Jasper’s jaw tensed, as if he sensed her sudden confusion. The affection that had been in his eyes when they’d first reunited this evening was far less evident now. To her, the distance between them seemed almost tangible.
Regina cleared her throat. “Perhaps you might accompany me to the drinks table, Lord Westfield. My throat is dry.”
“Of course.” The earl shot a meaningful glance at Jasper, before leading Lady Collingsworth away.
Jasper stepped closer to Eliza. “How can I protect you when you deliberately put yourself in danger?”
“What danger? I met with Lord Montague in public, with Lady Collingsworth in attendance. Your men were certainly somewhere nearby. Or were they not? Is that why your mood is so foul?”
“You hired me to investigate your suitors. Then you meet with one privately to tell him he’s losing any chance of laying claim to your money, putting him in a desperate position!”
“What could he have done?”
“Abscond with you. Hold you for ransom. Anything.”
“Montague?” she scoffed. “A man of his station would not-”
“You don’t know him, Eliza, or what he is capable of.”
“And you do?”
“Stay away from him.”
Her brow rose. “Is that an order?”
Jasper’s jaw clenched. “Don’t turn this into a battle of wills.”
“You are attempting to limit my freedom. It’s unreasonable to expect me not to fight for it.”
He caught her by the elbows and tugged her scandalously close, as if they were alone and not surrounded on all sides by prying eyes. “I am attempting to keep you safe.”
“Your advice is duly noted.” Eliza knew she was goading his temper, but his clipped responses made her wonder if she wasn’t giving him precisely what he wanted. He seemed to be spoiling for a fight.
“You must heed me.” His eyes were so dark, they were nearly black.
“Your concern is unfounded. I foresee no occasion where Lord Montague and I would have cause to meet again outside of social settings.”
“Cause or not, I want you to keep your distance.” He released her. “From Tolliver, as well.”
Irritation swelled within her. “Tell me why.”
“Tolliver is not taking the news of our engagement well.”
“And Montague? He smiled when I told him and wished me happy.”
“He cares for no one’s happiness but his own.”
“And I’m just to take your word for this, with no explanation provided?”
“Yes.”
“Already exerting your husbandly right to control me in whatever manner you see fit?” Her grip on her fan tightened to the point that the wood creaked in protest.
“I will not allow you to turn a discussion about your safety into an argument about independence and the drawbacks of matrimony.”
“Won’t allow. I see. Is this acceptance and rejection of acquaintances reciprocal? Can I forbid you to meet with Lord Westfield?”
“You are deliberately baiting me.”
“I am simply attempting to discern where the boundaries are, and if they apply equally to both of us.”
“Westfield is no danger to anyone.”
“Maybe I know something you do not,” she challenged. “Of course, if I follow your example, I don’t have to share what I know with you.”
She looked away to hide the prickling of tears and saw Lord Montague approaching. Her shoulders went back.
“Miss Martin.” Montague kissed the back of the hand she extended to him, then released her with a stately dip of his head. He looked at Jasper. “Mr. Bond. May I extend felicitations to you?”
Jasper’s lips curved in a teeth-baring smile. “You may, my lord. I accept them with pleasure.”
Eliza knew the rigidness of her posture betrayed the op-positional nature of her conversation with Jasper, but she was too frustrated to care overmuch.
“Is it too much to hope, Miss Martin,” the earl said, “that you might still have room on your dance card for me?”
“The next waltz is yours.”
A tic in Jasper’s jaw filled her with acrimonious satisfaction.
She’d deliberately withheld the evening’s two waltzes. Not for Montague, but as a token gesture for Jasper. She had intended for her next waltz to be with him, even though it would take weeks for him to learn the steps and absorb them into memory.
“It appears I, too, am fortunate,” Montague said. “Although not to the same degree as you, Mr. Bond.”
“So it seems.” Jasper’s features were set in hard lines.
The orchestra played a few brief notes to alert the guests that the next dance would soon begin. Eliza gratefully excused herself and searched for her partner, Baron Brimley. As she moved away from the terrible tension emanating from Jasper, her breathing became easier. Reason returned to her, swiftly followed by regret. She disliked that they’d quarreled. Worse, she disliked herself.
Jasper watched Eliza walk away with undue haste and berated himself for sparking their first argument. He knew he had to tread lightly with her or risk her thrusting issues of money and independence between them, but he’d been discomfited into acting rashly. The surprise of learning that she’d met with Montague drove him to be harsh and unyielding, yet his ignorance was his own fault. Lynd had called upon him unexpectedly, and Jasper made the mistake of delaying the daily reports in order to accommodate his old mentor.
How could he have been so careless? He lived by rigid schedules and timetables for a reason-they kept things running smoothly and without startling incidents. Compounding his error by expelling the anger that should rightly have been self-directed only made the situation worse. He’d now caused a rift between him and Eliza that he could ill-afford.
“You have Byron’s brooding countenance mimicked to perfection,” Montague said. “I didn’t try that tactic when attempting to woo Miss Martin.”
Jasper’s head turned slowly, his expression altering to reveal no emotion whatsoever. He and his half-brother were nearly of a height. The similarities between them were numerous enough that Jasper shifted slightly to put more distance between them. “I cannot say I’m sorry you lost her to me.”
Montague smiled and rocked back on his heels, blissfully oblivious to the resemblance between them and the reason for it. “You are somewhat of a mystery, Mr. Bond.”
“Ask me what you want to know. Perhaps I’ll answer you.”
“How do you feel about coal?”
A ripple of satisfaction moved through Jasper. Could acquiring the information he needed be so easy? “It’s a necessity. Life would be miserable without it.”
“My thoughts exactly.” The earl’s smile turned into a grin. “I have a speculation you might find interesting.”
Jasper pushed Eliza from his mind and managed a smile. “You have the entirety of my attention, my lord.”
By the time the Earl of Montague collected Eliza for their waltz, her ire had vanished. Still, she was completely out of sorts. For the first time, she understood that she’d lived her life without conflict after her mother passed on. No one disagreed with her because there were no points of contention; she was not obliged to explain herself nor meld her viewpoint with anyone else’s. The result of her unchallenged independence was that she was sorely unprepared for arguments. Her entire body responded negatively to discord. She had a headache, and her stomach was upset, even though she was no longer angry.
“I’ve never seen you look lovelier, Miss Martin,” Montague murmured, as he set his hand at her waist.
“Thank you.” She stared at his cravat, noting its elaborate style and thick starching.
Montague had dressed flamboyantly in peacock blue velvet and a multi-colored waistcoat. His attire was far removed from Jasper’s more somber style, and yet the earl’s height and physical coloring were uncannily accurate substitutes for Jasper. The similarity caused Eliza to focus on how the earl made allowances for her shorter stature when an upraised arm position dictated it. He was a highly accomplished dancer, leading her expertly through the steps. She took mental notes for use in Jasper’s dancing lessons, grateful the preoccupation afforded her some respite from her emotional turmoil.