Pride and Pleasure

“An hourglass.”

“Interesting. To whom does that seal belong?”

“I’ve no notion. But there is another one…” He dug into the pile at his feet and withdrew a second letter bearing the same image in black wax. “See here.”

He opened the letter, dropping the others to the floor in the process. As he read, he frowned. Then, he grew very pale.

“What is it?” she asked, alarmed.

“It appears to be a threat of violence”-Melville held the letter out to her-“against you.”

Chapter 14

Standing, Jasper set both palms flat on Eliza’s desk and surveyed the five open letters spread out before him. They were obviously all penned by the same female hand. The delicate swirls and flowing script were clearly the handiwork of a woman.

He glanced up at Melville and Eliza, both of whom sat in chairs facing him. “Are there more?”

“Those were all we could find,” Eliza said, looking remarkably composed.

“Do you have any notion of when the first of these arrived? Or the last?”

She shook her head.

Jasper’s fingertips drummed on the desktop. “This changes everything.”

“Yes,” she murmured. “It certainly does.”

Each missive warned Melville to retire with Eliza to the country or she would pay the consequences, completely contradicting Eliza’s original assumption that she was being pushed toward matrimony.

He looked at the earl. “Would you, perchance, be able to assist with the procurement of a Special License?”

Eliza jolted visibly. “Beg your pardon?”

“Special License?” the earl asked, frowning and scratching his head. “Who’s getting married?”

“I will take that as a ‘no.’” Jasper was certain Melville’s hair was even more of a fright today than it had been the previous times he’d seen it. “Perhaps Westfield can be useful in that regard.”

“Jasper.” Eliza no longer looked placid. “What are you about?”

Straightening, he set his hands on his hips. “It appears there’s a woman out there who perceives you to be a threat. It’s likely she has an interest in one of your suitors.”

“An unhealthy interest.”

“One can only hope that it’s Montague who has enamored her to the point of violence.”

She shot him an arch look.

His smile was unapologetic. “Regardless, taking you out of competition could likely remove you from danger straightaway.”

“Perhaps the news of my engagement will suffice, if we give it a chance to spread?”

“I would rest easier if you and I resided under the same roof.” In truth, he doubted he would rest at all if they shared a bed, but that was a topic for another discussion.

Melville nodded. “Quite right. I’ve proven to be unsuitable for the task of protecting you.”

Eliza’s gaze dropped to her lap.

“Eliza.” Jasper made every effort to keep his voice modulated. “I should like to hear your thoughts on the matter.”

She took a deep breath. “I’m not prepared to leave Melville at this time.”

“Is he your only concern?”

Her head lifted. “Am I overlooking something else?”

“No.” He relaxed. “I could take up residence here with you until the end of the Season. As your husband.”

The softness that stole into her eyes when she looked at him was worth far more than the concession deserved, but he wouldn’t complain about that.

“Would you?”

“I will do whatever you need.”

“Thank you.” Her smile lit up the room.

A surge of adrenaline pushed through him. Eliza would be his within the week. “Make whatever arrangements you need, but please avoid leaving the house whenever possible.”

She nodded.

“I will see to my end of things.” He cast one last glance at the letters laid out before him. Fury resurfaced with biting swiftness. He would find the author of the threats and ensure that the culprit never posed a hazard to Eliza again.

Marriage would not be the end of his hunt.

Jasper urged his horse away from Lambeth Palace. He cast a final look at the brick gatehouse and Lollard’s Tower, then set his hand lightly over the Special License tucked into his coat’s inner pocket.

Drawing abreast of him, Westfield said, “You have yet to tell me precisely what the letters said. Since their contents incited our mad rush to the archbishop, you have to know I’m overset with curiosity.”

“The missives were brief. A few lines each, almost in rhyme, with the same admonishment to retire from the city. Two made indirect references to sidesaddles and the Serpentine, both of which relate to accidents Miss Martin experienced.”

“Nothing about the falling statue at the Royal Academy? Perhaps it was an accident.”

“Perhaps. I’m at a disadvantage in many respects. I don’t know if the letters arrived before the events, which might suggest violence was not the culprit’s first choice. Or if the letters arrived after the fact and served as taunts.”

“Written by a woman, you say?” Westfield whistled. “There is some sense in that. A man who wished to prevent her from marrying could simply compromise Miss Martin.”

“I doubt she would have conceded, despite the damage to her reputation. She has an aversion to being managed and a limited appreciation for Society’s mores.”

“Truly?” The earl tugged the brim of his hat down as a shield against the late afternoon sun. “The more I learn of her, the more I like. Who would have thought a spinster’s sixth Season would cultivate such drama and intrigue?”

“Which begs the question: why now? Melville’s correspondence has been accumulating for years. His housekeeper was able to present a small trunk of past letters, and there were no threats prior to this Season.”

“I assume you won’t be abandoning your work in favor of a honeymoon?”

The mention of a honeymoon was all it took to fill Jasper’s mind with lascivious thoughts. “If only I were so fortunate.”

“You are extremely fortunate.”

Jasper’s brows rose. “Oh?”

“You knew precisely what you wanted, and made certain you attained it.”

Directing his gaze forward, Jasper pondered the somber note in the earl’s normally droll tone. “Is all well with you, my lord?”

“Of course. Nothing is ever wrong in my world, Bond. There are no surprises. No challenges. Equanimity rules the day.”

“There is something to be said for that.”

“Yes, it’s boring.”

Laughing, Jasper urged his mount into a canter, leaving the Thames behind. There was a great deal to be done before he could end the day. “You are welcome to stay in my world for a while longer, if you prefer. Never a dull moment.”

“Wait until you’re married,” Westfield drawled.

Jasper entered his house to the sound of raucous laughter floating out of the downstairs parlor. Behind him,