“If you fight the ton for every insult, we’ll never be invited anywhere respectable again.” It touched her that he would be concerned over her feelings, but there were more practical considerations, such as the effect of their behavior on their sisters. “We expected this, though not quite so blatant.”

Truthfully, she suspected Chippenham was foxed and wouldn’t remember the conversation tomorrow. Though his foot would likely be swollen. Her heel still throbbed. Dancing slippers were not made for self-protection.

“That’s why you stomped on his foot, then? To protect your honor?” He dipped his head to meet her eyes again, and his lopsided smile made her heart stutter. “Because that is a husband’s duty, Annabel.”

It would be so easy to get accustomed to him, to the feelings he stirred in her, to the life that would be possible with him. However, once he learned her purpose in his household, it would all disappear. All she could hope was that her sisters were married and that he’d keep an annulment quiet for the sake of his family.

“But who protects you?” Annabel asked. “He stood there and implied that you took advantage of me in your home, while I was there as less than a guest and entirely dependent upon you. I will not have that.” She kept her eyes on his. “If that is not a wife’s duty, then it should be.”

“Thank you.” He raised her knuckles to his lips, and his breath skimmed her skin. “I shall do my best to avoid the duke at the club tomorrow. Which reminds me, your father sent a letter asking me to meet with him tomorrow, but he wants it to be us alone. Is there something I should know?”

Her father wanted money. He wouldn’t ask for it outright, but he would call it a loan and promise to repay it once his luck had changed, which it was certain to do this time. “Before we married, he mentioned speculating on a mine.” Annabel found it easier to talk in the shadows with Jasper’s warm, strong hand in hers. He had negotiated their marriage with her alone. Perhaps he would listen to her again. “Tonight in the retiring room, I heard a young lady, Miss Thorn, I believe, discuss how her chosen beau was not her family’s choice because of his lack of fortune, but that was about to change because he was about to make his fortune in coal.”

“It has been the talk of White’s,” Jasper said. “Why does this scheme bother you?”

“Would you offer an interest to a spendthrift baron and a young man with no fortune? Especially when there are rumors of renewed unrest amongst the Welsh miners?”

Her husband shook his head, staring at her like she’d sprouted another eye. “How do you know that?”

“I read it in the newspaper.” Annabel sighed. She was tired of having men think she was odd for reading. “Whoever is involved is using greed and desperation to dig yet another, likely useless, hole in Wales.”

“Someone should look to the slate they shift for the holes,” Jasper said. “If he was trying for a stake in a slate pile, I’d be tempted.”

“Slate would be wise. If you could produce shingles inexpensively, they would be a prime building material. But buy your own stake.” It was Annabel’s turn to search out his gaze, to make sure he understood her. “My father will never be happy with a small profit or a modest success, and he will not repay you.” They had lost just as many friends from his empty promises as they had from poverty itself.

“You are the most unusual woman I have ever met,” Jasper whispered as he drew closer.

His lips touched her forehead before his breath fanned her eyelids, coaxing them to close. He kept one hand in a gentle prison while he cradled her jaw with the other. All the while his lips traced the length of her nose to reach her mouth. The warmth of his kiss shaped her lips until they were clinging to his, which gave her a chance to feel his smile.

Jasper’s thumb swept from her ear to her chin and back at a seductive pace that warmed her tongue until it was heavy in her mouth and opening for him was a relief. He licked his way into her mouth, stealing her breath and replacing it with his own. The touch of his tongue was a shock, and he allowed her a moment of withdrawal before he pursued her again, teasing hers to dance.

His deep, shuddering groan heated her through until she was panting against the stays of her corset and the fabric was touching her where she wanted his hands to be.

The carriage rocked to a stop, and the cold evening rushed through the open door. “Your lordsh—Oh, I’m…I’m…so-sorry.”

Jasper rested his forehead against hers, and his harsh breath fanned her skin. “It’s fine… Frederick?” He whispered the footman’s name and, when Annabel nodded, repeated it louder. “Give us a moment, please.”

Once they were alone, he kissed her softly before moving away. His eyes were glassy, and his lips were wet, but otherwise he was untouched as he stepped from the coach and reached back for her.

His hand left hers only to curve against her back as they climbed the shallow steps to the front door. Annabel’s heart pounded in time with her feet.

Stapleton opened the door and offered an envelope to Jasper. “This was left for you, your lordship.”

Jasper frowned as he took it, and the expression remained, possibly darkened, as he read the letter inside. When he raised his eyes, they were a deep blue that hinted at secrets and shadows. “I have to go out.” He kissed her fingers, but her gloves put the first sliver of distance between them. “Don’t wait up.”

Annabel felt the loss of him keenly, but she wasn’t going to cling to him on the threshold. “Please be safe.”

His smile was as brief as his nod as he reversed direction, leaving her standing in the doorway. She watched until the carriage rocked around the bend crowded with trees and rosebushes.

Her lips still tasted of him as she entered the hall. Stapleton shoved the lock home, and the sound echoed through the quiet house as she climbed the stairs.

Barnes was waiting just inside her door. The maid urged her to the dressing table and removed the rubies before unfastening the dress. “Tell me everything, your ladyship.”

Annabel stared into the mirror as she recited the events of the evening. She left out smashing the Duke of Chippenham’s foot. She also didn’t mention the kiss in the coach.

As Barnes undressed her and combed her hair, Annabel considered that kiss and the note that had sent Jasper back out into the night. He hadn’t seemed reluctant to leave her, so perhaps she’d done something wrong. The kiss had been wonderful for her, even better than she’d imagined, but it didn’t necessarily follow that he felt the same. He had kissed many more women with more experience.

She slipped between the sheets and lay back on a mountain of pillows as Barnes pulled the sheets tight.

The other consideration was that the note was not from a lover but from a traitor to the Crown hoping to meet in the shadows to discuss a plot or provide information.

“Goodnight, my lady,” Barnes called as she carried the candles from the room and shut the door.

The firelight danced on the canopy overhead. Jasper’s rooms were quiet. The door between them remained locked.

“Please, God,” Annabel whispered, “let him be with a mistress.”

Chapter Ten

“In that white waistcoat, you might as well be a lighthouse,” Kit said as he pulled open the coach’s door. “And you came with livery?”

“Your note said it was urgent.” Jasper stripped to his shirt sleeves. After rolling them to his elbows, he snatched the lap blanket Annabel had used on their trip home and wound it around his shoulders, hoping to hide the glare of his starched shirt and keep the fog from soaking through his clothes. “I didn’t think to change for a visit to the dockyard.”

Kit cast an eye over the hasty disguise. “That will work so long as the gaslight doesn’t glint off your shoes.”

Jasper wasn’t scuffing his shoes for anyone. “What’s the game?”

Kit looked up at the driver, Lawrence. “Meet us in Hyde Park at the end of Upper Grosvenor, please.”

The mention of Spencer’s street made the walk from the docks to the park more appealing. Still, it was a lonely feeling to watch the easiest way home clatter over the cobblestones and into the shadows.

Home. Until a fortnight ago, Jasper had never thought twice about visiting sources under cover of darkness. Tonight, for a half-second, he’d considered shirking his duty to queen and country—and to Kit—to stay home with his wife. To continue kissing her until she unlocked the door between them and let him into her bed.

“Why are we on the docks in the middle of the night?” Jasper shoved his hands into his coat pockets, seeking what warmth he could find in clothes meant for indoors.

“Abel Collins came ashore from Cardiff a few hours ago.” Kit led the way across the rough streets and made their way to a shabby, but busy, pub. “He’s stopped in here, and as far as I know he hasn’t left.”

“Waiting for the party crowd to clear the streets, no doubt.” Balls went on into the wee hours, mostly because everyone in attendance could sleep until noon.

For years Jasper had teased his grandfather about leaving dances before midnight supper. But the longer he worked in Parliament, the more difficult it had become to keep up with things if he slept the day away. It was a fine balance between what he needed to do in the daylight and what he could learn by lurking in ballrooms.

Tonight, he’d been happy to ignore gathering useful intelligence to ride in Hyde Park alone with Annabel. She’d given him a piece of gossip in return—a mining scheme. Was it a coincidence that Kit was investigating a mine as well?

One of the things he respected the most about her was her mind. She’d proven it tonight with her ability to connect random conversations with something from the newspaper and make a clear decision.

Perhaps her review of his grandfather’s old journals hadn’t been as fruitless as he’d originally thought.