Page 12 of Adeline

Without thinking, Jasper pulled his hood forward, though there was little chance she could see him standing in the darkness between the stables and the house.

She let the drape fall back into place, and Jasper moved toward the house once more, rubbing the rain from his face and brushing at the sleeves of his cloak. Mrs. Hutchins would not be pleased if he tracked water across her clean floors.

Moving soundlessly through the garden and into the kitchen, Jasper allowed the warmth to banish the cold he hadn’t realized had set in. His fingers tingled from the drastic change in temperature, and his nose thawed as the savory scents of the kitchen wrapped him in a familiar embrace.

Jasper pushed Miss Adeline Price from his thoughts.

She would be gone soon enough, and everything would be as it had been for years.

“I sent me special duck pie ta the lady, m’lord,” Cook called from the open stove where she stirred a huge pot. “It be a rare occasion indeed that even the finickiest a eaters not be fall’n in love with me duck.”

Love? Why would Cook think to capture the woman’s love?

“She is a guest for only tonight.” Jasper frowned. “We will make certain to be gracious hosts, but that is all.”

“Yes, m’lord.”

He narrowed his stare on the woman. “What has come over you? Never have you called me ‘my lord’.”

Cook turned her attention back to the pot she’d been stirring. “Well, we ain’t never had a true London lady in the house neither.”

“Be that as it may, as I said, she is only a guest—an unexpected one at that—and she will be gone soon.”

“If’n ye say so, m’lord.”

Jasper only shook his head and continued toward the stairs. He’d been exhausted when he left the plant for the night, and that had been before they stumbled upon Miss Adeline’s stranded coach. Currently, he was uncertain how he still stood. A long night of sleep would prepare him for the work he’d need to accomplish when the sun rose. It would be no easy feat to collect Miss Adeline’s coach from the mud and bring it to his stables for repairs.

“A word, my lord,” Abbington said, as Jasper set his foot on the first stair.

He slowly turned toward his butler. “Yes, Abbington, and please, dispel with the formalities.”

The man cleared his throat before continuing. “Jasper.” His staff had called him by his given name since his parents’ deaths—possibly before. “Mrs. Hutchins and I are overjoyed at Miss Adeline’s arrival. We are also confused. It is highly improper to offer her shelter here…without a proper chaperone in residence.”

“I do not think there was much choice in the matter.” Jasper pushed his hood back and slammed his hands into his trouser pockets. “A storm is raging, and the roads were becoming less and less travelable. It was either bring her here or leave her to her fate. What would you have me do, Abbington?”

“Take her to Anderson’s shop.” Abbington put increased emphasis on each word.

But Jasper was not a dullard. He’d been well aware of the risks he’d undertaken bringing her to Faversham Abbey; yet, he’d been unable to tame his selfishness. For one night, he would not be alone at his estate, even if he never saw the woman or allowed her to see him, Miss Adeline was still in residence. It had been a long ten years since his aunt died. And his uncle passed only five short years later. Since then, he’d been alone at Faversham Abbey, the twenty bedrooms, four stories, and acres surrounding the manor had never felt as lonesome as they did in recent days.

“Do you assume I did not already think of that?” Jasper sighed, attempting to keep his irritation at bay. He knew his servants were only trying to protect him—and he was overly wary from his day at the plant. “Besides, it was closer to come to the Abbey as opposed to venturing back toward town.”

His butler’s brows rose in question. “If you say so, my lord.”

“I do.” Jasper started up the stairs again but paused. “And do not think your wife and I will not have words over her choice of chambers for Miss Adeline.”

“I cannot speak to my wife’s decisions, as you know, but she has shared with me she is worried about you—all alone here at Faversham.” The man fell into silence, knowing the limits to their relationship. No matter what happened in the place they both called home, Jasper was still his master. And he a mere servant. There were boundaries and societal expectations to be upheld.

Even if every day those lines were blurred more and more. “That I understand.”

Abbington was no more in control of his wife, Mrs. Hutchins, than Jasper was. Since his parents’ deaths—and later, his aunt and uncle’s deaths—the woman had been the only mother figure Jasper knew. In a way, his housekeeper was more familiar with his likes and dislikes than anyone. How was it only at times like this his apparent lack of companionship became overwhelming?

“Do see that Cook prepares adequate food for Miss Adeline to break her fast in the morning. It is a long journey back to London, and I will not have her arriving famished. I think the pheasant Cook was saving for supper tomorrow will do nicely. Please see to it.”

“Of course,” Abbington said with a chuckle.

Jasper had no urge to ponder why his butler found his demands comical or why he longed to impress Miss Adeline at all. She would return to London, and he would remain in Faversham—where he need not fear the penetrating stares and jeers of strangers.

After the damage caused by the fire that took his parents’ lives, Jasper had guarded himself with the assistance of his paternal uncle, Lieutenant Colonel Bartholomew Benedict, and his aunt, Alice. They hired tutors to see to his schooling at Faversham—everything from arithmetic to science to literature. Jasper had even been instructed in the modern styles of dance one would encounter in every London ballroom. Not that he’d ever actually taken to the floor with anyone other than his aunt Alice and Mrs. Hutchins.