Jasper shot her a glare. ‘Perhaps this is something we can discuss in private. Father.’ The emphasis was obvious, an attempt to stake a higher claim on their boss’s attention. And it made Tori’s blood boil.
To think she’d been starting to actually like the guy. Had confided in him. Found comfort in him.
Kissed him.
Grabbing her tablet and notes, she gave the earl a quick nod. ‘By all means. I wouldn’t want to come between family.’
And then she walked out of the office before she threw something at the Viscount Darlton’s far too gorgeous head.
* * *
‘Well. I think you’ve got some making up to do there,’ Jasper’s father said as they both watched Tori stalk out of the office. ‘I was hoping that some time away together would help you two find some common ground, build a friendship perhaps, but...’ He sighed. ‘So. Tell me why you think Tori is wrong about Stonebury Hall.’
An uncomfortable feeling settled in Jasper’s stomach. ‘I don’t think she’s wrong exactly.’ But that was what it had sounded like, he realised now. No wonder Tori had stormed off. ‘Stonebury could be all the things she thinks it could. But at its heart, that house is a home—and I know she felt it too. But she’s thinking about your property empire and her job. I’m thinking about our family. And your plans to ruin us.’
There was an echo of that desperate, clenching, wrenching feeling in his chest—the same one he’d felt when he’d first read his father’s email, thousands of miles and a few weeks away from there.
It’s time to be upfront and honest with the world. Felix deserves my acknowledgement as my son.
No consideration about what Jasper deserved and—more importantly—no thought of how it would affect his mother, the earl’s dutiful Lady Flaxstone for almost thirty years. His father was just doing whatever he thought was best, or simply whatever he wanted. Just as he’d done when he’d had an affair with Felix’s mother while engaged to Jasper’s.
Other people were the last thing the Earl of Flaxstone thought about.
The earl sighed again. ‘You’re still against me publicly acknowledging Felix as my son.’
‘Yes! Of course I am!’
‘I never realised the Flaxstone reputation mattered so much to you, Jasper. I would have thought, if you were so concerned about our legacy and your place in it, you might have stayed to help protect it personally.’ There was an edge to his father’s words now. One a younger Jasper would have swerved away from, made nice to avoid that sharpness of the earl’s temper.
But Jasper wasn’t a child any longer. He knew his own mind. And he knew when his father was just plain wrong.
‘I am deeply concerned about my mother’s well-being. I can’t stop you doing this—God knows, no one ever stopped you doing anything you wanted—but if you insist on making our private lives public then at least give Mother somewhere to take solace and refuge from the media chaos that will follow. Buy Stonebury, let her retire there until everything blows over.’ Jasper remembered those incongruous battlements and crenellations. That was what she needed. Protection. Defences. She’d never really had any of her own, and so Jasper would have to give her some.
‘If there’s any decency left in you, don’t drag her down with you,’ he said. Then he turned and walked out on his father, pushing past Felix as he appeared in the doorway.
‘Jasper?’ his one-time best friend said, but Jasper ignored him.
Felix’s paternity wasn’t his fault—Jasper knew that logically. But hiding the truth from him for so many years was. Felix had known the truth ever since his mother died, years before, and not told him. Jasper wasn’t ready to forgive that just yet. Not until he knew that his mother was protected.
At least he’d given his father something to think about. And now...now he was rather afraid he had to find Tori and explain himself. Maybe even apologise.
He pulled a face, even though there was no one to see it. He hated apologising.
Perhaps he’d make a stop for one of Henry’s pies, first. For the energy. After all, he’d asked Mrs Rawkins, the cook, to put one on to warm for him before they went to meet his father. It would be a shame for it to go to waste, and Tori would probably take a little time to calm down, anyway.
He veered left, down the corridor that led to the kitchens, and took a moment to appreciate the aroma of steak and ale pie, wafting towards him. Yes, this was definitely the right decision.
Then he walked in, and saw Tori lifting a forkful of his pie to her mouth. He froze. She gave him a wicked grin, then ate the mouthful right in front of him.
‘Mmm...’ she said, licking her lips. ‘Delicious. Shame there’s hardly any left.’
‘Henry gave us two pies.’ Jasper shot an accusing look at Mrs Rawkins, who folded her arms across her ample chest.
‘Don’t you give me that look. Tori told me everything.’ Sadly, Mrs Rawkins had known him for his whole life, and any respect she’d had for his title or station had long since faded away in a litany of stolen food, broken plates, and his and Felix’s teenage attempts to fix themselves food when returning late from the pub.
‘What, exactly, did she tell you?’ Jasper asked. And when had Tori got Mrs Rawkins on her side anyway? He shook his head. ‘Never mind, I can imagine.’ Probably the truth as she saw it, embellished to make him out to be as evil as possible.
Tori deserved to know the real truth—about his family, his father, his half-brother, and why he was acting the way he was. She was stuck in the middle of it all, another pawn in his father’s game, and he owed her the full story, however hard it was to tell it.
But more than that, he wanted her to know. Because he couldn’t bear her looking at him again the way she had when they were in his father’s office. Not when she’d finally started to look at him differently, while they were away.
And who knew? Maybe it would even do him some good to have someone to talk to about the whole sordid affair. Although, if his father got his way, soon he’d be able to discuss it with the whole world.
The thought didn’t cheer him at all.
He looked at Tori, who was happily cutting herself another piece of pie. ‘I don’t suppose you’re going to share that, are you?’
Tori shook her head as she chewed another mouthful, her expression blissful. ‘Nope. But, like you say, there’s another one.’
‘In the freezer,’ Mrs Rawkins added. ‘Take hours to cook now, that will.’
Jasper sighed, and sank into the chair opposite Tori to watch her eat his pie.
‘Fine,’ he said. ‘Consider me punished. But when you’re finished, perhaps you’ll do me the courtesy of letting me explain myself.’
Tori’s eyebrow’s shot up in obvious surprise. ‘Okay,’ she said, after a moment of chewing. ‘When I’m done.’
‘Great.’ Jasper sank back in his chair and prepared to endure his punishment.
CHAPTER EIGHT
HENRY’S PIES WERE always delicious, but watching Jasper’s pained expression as she ate it in front of him made the whole dining experience even more sublime for Tori.
Eventually, she set her cutlery down on her empty plate, thanked Mrs Rawkins—who had been a dear ally ever since she’d discovered that Tori knew her way around a kitchen and could be a big help when there was an event on and not enough trained hands on deck—and turned to Jasper, her arms folded across her middle.
‘Okay. Explain.’
And it had better be something more convincing than, I’m a poor little rich boy who always got everything I want so I don’t know any better.
‘Not here.’ Jasper’s gaze darted around the kitchen furtively, as if he thought Mrs Rawkins might intervene or take sides—which she’d totally already done, so it seemed a bit pointless. ‘Let’s go take a walk by the river.’
‘Yay. More snow and ice,’ Tori replied, lett
ing the sarcasm flow. But, actually, the kitchens were warm and stuffy, and she could do with walking off some of that pie before she fell into a food coma, so she followed him all the same.
They paused in the boot room to grab hats, gloves, scarves, warm coats and walking boots—all the things Tori wished they’d had with them when they were stranded on the moors. Maybe then they could have escaped to somewhere other than the Moorside Inn. Anywhere else would have been ideal.
Not just because of having to see Aunt Liz and Uncle Henry again. If she was honest, having that time with them had been kind of...lovely. Her guilt still sat heavy in her chest, too easily revived by being back in that place where her romance with Tyler had flourished and died. But feeling part of a family again? That part she’d enjoyed.
No, the reason she so bitterly regretted their pit stop in her past was walking beside her, as they strode out from the manor and towards the river that ran along the edge of the woods on the far side of the estate.
Spending time with Jasper had helped her see him in a new light. A more hopeful one. She’d got to know a man she’d thought she could actually like. Maybe even care for.