“Is it true?” Elizabeth asked.
She blinked. Surely she had misheard. “I am afraid I do not understand.”
“You are going to marry Papa,” Anne said, excitedly clapping her hands.
Marriage? To Jasper Sutton?
“Will you be our mama now?” Elizabeth asked.
“I do not know where you obtained such a notion, my dears,” she said softly, not wishing to douse the girls’ happiness and yet needing to set the matter straight. “But your father and I are not getting married.”
Indeed, he had a lovely blonde woman he was intent upon marrying. The reminder was both unwanted and unhappy. A searing sensation in her breast—surely not jealousy—took her by surprise.
“Girls, go and find Auntie Pen for a moment, won’t you?” Jasper said.
“But Papa—” Anne began.
“Now,” he interrupted, his tone firm.
After exchanging a glance of displeasure, the girls fled the room hand in hand, leaving Octavia alone with Jasper.
Jasper. How odd to think of him so intimately. And yet, he had told her to. She had spent the night in his bed. Where had he slept? She wondered. Her mind was whirling with the consequences of the previous night’s misadventures.
Irritated, she rose to her feet, wi
ncing at her ankle and yet determined to remove herself from this chamber and this gaming hell at once.
“I cannot fathom how your daughters arrived at such a ludicrous notion, but you truly ought to tell them the truth,” she said, moving past him toward the door Anne and Elizabeth had recently exited.
“Wait, minx.”
Minx.
She did not want to like the way the word sounded in his deep voice. Like a caress, sliding over her skin. She had to fortify her defenses against him. When Jasper Sutton chose to be charming, it was difficult indeed to deny him.
His hand on her arm had a staying effect.
She turned to find him just behind her, the three buttons at the top of his shirt undone to reveal his chest. Newly opened, she wondered, or had she merely failed to notice earlier?
“What do you want, Sutton? I need to go before my family discovers me gone.”
“They already know you are here,” he said, shocking her.
Dread was a stone lodged behind her breastbone. “How?”
“I sent word to Winter.”
For the second time since she had risen that morning in Jasper Sutton’s bedchamber, Octavia was certain she had misheard. “You…”
“Sent word to your sister’s husband, letting them know I have you.” His gaze searched hers.
“You have me,” she repeated.
Surely he did not intend to hold her captive here at his gaming hell? She searched that unreadable hazel stare for answers.
Did he?
“You’re trouble. I’ll not have you falling from any more trees. This time your ankle, next time your damned neck.”