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JASPER GAZED AROUND the maze. His friends were there, Margaret’s parents were there, and Lily was there.
Margaret however was not.
“Margaret is gone,” Jasper said.
“I don’t think it’s proper for you to refer to her by her given name,” Mrs. Carberry said primly.
Jasper inhaled.
They’d been in this bloody maze for too long.
He sighed. “Let’s return to the castle.”
Mrs. Carberry narrowed her eyes. “I hope you’re not trying to avoid this conversation.”
“Naturally not,” Jasper said, striving to keep his voice calm.
Because as tempting as it might be to tell Mrs. Carberry her flaws, she was going to be his mother-in-law. In fact, even though Jasper would have liked to have this discussion in a different manner, perhaps he should inform her.
“Mrs. Carberry, Mr. Carberry.” He inclined his head to each of them. He’d thought he might feel awkward, his throat might dry, and his chest might tighten. After all, he’d always thought marriage something to be wary of, categorized similarly to unfamiliar mushrooms and coastal walks in the dark. But he wasn’t feeling nervous now. The rest of his life was going to begin soon, and it was going to be glorious. “I am going to marry your daughter.”
Mrs. Carberry opened her mouth, then closed it. She shot a glance at her husband, as if fearing her hearing might have decided to fail her at this moment and usher in new words and phrases instead.
“E-Excuse me?” Mrs. Carberry asked finally.
Mr. Carberry beamed. “We’re going to get a son-in-law.”
“You certainly are,” Jasper said.
“I-I don’t understand,” Mrs. Carberry said.
“Perhaps my friend spoke too hastily,” Ainsworth said, joining him hastily.
“I did not speak too hastily,” Jasper said.
“B-But you protested,” Mrs. Carberry stammered before evidently realizing she was not exactly helping her cause.
“I did not defile your daughter,” Jasper said. “We kissed.”
“But you’ll still marry her?” Mr. Carberry asked, awe in his voice.
“Yes.”
Mr. Carberry widened his eyes.
“Now can we please return to the castle?” Jasper said impatiently, before Mr. Carberry might begin musing over his courtship of Mrs. Carberry. “I would like to formally propose to your daughter. I don’t know what she’s thinking now.”
Mrs. Carberry paled. “You’re correct. Let’s go.”
She marched forward, though soon returned with a sheepish expression on her face. “It seems that this is not the correct way.”
“Mazes are tricky,” Mr. Carberry remarked. “Just a place to send guests to when you don’t want to see them for a while.”
“We are all leaving.” Jasper turned to Lily. “Come, Lily.”
Lily wagged her tail and accompanied the others. They strode forward, came to a fork, then shot Jasper puzzled expressions.
Jasper raked his hand through his hair. He rather wished he’d spent more time entering and exiting the maze. He’d been so intent on finding a spot to be hidden with Margaret that he hadn’t paid sufficient attention on which route they’d taken.
“I think it’s this way,” Jasper said, choosing the path to the right.
It was not.
Finally, they exited the maze, and Jasper’s heart soared when the castle came into view.
He’d told them.
It was settled.
The rest of his life was truly going to begin soon.
Margaret would be surprised of course. He smiled, looking forward to proposing.
He wished he hadn’t torn apart quite so many roses the other night. They would have come quite in handy now. The musicians were scheduled to return in the evening. He wondered whether he might postpone the proposal until then.
He sighed. If only Margaret and he hadn’t been discovered. Romance took rather more time than he thought Margaret’s parents were willing to allot.
“Good afternoon, Powell,” Jasper told his butler as he entered the house.
“Good afternoon, Your Grace,” the butler said in a customary solemnity. His voice boomed in its consistently deep baritone, but his eyes flickered in a manner that was less customary, and Jasper halted.
“Is everything well, Powell?” Jasper asked. No doubt Powell had seen an upset looking Margaret enter the house. Undoubtedly the man’s gentle nature would be disturbed.
“I’m afraid Mr. Owens and Miss Carberry and Lady Juliet are—er—” He glanced at the others.
“Do proceed, Powell,” Jasper said. “No point prolonging it.”
“This isn’t the theater,” Mrs. Carberry said, managing to be unhelpful. At least she was acting in a consistent manner.
“Well, they’re gone,” Powell said finally. “Miss Carberry was helping Mr. Owens with a trunk. Naturally, I had a footman assist her, but I’m afraid the footman said she got into his carriage. Lady Juliet has also vanished.”
An unsettled feeling started in Jasper’s stomach. Why would Margaret have left with Mr. Owens?
“And where is the carriage now?” Mr. Carberry’s eyes flashed in a manner Jasper was unaccustomed to seeing.
Powell shrugged. “I’m afraid I do not know.”
“No doubt they were pleasure riding.” Mrs. Carberry shot a worried look at Jasper, as if he might renege on his proposal so quickly.
It would take much more for Jasper to retract his offer of marriage.
“I find it highly unlikely my daughter would go pleasure riding with a man she hardly knows. She shouldn’t go pleasure riding with any man. Even with her friend.” Mr. Carberry turned quickly to Powell with the air of an inspector. “Was Mr. Owens’ carriage a pleasure riding vehicle? Was it a—er—curricle? Or something of that nature?”
Powell’s eyes rounded, and he shook his head solemnly. “I’m afraid not, sir. I’m so sorry. I—er—should have stopped her. I didn’t know she intended to get into the vehicle.”
“It’s not your fault,” Jasper said quickly. “You didn’t know.”
Powell nodded. “But all the same, I’m sorry.”
Jasper was sorry too.
What on earth was Margaret thinking, going off with this Mr. Owens? The man was utterly unremarkable.
And yet...
Jasper remembered how Margaret had first spoken of Mr. Owens. Somehow, Margaret had managed to think him remarkable. Perhaps, despite everything, she favored Mr. Owens.
Because of Mr. Owens’ intelligence.
The thought leaped into his mind and clutched hold of it.
Jasper hadn’t thought Mr. Owens to be particularly intelligent, but perhaps that had simply been because of Jasper’s own lack of understanding of the topics that Mr. Owens enthused about.
His heart hammered. Perhaps the reason she’d run away was because she knew her mother would insist she marry Jasper. Margaret had protested against her mother’s allegations as well. He had thought Margaret was being overly polite, but perhaps he was wrong. Perhaps she’d desperately wanted not to be forced into a marriage with Jasper.
All of a sudden, Jasper’s legs jolted as if they’d been replaced with some newborn calf’s.
She’d left.
She’d vanished from his life, taking off with a practical stranger who had no castle, no title and possessed no handsomeness, rather than marry him.
He stared at the others, but their expressions had turned to sympathy.
Blast it.
When had he last seen Hammett looking sympathetic? The man was happiest smashing his fist into people’s faces.
“Wait!” Mr. Carberry scrunched up his face. “Are we saying that my darling daughter, my sweet, innocent girl, who has never given me a moment of trouble in the past, has run off with Mr. Owens? When she was minutes before kissing the Duke of Jevington?”
“That sounds correct,” the Duke of Brightling said politely.
Had Jasper been in less agony, he might have shot Brightling an irritated look. Instead, he only groaned.
Because Brightling was right.
That was what had happened.
He’d declared his love for this woman before her parents, and his friends, and it hadn’t mattered. He’d always scoffed at the notion of marriage, but he hadn’t considered that it might be beyond his capabilities to achieve.
Margaret had heard her mother speak of marriage.
She would have known if she’d stayed, they would marry.
And yet, she’d chosen to flee.
Away from him.
Forever.