“Baron Chilworth. How are you?” He renewed his pursuit.

All day, something had itched at the back of his brain. It had begun in Lords, where he’d caught Raines staring a few times too often.

“I’ve just come from Patton’s, and he’s given me the good news,” Chilworth said. He was quieter now that he had to keep up with Jasper’s purposeful stride. “It’s an odd wedding gift, though. Most husbands give jewelry. I gave my lady wife a set that…”

Annabel’s eyes don’t light up over jewelry.

Jasper had followed Raines to White’s, where the younger man had joined a game of cards and Jasper chose a table with his back to the room, his face to a mirror. He’d reviewed his notes from the day and welcomed anyone who wished to speak with him, but the back of his neck prickled the entire time.

“And it’s just in time, as well—the mine stock offer is closing soon,” Chilworth said as he fell into step.

“The money will go to your creditors,” Jasper said as he checked his pace. It wouldn’t do to pass the young viscount on the street simply because he wished to be rid of Annabel’s father. If he had to double back, Raines would grow suspicious. He wasn’t daft.

“I’m sure many of them would be satisfied with a bulk payment and a note for the rest,” Chilworth said. He was huffing in his attempt to keep pace.

“Patton will make the payments to them personally,” Jasper snapped. “The money will not go into your hands.”

Having played cards with Raines on several occasions, Jasper respected his skill and his strategy. Today he’d watched him do it. His wagers were smaller than normal, and, though always taciturn, he’d spoken few words. He also stared at his cards too long on rounds where he folded. There was a secret there, but Jasper would have to catch him to find it.

“Oh, well then. At least it will free up capital for—”

Jasper stopped his pursuit and faced the baron, heedless of the crowd moving past them and who might hear. He wasn’t certain if the man was hapless or stubborn. Perhaps he was addled in some way. Surely no man this stupid could have a daughter as brilliant as Annabel.

Regardless, it was vital that Chilworth hear this conversation and grasp its meaning. “I have written to every banker in London, threatening to remove my money should they loan a penny to you without my approval. Which you will not have.”

The man’s eyes widened in his red, sweaty face. “See here! That’s overstepping.”

It likely was, but this man’s carelessness had pushed his daughter into more than one devil’s bargain. “Dear God, Chilworth. Will you not be happy until all your daughters are in service?”

“I did not send Annabel into service. She chose it to spite me.” The baron’s eyes flashed. “I told her to take one more Season and do everything she could to make a match.”

In Society, with outdated fashions and no dowry, throwing herself at any man who would have her like a bird flailing against a cage. Jasper had seen too many young ladies like that in ballrooms. He knew what men said about them, and he knew the offers they made. Chilworth did, too. It was there in the words he chose. Not a husband—a match.

“And look at her now. A marchioness.”

But not of her own free will. Not really. And—dear God—the man seemed to believe the gossip about his own daughter. “Do you realize how badly this could have gone for her? Or do you simply not care?”

“Look here, lad. You’ve no right to look down your nose at me for trying to better my lot.”

“I don’t look down on you for that, Chilworth.” Raines was almost to the end of the block, where he’d be lost in the shopping crowds. Jasper had wasted enough time on this foolish man who only thought of himself. “I look down on you because you were blind to what you already had.”

He left the man standing and threaded his way through the crowd. If Raines looked back, it would be impossible to hide his purpose.

The viscount reached his destination and removed his hat before entering Gunter’s.

Jasper had damn near broken his neck to follow a man who was going for ices. Kit would be laughing his arse off. If he were here.

Jasper again weighed proceeding against catching a cab and heading for home.

In for a penny…

He strolled by the window and glanced inside. Raines was escorting Charlotte Bainbridge to a table. Sometimes men said unguarded things to the women in their lives. Perhaps their conversation could be useful.

Men did not go into Gunter’s alone.

A tap on the window caught his attention. Fiona waved from her table in the sunshine.

Jasper strode into the shop and dropped his paper and hat to the table before bowing over her hand. “Thank you for waiting. I ran into a distraction on the street.”

She blinked for a moment before catching his game. “You’re lucky Mrs. Linden has the day off, or she would have pushed me out the door after five minutes in fear I’d look desperate for company.” She thrust his belongings at him and stood. “Let’s move to the back. This sun is warmer than I expected.”

Jasper led her to a table near enough to watch Raines but far enough to have an alibi.

“You got newsprint on my gloves,” Fiona groused. “Mrs. Linden will have to scrub them twice as hard.”

“You could wash them yourself.” He swept his eyes down the menu. “The sunshine was pleasant, I thought.”

“I’d rather not see Scandalized Socialite Seduces Marquess as tomorrow’s gossip headline.” She flicked a glance toward Charlotte. “I quite like Annabel, you know.”

Jasper winked at her. “So do I.”

The server came to take their order. Lemon for Fiona, and vanilla for Jasper.

“I’m glad to hear it, but your domestic bliss is cheating me out of ballroom gossip. Do you two do nothing but stay at home?”

“We just returned from Ramsbury.”

Fiona paused for a moment, nibbling her lip. “How are things?”

“You’ve spoken with Mother?” Her nod gave him permission to drop his guard. “Nothing much has changed since.”

He’d received one letter from Kit, but the message had only been about the progress in Wales. Claudette had charmed Gareth’s family, and their reconciliation had unified the Welsh constabulary’s pursuit of Collins.

Annabel had stopped paying Kit’s wages.

The pay had begun as a salve to his conscience. Kit hadn’t wanted it, but Jasper could think of nothing else to do for a man who insisted on walking through every door first, who dropped everything on a whim, and spent his time in unsavory crowds doing little but hiding in the dark.

Their ices arrived, and Jasper tucked into his. He didn’t particularly like vanilla, but there had been too many other choices, and his head was beginning to ache.

“This can’t be easy for him either,” Fiona said.

Jasper had been overwhelmed when he took his father’s title, and he’d been prepared for it since birth. Kit had been at his side, watching everything as an outsider, keeping his inheritance a secret while being employed by his cousin. “I’m sure it isn’t, but he hasn’t asked for help.”

Jasper had been paying his cousin to be his friend.

“I’m glad we could see each other today,” Fiona said. “Father is sending me to Paris again.”

What scrape had she gotten into now? “I thought Mrs. Linden was keeping you out of trouble.”