannot envy Leah, her position in Jasper’s heart. He adores her well enough. She may be unworthy of him, given her transgressions with Alastair McGillivray, but you cannot sway his opinion. You must control yourself. This is the writing speaking, not you. You were given a taste of the romantic and it is intoxicating—this may be so, but do not give it any weight. If you loved Jasper, you would already know… would you not?
Confusion speared through her mind, a tangle of emotions that she did not know what to do with, nor did she recognize. She had never been jealous of anyone, least of all Jasper’s admirers. Indeed, she could not comprehend the process of her own brain. It seemed to have gone quite mad.
“Is something the matter?” he asked softly.
She shook her head. “No… I had an encounter with the Duke of Bradford and it has left me somewhat at sea.”
“How so?”
“I was under the impression that affection was supposed to grow and strengthen over time, but I could not muster an ounce of it when he came to visit today,” she confessed, though she had no idea why. This was not the kind of thing she usually discussed with Jasper. “I can barely admit it to myself, but… there is a part of me that dreads our union. My father sought to rush the wedding, but the Duke said he could not wed me within two weeks. He desired a longer engagement. I must tell you, I discovered that I was grateful to hear it.”
He stared at her in silence for a moment. “You do not believe you will be happy at his side?”
“I do not know, Jasper. I find myself in a curious state of confusion.” She almost blurted out the truth, but fear held her back. He would likely despise her if she confessed that she was the letter writer. And besides, what was she supposed to say to him? She did not know her own feelings, how could she describe them to him? They were so new and surprising… and utterly terrifying.
“What has brought such bemusement upon you?”
“I cannot say.”
