Crawford was a good man and unfailingly honest. But Jasper was glad Crawford and his wife would quit their newly purchased estate, and the district, to visit his family soon. He wouldn’t be much of a companion during the summer anyway as he had a wife to amuse these days.
He looked about the room and then breathed a sigh of relief. The governess Nash had hired, who kept turning up for every family dinner lately, must have scurried off to bed. Probably for the best. Mrs. Sophie Radcliffe was deficient in good humor. He’d never met a woman who irritated him as much. Radcliffe’s disapproving expression whenever they met spoke volumes of her true feelings about his presence. With her gone from the drawing room, Jasper could at least spend the night drinking rum in peace. This was to be his last evening amid family for quite a while, after all. The duke and Nash would go to secure a wealthy duchess and Stratford and his bride were leaving too. By tomorrow’s luncheon, he’d be all alone.
What the devil was he going to do to amuse himself here for so many months?
Jasper collected a glass of rum, downed it, refilled the glass, and backed straight toward his favorite chair to sip the rest and think.
He heard a woman’s squeak of protest as he dropped blindly into the chair and landed where he ought never want to be—on the governess’ lap.
“Bloody hell!” Jasper cursed as he scrambled up and spun to face Radcliffe. “What the devil are you doing sitting in my chair?”
“I was here first.” The governess fanned herself vigorously. “Minding my own business until you came to squash me.”
Mrs. Sophie Radcliffe, a plain woman in an even plainer gown, who spent her time ordering other people’s children about, always spoke to him in a way that suggested it was beneath her dignity. She was prickly, disagreeable, and as prim as they come. Traits that instantly repelled Jasper and yet challenged him to needle her. She sat in his favorite chair, thin fingers holding a faded shawl clutched tight about her shoulders, a few strands of her hair falling out of an inelegant bun as usual, and simply stared at Jasper…obviously waiting for him to remember his manners and apologize.
However, around Sophie Radcliffe, he’d not the slightest urge to be at all gentlemanly. She brought out every instinct in him to do his worst and drive her away from Ravenswood Palace. The last governess had been much older, but her presence had never bothered him in the least. Only this one seemed to get under his skin. “I would never squash a lady.”
“But you would a governess?”
He remembered his rum and took a sip before answering. “I have never given governesses much thought. One way or the other.”
Her eyes narrowed. “I’m sure you’ve many other more important interests. It’s clear they were on your mind tonight instead of watching where you were going.”
“Is there a problem?” Nash asked, suddenly beside Jasper and frowning as he glanced at each of them.
“No.” Jasper did not bother to explain the conversation to his brother. Nash had become too defensive of the woman he’d hired lately for his taste. It was entirely Nash’s idea to bring the governess out of the nursery so often of late, too. No one else thought of it or her.
Mrs. Radcliffe offered Nash a warm smile. “Everything is perfect, thank you. I was just telling Lord Jasper about your sons’ many accomplishments. They are so clever. Such perfect little gentlemen. Excellent manners. They must get that from their father.”
She smiled and blathered on a bit more and Jasper tuned her words out, to watch his brother lap up every bit of praise she uttered for his offspring, including the oft-repeated hope that Nash would visit the nursery to say good night to them.
“Perhaps. Do excuse me,” Nash murmured, but likely would not oblige her in that, of course. Nash stayed well clear of the third floor, and his children.
Nash went away, back to the duke’s conversation and the rum, and Mrs. Radcliffe’s smile dropped from her face immediately. She turned colder eyes on him. “I am still waiting for an apology.”
“Everyone knows that is my seat,” Jasper protested.
The governess’ eyes widened, and she examined the chair she was sitting on with exaggerated interest. “I do not see your name engraved on it. You ought to get a little plaque affixed to the headrest, perhaps. Something of substance to declare your superior ownership. The children are fortunate to have their names on their door already. You should ask your brother for the same.”
Jasper scowled at the suggestion he was being childish about the chair, but everyone ought to know by now that he always sat there after dinner. Radcliffe was not above reminding him subtly that he was not the duke, too. Some governesses were said to never speak their minds, let alone attempt to say anything provocative. Trust Nash to have hired the one woman with a wealth of opinions she only cared to share with Jasper.
In fact, to everyone else, Sophie Radcliffe was perfectly civil. Not even Stratford’s endless chatter seemed to get on her nerves.
He was composing a suitable response to ensure he got in the last word tonight when a hand settled on his shoulder. Stratford, of course. Stratford knew the latest governess got on his nerves and had taken an interest in keeping them apart, or at least civil of late. Jasper scowled at his brother for the interruption.
Stratford merely grinned at him. “You know, you’re becoming as blind as me. I almost never see what’s right in front of me. Just ask my wife.”
“She was behind me,” Jasper ground out. “I don’t have eyes in the back of my head.”
“Poor Mrs. Radcliffe,” Stratford said solicitously to the governess. “Assaulted by my brother’s backside so early in the evening. You must be so traumatized by the ordeal. I shall fetch you a glass of sherry to cheer you up.”
Jasper caught his brother’s arm before he could rush off. “Have I ever told you that you talk too much?”
“Frequently,” Stratford answered, grinning stupidly. “It’s my most endearing quality.”
Jasper released his sibling’s arm with a fond laugh. He found it impossible to keep a bad mood around his younger brother, and Stratford likely knew that, too.
The governess cleared her throat. “Never fear, Lord Stratford. I will swiftly recover once your brother finds his misplaced manners,” she vowed, giving him a look that said, oh just get it over with. “Perhaps if he has a moment to gather his thoughts, he could compose one while you fetch me that drink you promised.”
Jasper scowled at the governess. Who was she to order his brother, a lord, away?
But Radcliffe ignored him and had her lips pressed together tightly again in the way she always seemed to. A pity she couldn’t find even Stratford amusing, because she was vastly improved in looks whenever she smiled. Jasper had seen her laugh once with his brother’s children. The transformation had been an utter shock. She had looked lovely and almost enticing for an entire minute. Yet carefree laughter was reserved only for her young charges.
Stratford mumbled something unintelligible and went off to fetch her the drink.
Jasper inclined his head to the governess. “Forgive my carelessness tonight, Mrs. Radcliffe. Perhaps you would be more comfortable, closer to the warmth of the fireplace. Perhaps I could fetch a blanket for your knees, too.”