“I see,” Fiona said in the deadly, quiet voice Jasper had learned to dread. “So that justifies your leaving her to deal with this on her own?”
“Deal with what? She’s not without protection—”
“Jasper, she’s not a companion because she likes taking entitled brats to parties. You know her family’s circumstances, and you know what will happen to her when Spencer dismisses her.”
If she hadn’t found anything to report to Spencer, he likely would dismiss her. It would serve her right for throwing her lot in with a scoundrel and going up against a wiser opponent.
“Jasper, you do know what happens to female servants who are judged to be lacking in virtue, don’t you?”
“She isn’t a servant, she’s a—”
“She’ll never be a lady again, never be a companion again. She might be a governess, but every man in the house will consider her fair game.” Fiona put her finger to his chest. “You will walk away from this unscathed, but Annabel’s life will never be the same. Ever.” Tears welled in her eyes. “I thought you were better than this, Rabbit.”
Winning was only fun if the fight was fair, if the combatants were equally matched. Spencer was a fair target. Annabel was not. Just as Fiona, eager to prove herself part of the ton, hadn’t been.
He lifted his friend’s finger from his chest and kissed her hand before pulling her into an embrace. “I’ll see what I can do.”
*
Annabel stood in the center of her father’s London library and refused to fidget under Spencer’s unrelenting scrutiny.
“Two weeks, and you found nothing?” he asked.
“Nothing.” The lie surprised her, both by how easy it was and that she did it at all. The contents of the box under Jasper’s bed were suspicious enough to give Spencer a direction for his investigation, and to prove she had completed her assignment. To set her free.
Though freedom was less appealing than it had been two weeks ago.
“I never should have sent you.” Spencer prowled the space behind the desk, from bookcase to bookcase and back again.
“Given Elizabeth’s behavior, you definitely should have sent me.” He should have kept her at home.
“Yet you’re the one who was found in his room.” He glared at her. “In his arms.”
“Again. Elizabeth was foolish enough to accept an inappropriate dare—”
“So you say.”
“So it was,” she said through gritted teeth. “Were it not for me, your daughter would be ruined and forced to marry a man who considers her an annoying child.”
“Elizabeth says your inappropriate interest in Ramsbury goaded every young woman to misbehave.”
“You told me to learn everything about him.” It was more difficult to keep her voice level than it had been to lie. “I had to talk to him to do that.”
Spencer put his hands flat on the desk. “And in doing so, you fell victim to his charms.”
The only thing she’d fallen victim to was this scheme, and possibly one concocted by Charlotte Bainbridge. “I took advantage of your daughter’s foolishness and searched his room.”
Dearest Jasper… What sort of spy started a letter like that? Cardiff, Spain, London. Missions. What sort of spy was that open about their plans?
“And you found nothing?”
“I found ancient account books and love letters from his mistress.” Annabel blinked. “Nothing useful.”
“I see.” Spencer began pacing again, slower this time. “And now, thanks to his behavior while you were in his room, you are no longer free to move in his circles, even on the periphery.”
Annabel fought the urge to drop into the chair behind her. She’d explained away Jasper’s actions as rash and provocative, and she’d been terrified that he’d see through her bravado and realize what she was doing. She’d never considered that his behavior was purposeful, that he’d ruined her reputation simply to thwart her efforts.
“Unless you marry him.”
This time, she did drop into the chair with an unladylike bounce. “What?”
“Lady Lambourn has a reputation for propriety, especially given her family’s history.”
History? “I’ve heard nothing scandalous of the Chitester family.” Annabel felt the need to defend Amelia, who had remained a true friend despite all that occurred. “And Baron Kilverstone is—”
Spencer waved her protest aside. “She will insist Ramsbury offer for you to save the family from scandal. He will do it, gambling that you’ll refuse.”
“He would be right.” She wouldn’t marry Jasper Warren even if he really had compromised her.
A traitorous warmth spread over her chilled skin. It had happened all week whenever she thought of that night in his room, the way he’d handled her.
“And you would be wrong.” Spencer sat in her father’s chair. “He will not be able to hide everything, all the time, if you are under his roof.”
Neither would she. “And when he discovers the truth?”
“You would not be the first, or last, Society couple to live separate lives.” Spencer’s eyes were wildly bright. “And at least you would not worry for money or a home.”
As though Jasper would provide an allowance to any wife who had defrauded him. Not that she would be that wife. This scheme was insane. “No, Mr. Spencer. I won’t do it.”
