Seeing he’d gotten through to us, Jasper added, “I know you think I’m ruthless—that I go too far to make a profit. And maybe that’s true. But one thing I’ve always done is maintain a reputable business. Now that’s all been called into question.”
“Then I’ll make it right,” said Cedric. “I’ll marry her.”
“Cedric—” I began. I had no problem with the idea of marrying him, but he had to know the obstacles standing in our way were nearly insurmountable. Jasper knew that as well.
“Do you have a fortune set aside that I don’t know about? A stash of gold under your bed that will cover her price?”
Cedric’s jaw clenched. I hated seeing him humiliated, but Jasper’s point was valid. Cedric didn’t even have the funds to buy his stake yet, not until the painting deal went through—if it went through. And clearly, my commission was off the table.
“She still has time left on her contract,” replied Cedric. “I’ll earn the fee.” I was about to say Cedric had better things to spend his money on—hoping he’d pick up on the hint about Westhaven. But then he said something that sent me reeling: “I love her.”
A bright feeling blossomed within me. It was the first time the subject of love had ever come up between us, though I don’t think either of us had ever doubted it was there. Uncaring of Jasper’s disapproval, I found Cedric’s hand and clasped it. “I love him too.”
Jasper rolled his eyes. “This is all very touching, but unfortunately, we live in the real world—not some cheap copper romance novel.”
Charles cleared his throat, expression uncertain. “Perhaps . . . perhaps we could lend him the fee. He is family, after all.”
“No,” said Jasper swiftly. “No special treatment. He violated our policies, and he’ll live with those consequences. If others know he received a favor, it’ll only worsen things—confirm the idea that we’re taking liberties here. He’ll deal with this disaster the same way anyone else would have to.”
“We will deal with this,” I corrected.
A knock at the door stopped Jasper from rolling his eyes again. He nodded for Charles to open the door, and sighed. “This had better not be another one of those girls finding some excuse to get a peek in here. I’m sure they’re all gathered outside the door trying to listen.”
But it was no eavesdropping girl. Instead, it was Mistress Culpepper who stood there when Charles opened the door. “Forgive me,” she said, face contrite. “But Mister Doyle and his mother are here. I wasn’t sure if I should send them away or not.”
Jasper groaned and briefly covered his eyes with his hand. “And there’s another thing destroyed by this debacle. I told you this would spread.” He deliberated a moment and then gave a nod to Mistress Culpepper. “Yes. Bring them in, and let’s get their outrage over and done with. It’s no more than you two deserve.”
Warren and Viola soon entered. Both were dressed exceptionally formally for a morning call, the dark color of their clothing seeming to emphasize the gravity of the situation. I could tell immediately they knew what had happened. Jasper personally escorted Viola to a seat, and Charles hastily arranged the office chairs in a semicircle, as though this were some friendly social occasion in a parlor.
The exasperation Jasper had displayed before was wiped away. He was in performance mode and wouldn’t show any weakness to the Doyles. “Mistress Doyle,” he began. “It’s always such a delight to have you in our home. I swear, you grow lovelier each time—”
She held up a hand to silence him. “Oh, stop with your con man’s prattle. You know why we’re here.” She pointed an accusing finger at me. “We demand justice for the appalling, deceitful way she—”
“Mother,” interrupted Warren. “That is not why we’re here. Although I’m sure you can all imagine our shock when a messenger showed up at our house this morning with the, uh, news.”
Jasper put on a look of perfect contrition. “And I’m sure you can imagine how truly sorry we are for any miscommunication that may have happened in our recent interactions.”
“‘Miscommunication?’” Viola’s eyes widened. “Miscommunication? That girl said she’d marry my son last night. Then we hear this morning that she went straight into your son’s bed. That doesn’t really seem like a laughable misunderstanding.”
“Again,” said Jasper, “we are truly sorry for the inconvenience this may have caused you. You have every reason to be upset.”
“Upset, certainly . . .” Warren grew hesitant as he glanced between Cedric and me. “But not necessarily surprised.”
Even Jasper faltered. “You knew?”
Warren gestured toward Cedric and me. “About this specifically? No, no, of course not. But I could always tell there was something holding her back. No matter my entreaties, no matter how faultless I thought my logic . . . well, none of it worked. And I kept thinking, ‘What good reason could she have for not accepting?’ Now I understand.”
“She’s a conniving little—”
“Mother,” warned Warren. His civility toward us incensed her, and honestly, I was surprised by his attitude as well. “Tell me, Mister Thorn. What’s going to happen now?”
Jasper was back in comfortable territory. “Well, the first thing that’s going to happen is that you will have top priority in socializing with any of our remaining girls. And of course, there’ll be a substantial discount—”