Historical Romance May 2017 Books 1 - 4. Bronwyn ScottЧитать онлайн книгу.
her?’
‘It’s the least I can do.’ He reached out and took hold of the mantel, leaning hard against his hand, hesitant to go on, but he had to. Maybe if she could forgive him he could at last forgive himself. ‘I was there the night Mr Robillard lost everything. I was the one who extended him credit, allowing him to continue playing, deeper and deeper until there was nothing left. I’m the one who drove him to ruin and to kill himself.’
She slipped her hand in his free one, squeezing it gently instead of offering him useless condolences or trying to convince him the planter’s death wasn’t his fault. Her silent patience allowed him to continue.
‘After Mr Robillard killed himself, I tried to convince Uncle Patrick to return the plantation to Mrs Robillard, but he wanted to be Lord of the Manor and he wasn’t going to let right or wrong get in the way of his dream. It was the first time I realised how cold he really was. Afterwards, I stormed out of his house, ready to be through with him because he wasn’t who I wanted to be and it wasn’t how I wanted to live. I didn’t see him again until a few weeks later when the fever was destroying the town and his maid came to tell me he was ill. I went back to his house to take care of him, expecting to find him more humble and repentant.’
‘But he wasn’t.’
Jasper shook his head. ‘He blamed me for his illness. Said I could have made sure there was food in the house before there was none to be had, paid the nurse and the maid more money to stay, taken care of him the way he’d taken care of me during my illness the year before.’
‘And still you stayed to see to him.’
He let go of her hand and tugged off the ruby ring. ‘I couldn’t let him die like a lonely dog, even if he did it while cursing me for betraying him and everything he’d ever done for me.’ He turned the ring between his thumb and forefinger. ‘After the quarantine ended, I returned the plantation to Mrs Robillard, but with everyone dead there was no one to work it and the land couldn’t support her or her children. By helping her I’m trying to make up for what Uncle Patrick did to them and convince myself I’m nothing like him.’
She cupped his chin and turned his face to hers. ‘You are nothing like him.’
‘Aren’t I?’ He pulled away from her and pinched the ring between his fingers, pressing on it so hard he hoped the metal would bend and the stone would shatter. ‘All the years I was with Uncle Patrick, I did everything I could to emulate him, wilfully refusing to see what he was or what it made me. Then, when I had the chance to walk away from it, I came home and went right back to being a hell owner.’
‘Then give it up, now, tonight.’ She laid a settling hand on his shoulder. ‘Turn it all over to Mr Bronson and walk away. Stop allowing it to destroy you and us.’
He slid the ring back on his finger as a different fear smothered him. The image of a narrow and dark bedroom stinking with sickness and the thick southern air rose up to blot out Jane, while the weakness of hunger and the uncertainty of survival ripped at his gut once more. ‘I can’t.’
She plucked her hand off of him. ‘What do you mean you can’t? If it’s tormenting you this much, you must.’
He glanced at the study door, remembering where they were and who might stumble in on him. He dropped his voice and stepped closer to her. ‘You don’t know what it is like to go without, Jane, to be starving and not be able to buy food, not to be able to escape the death and poverty around you. If I give up the hell and the club fails, we could lose everything.’
‘It would never be so dire. We have our families to help us.’
‘Not if they find out who I really am.’ Chester Stilton’s threat echoed in the silence. Uncle Patrick had concealed his real rottenness for years, but it hadn’t lasted, and neither had the glamour and gain of the gambling room, or even Jasper’s secrets. He touched her cheek, tracing the delicate line of it. ‘I won’t see you suffer the way I saw so many others suffer in Savannah.’
She covered his hand with hers. ‘We’re stronger than this, Jasper, strong enough to face anything thrown at us, but only if we do it together. The hell is pulling you away from me and it will continue to do so unless you give it up.’
‘If we lose the money from the hell, we’d be poor in months.’
‘We can live off my inheritance.’
‘I won’t ruin you.’
‘It’s worth the risk if it helps you.’ She brushed a few strands of his hair off his forehead. ‘Besides, I don’t need fancy jewellery. I only need you.’
He stroked the line of her jaw with his thumb. She was offering him a real chance to be a better man and it increased his guilt. He should have confided in her sooner, drawn her closer instead of trying to keep her away. She was an exceptional woman who deserved respect and love.
Love.
He didn’t say it, but it was there in his eyes as he gazed at her. He did love her and she loved him, but it wasn’t enough. Not even the bonds of family had been able to stop Jasper and Uncle Patrick from falling out, especially when things had turned dire. If he and Jane lost everything, she’d blame him for their misfortune the way Uncle Patrick had blamed him for his. ‘Don’t you understand? I’m doing this for you.’
Jane lowered her hand and stepped back, a loss of hope to remind him of Mrs Robillard filling her eyes. ‘You’re choosing the hell and all the lies and troubles it entails over me and our marriage.’
‘No, Jane, you’re wrong.’ He reached for her hand, but she jerked it back.
‘I’m not. I’ve done all I can to establish the club, but in your mind it’s already sunk before we’ve even opened it.’
‘I didn’t say that. I want out of the hell, but I can’t see the men I employ plunged back into poverty, or risk losing my ability to help Mrs Robillard and her children, and I refuse to place our security or our futures in jeopardy.’
‘And what future would that be? I’ve spent most of this evening fooling your family about our livelihood and about us, and you’ve gone days doing the same to me. You think I don’t know you’re keeping things about the hell from me, things that are bad enough to make you lose sleep and to ask for separate rooms?’
‘I’m doing it to protect you.’
She raised a finger at him. ‘Lie to yourself as much as you wish, but I told you the day we were betrothed I didn’t want you to conceal things from me, or embarrass me the way Milton did with your secrets and deception, and yet that’s all you’ve done. Do you know what it was like to stand before Mr Steed and sign the draft, not knowing if I was giving him permission to send money to your lover? I don’t want to sit around wondering where the next unpleasant surprise will come from or when I’ll be humiliated by you again. The Jasper I used to adore never would have done this to me.’
‘You’re right. He wouldn’t have, but that Jasper is gone. He died in Savannah.’ At one time, he’d wondered who would appear to destroy her faith in him and in the end it hadn’t been anyone but himself. He’d been a fool to think he could return here and redeem himself, and now Jane saw him for the ruined and blighted man he really was. He waited for her to curse him, to rail against him, but she simply stared, as lost today as the morning of her parents’ funeral. He’d comforted her then; he couldn’t do it tonight because he was the one making her grieve.
The fast fall of footsteps in the hall punctuated the silence between them before Giles burst into the room. ‘Jasper, we need you in the sitting room. It’s an emergency.’
Without a word to Jane, Jasper followed Giles out of the room, cursing the interruption. The moment to draw Jane back to him, to find a way out of this mess, had slipped away, taking with it so many things. ‘What’s happening?’
‘Someone Father refused for a loan is here. He’s not happy and he won’t leave.’
‘Why