Page 4 of The Widow's Scandalous Gentleman
Thalia hesitated, then gave a small nod. “Very well. But it’s grown too late in the day for such a thing now. Most of the residents have retired to their own pursuits, and the quiet is something I try not to disturb once it settles in.”
“Then allow me to stay the night,” he said, not boldly, but with a quiet firmness that suggested he was more accustomed to cooperation than refusal. “I’ll take whatever chamber is least inconvenient. I give you my word I’ll keep out of the way.”
Thalia arched a brow. “Are you always so quick to insert yourself into other people’s households, or am I to feel specially chosen?”
His mouth curved into something close to a grin, but he answered seriously. “I’ve never encountered a household quite like this one. That’s not flattery—it’s simple fact. And I don’t believe I’ll understand its value if I remain on the doorstep.”
She folded her arms, gaze narrowed slightly. “And if my brother were to arrive early? If he were to find you already installed under my roof, how would you suggest I explain your presence?”
“As a prospective patron,” he replied, without hesitation. “Interested in offering support to an artistic institution that aligns with his values—or challenges them, depending on the mood.”
She gave a soft huff of laughter, though she made no attempt to hide her scepticism. “You truly think yourself capable of charming Marcus Berrington?”
“I make no such claim,” he said easily. “But I’m not entirely without experience in navigating difficult personalities.”
Thalia turned back to the hearth, watching the fire flicker and settle lower in the grate. When she finally spoke, her voice was quiet.
“I can offer you the east chamber. It is simple, but comfortable. The tour can follow once you have broken your fast in the morning and the day begins.”
Lord Jasper inclined his head. “More than generous, Lady Greaves. Thank you.”
She said nothing in return for a moment, and the silence settled between them—not uncomfortable, exactly, but watchful. Measured. As though both were aware they had stepped into uncertain territory, and neither quite knew what the next move should be.
Thalia, staring into the fire, found herself wondering—not for the first time that day—whether Lord Jasper’s presence would prove a brief distraction, a source of trouble, or something else entirely.
Outside, the last of the sun slipped behind the garden wall, and the house, already quiet, seemed to exhale into stillness.
Chapter Two
“I confess myself most curious, Lord Jasper, as to what manner of assessment you propose to conduct regarding an establishment whose purpose you claim to admire so greatly. There seems to be some contradiction between your professed interest in artistic patronage and the family business that brought you to Brighton in the first place.”
Lady Thalia Greaves stood beside the tall window of the morning room, her dark gaze fixed upon Lord Jasper Vexley with the sort of penetrating attention that had once caused seasoned diplomats to reconsider their carefully rehearsed positions. The early light filtered through gauzy curtains, casting pale shadows across her features and catching on the polished edge of the windowsill, which she gripped with more force than necessary. Whether her tension stemmed from the prospect of her brother’s arrival later that day or from the continued presence of her unexpected guest, she could not quite determine.
Lord Jasper paused in his examination of the watercolour paintings that adorned the morning room walls, his grey eyes meeting hers with an expression that seemed to war between honesty and discretion. “I fear I may have given you the wrong impression regarding my intentions, Lady Greaves. That’s entirely my doing—I am rarely at a loss for words, but your establishment has proven more unexpected than I anticipated.”
“Unexpected in what particular way, if I might inquire?”
Thalia moved away from the window with measured steps, her black mourning dress rustling softly against the Aubusson carpet as she positioned herself near the fireplace where the morning’s cheerful blaze cast dancing shadows across the room’s elegant furnishings.
“For I have learned to be somewhat wary of gentlemen who profess fascination with unconventional households,” she continued evenly, “particularly when such fascination coincides with mysterious family business requiring their presence in precisely the location where such households happen to exist.”
The accusation lingered in the air between them like smoke from a poorly trimmed candle, and Lord Jasper coloured slightly—whether from embarrassment or discomfort, she could not say.
“You have every right to question my motives,” he said after a pause. “And I won’t pretend that your caution is unwarranted. I imagine you’ve encounteredyour fair share of gentlemen whose interest in your work was motivated by something rather less noble than admiration.”
“Indeed I have, Lord Jasper. Which is precisely why I must ask whether your family’s business involves any assessment of properties in this part of Brighton—and whether such assessments might include establishments such as mine.”
Her voice remained calm, but it was the calm that preceded a storm. She saw with some satisfaction the way his gaze flickered—just briefly—at her directness. Most women of her acquaintance, she suspected, would have couched such inquiries in gentler phrasing. She had never been one for euphemism when clarity would serve her better.
“I can see,” Lord Jasper said after a pause, “that you are far too intelligent to be fobbed off with vague assurances or polite evasions.” A flicker of something passed through his expression—part discomfort, part reluctant admiration. “Very well, Lady Greaves. I shall endeavour to be as forthright as you deserve, though I cannot promise that my honesty will improve your opinion of either my character or my family’s intentions.”
“I find myself prepared to risk such disappointment in exchange for the truth, however unpalatable it might prove to be,” Thalia assured him with the sort of cool composure that had served her well during the more difficult moments of her marriage and widowhood alike.
Lord Jasper drew a deep breath and moved to stand before the mantelpiece, his hands clasped behind his back in a posture that suggested he was bracing himself for an unpleasant but necessary duty.
“My family has indeed asked me to conduct assessments of several properties in the area, some of which are—shall we say—less conventional in nature. That said, I must emphasise that my original instructions were to observe and report rather than to interfere in any way with the daily operations of such places.”
“Original instructions?” Thalia seized upon the phrase with the precision of a barrister identifying a crucial point in testimony. “Am I to understand that your instructions have since changed—or that you have chosen to exceed the scope of your original mandate?”
