Chapter 7

London, 1820

"I was wondering if you were going to join me for dinner," Jason murmured, glancing over at Elizabeth as she came into the kitchen.

She stayed in the doorway, one hand wrapped around her middle and the other fisted in the skirt of her navy dress. Her curls hair were was pinned tightly in a bun at the back of her head, but a few stray curls had managed to come loose to frame her face. She looked out of place, like she belonged in any kitchen but his – or vice versa seeing as it wasn't his home.

"Where's Spinelli?" she asked, as if trying to ignore that he sounded as if he actually wanted to have dinner with her.

He was more surprised that he actually wanted to. "Errands," he answered, scooping soup into a bowl with a ladle.

"Are you trying to run the life out of him, or do you just enjoy giving orders?" she asked, craning her neck to look into the pot on the stove.

"He likes to stay busy," Jason replied, nodding towards the table on the other side room. He carried the bowls over to the table, set them down, and started back over for the spoons, but Elizabeth met him halfway and held one out to him.

"Not one for idle hands?" she asked, smiling softly as he pulled her chair out from the table. "Thank you."

"You're welcome," he replied, taking his own seat across from her. "Spinelli has always liked to stay busy. He always has so much going on in that head of his. The mundane tasks relax him."

"I could use something to relax me," she sighed, curving her lips as she brought her spoon to her mouth and blew at the steaming heat.

For the first time in days, she appeared content, so her comment surprised him. He should have known something was wrong when she appeared in the kitchen that morning, grabbing a muffin from the counter, and retreated to her room. Part of him assumed that she was still upset for the way he'd gone about the wedding, but now he wondered if it was something more.

"I understand if you're still upset about yesterday's events," he said, the apology sounding awkward on his tongue.

"No, it's not that at all," she corrected, pressing her cloth napkin to the corners of her mouth. "Well, that was rather displeasing, but…" Sighing, she smoothed her napkin over her lap. "I suppose I'm feeling rather anxious about seeing my father."

"You have nothing to worry about," he replied sincerely, disliking the worry that filled her face. "When was the last time you…left the house?"

Her eyes widened as she stared into her lap. "I believe…yesterday…was the first time since…" Blush rose over her cheeks and she shook her head at herself. "Since my father was arrested."

"More than half a year," he murmured in disbelief, which only upset her more.

"It wasn't as if I had someone to escort me everywhere I went," she huffed defensively, clearly feeling insulted. "I couldn't keep the help around when so many were scrambling to find out the – when so many people wanted to know what happened. They didn't know what happened – they would have heard things in this house and misconstrued them, so I did what I had to do. Thankfully, Carly isn't as stubborn as I am. As difficult as she may be, I've needed her."

Jason nodded, biting his tongue to keep from saying what he truly thought of her friend. The woman was bossy and loud and her presence in the house irked him from the first time they met. She'd spent every moment after learning they were engaged trying to convince Elizabeth not to marry some stranger.

Now that she knew Jason and Elizabeth were married, he expected her attitude to worsen, and he was wondering if there was any way he could convince his wife to find someone new. Spinelli was capable of running any miniscule errand, but it wasn't like Jason could request that Carly be dismissed altogether. Elizabeth needed someone to help dress her in the morning, and she surely wouldn't allow her husband to do so.

Not that he would mind.

"Anytime you wish to go to town, Spinelli can-"

"No," she cut in, shaking her head firmly. "Tonight will be difficult enough." Taking a deep breath, she took another bite of her soup and forced a smile as she swallowed. "This is delicious."

"Thank you," he replied, having lost his appetite completely at the thought of her being so alone in this house.

For months, she'd had no one to speak to or laugh with, and it had caused her to be too afraid to leave the house. Jason imagined there had been hecklers, both in the press and town that had terribly frightened her, and she'd had to face it all on her own.

"Elizabeth," he whispered, caught off by the vulnerability of his own voice.

"Yes?" she asked, licking her lips after swallowing another bite.

"I know this situation is difficult, but I don't wish my wife to be miserable," he replied slowly, wanting to do something – anything – to make her happy.

"I assure you I am not miserable," she said, lazily swirling her spoon around in her bowl.

"But you are sad," he stated, not allowing her the chance to argue.

"Well, a pretend marriage can't fix everything, Jason," she murmured, placing her dirty napkin on the table. "Unless you'd like company while you finish, I'd like to finish getting ready for this evening."

He dropped his gaze to his bowl, his heart tightening in his chest. "I'll meet you in the foyer in an hour."

"When I was a child, my father and I used to take walks in the countryside at night," Elizabeth murmured, smoothing a hand over her hair and regretting not having worn a hat. It just seemed so silly to have one on in the evening. "The stars look so close there."

"Perhaps, sometime we could-"

"It was a long time ago," she interrupted, tipping her head to look up at him. "I was just a silly child, and it's hardly fitting for adults. Not to mention what people would say."

"Do you always worry about what people say?" Jason asked curiously, stiffening as she tightened her hold on his arm.

Elizabeth noticed how tense he became and tried to loosen her grip, but she couldn't get rid of the anxiety that had consumed her the second they left the house. Yesterday had been different because she'd walked to the street and climbed into a carriage, but now they were walking through town. People would see them, and by morning everyone would know that Elizabeth Webber had been seen with a man. They would contemplate the possibilities; a suitor, a husband, or was she simply just a whore.

"I never used to care, but things change," she replied, drawing her shoulders tightly around her as they passed a woman and man on the street.

"Elizabeth, it's okay," he murmured, bringing his other hand up to rest over hers.

She sucked in a breath at the warmth of his touch, but was relieved when he left it there. So much of the past months had been spent alone that she actually appreciated having someone beside her, even if he didn't want to be.

"Do you know what you'll say to him?" she asked curiously, having rehearsed several conversations in her headand, but nothing seemed worthy to say to someone she hadn't seen in so long.

Her father had enough on his mind, and the last thing she wanted to add to that list was her. She didn't doubt that he thought of her daily and wondered if she was well, and she was worried about leaving him with the impression that she wasn't.

"No," Jason admitted, his lips curving into a gentle smile. "Johnny and I discussed what to say, and while I came here to work on his case, I haven't had much time…"

"I suppose I am to blame for that."

"Not at all. I am only worried if I tell your father about trying to free him that he may get hopeful and if I can't…"

"I see," she said, pursing her lips and turning her body towards Jason as they passed a group of men standing outside of a pub. Sensing her discomfort, he promptly steered her across the street and squeezed her hand reassuringly.

She smiled a thank you, suddenly feeling relaxed that he seemed to understand why she felt the way she did, and that he was willing to help her in any way. If only she could get him to understand her father's case through her eyes. Perhaps the distraction from freeing him was what Jason needed.

"We're almost there," he said, smoothing his thumb over the back of her hand as they walked. "Have you thought about what you'll say to him?"

"Very much," she confessed, feeling embarrassed. "I still haven't a clue to what I'll say, but I have promised myself I won't cry – at least not in front of him. Or you, seeing as you must be so tired of my crying."

"You've been through a lot," Jason murmured, waiting for her to lift her skirt in hands before starting up the stairs to the jail. "Just know you've done nothing wrong."

She dropped her eyes to the ground, not liking how he seemed to really see her when he looked at her, and she didn't look up again until they were standing in the hallway and Jason was talking to a guard.

"Johnny promised your discretion," he said, glaring at the short, fat man who was leaning against the wall.

"I won't tell Richard you were here unless he comes around asking," the man replied, turning to unlock the door to the hallway. "I have no desire to get on his bad side." Jason nodded, steering her into the hallway. "Last cell on the end. You have ten minutes."

Elizabeth didn't have to look into any of the cells to feel people stirring around and looking at them curiously. "It's okay," Jason whispered, slipping his arm around her waist and holding her against him.

She closed her eyes as they walked, the short hallway feeling as if it took hours, and when she opened her eyes, she nearly burst into tears at the sight of her father. "Papa," she cried, tearing herself out of Jason's arms and reaching through the bars.

"Oh, Elizabeth," he whispered, taking her hands in his. The tender hands she remembered so well were now rough and ragged against hers. He looked older than she remembered, this entire ordeal having aged him greatly. "How did you…"

"Jason and Johnny," she answered, pressing her forehead against the bars, wishing there was a way for nothing to be between them. "Papa, how are you? This place – it must be-"

"I am well," he cut in, shaking his head, "and that's all there is to say about me. Tell me about you." He looked over her shoulder at Jason, his eyes filled with appreciation. "How are you, Elizabeth?"

"I am – I am-" she stuttered, looking over her shoulder at Jason, not sure exactly what to tell her father.

He stepped forward and rested his hand on the small of her back, and she instantly felt comforted. "As you can see I received your letter, and I'm afraid to say that you underestimated your daughter and her desires."

Jeffrey's brow furrowed as he looked between them. "I'm not sure I understand."

"Jason and I – Well, he arrived last week and it all happened rather quickly, and I wished you could have been there, Papa," Elizabeth said hurriedly, still not telling her father the complete truth. She wasn't sure if she could, mostly out of fear of his reaction.

"You're engaged?" he asked, his eyes lighting up, the first signs of any real life existing inside him.

"No," Elizabeth answered, shaking her head as she looked up at Jason. "We're married."

"Really? But when?" he asked, squeezing her hands.

Her eyes filled with tears, and she didn't know if she could answer, knowing that he was thinking the same thoughts as she was. He hadn't been there.

"Yesterday," Jason replied, resting his hand on her shoulder. "I apologize not having direct approval, but in your letter-"

"I remember very well what I said," he interrupted gleefully, looking Elizabeth in the face. "Oh, sweetheart, there is no better man to take care of you in my absence. Does this mean you're going back to Italy soon?"

"Not exactly," she whispered, realizing she was going to have to admit she'd disobeyed her father.

"Elizabeth feels that London is her home," Jason stepped in, sounding as worried as she felt. "She doesn't wish to leave, and I didn't have it in me to force her. I can't blame her for not wanting to leave with you awaiting trial for murder."

"The crime was done," Jeffrey sighed regretfully, "so I must await my punishment."

"I don't believe you did it," he replied, causing Elizabeth to gasp and look away. "I won't argue about this, but I just refuse to believe itwith you about this, but I don't believe you did this."

"You've spoken to Johnny," he father murmured, and she almost wanted him to tell them they had to leave London. "Do you intend to attempt to prove my innocence?"

"Is there innocence to prove?" Jason asked, clearly wanting Jeffrey to admit he hadn't killed Lucas Spencer.

"I trust you to protect my daughter," he replied seriously, shifting his eyes to Elizabeth, who reluctantly met her father's gaze.

"I will," he promised, "at any cost."

The door swung open at the opposite end of the hall. "Time's up," came the guard's rough voice.

"What? Already?" Elizabeth asked, feeling as though they'd barely visited with him.

"You must go," her father muttered, lifting one of his hands to stroke her cheek. "Have a wonderful life, darling. Don't spend it worrying about me."

"I can't have a wonderful life without you in it," she whispered, her lips trembling as her vision blurred.

So much for her promise.

"Of course you can," he argued gently, pulling his hands back through the bar. "Jason will take care of you, and you will take care of him. I'll be nothing more than a memory."

"That's impossible," she cried, angry with how he'd settled was so settled into his fate.

"Time is up," the guard called out again.

"We have to go," Jason said, his hand on her waist as he tried to pull her away from the cell.

"I can't," she sobbed, tears slipping down her face. She didn't have the strength to walk away not knowing what was going to happen or if she would ever see him again. "I can't leave him."

"Elizabeth, please, just go," her father begged, backing into his cell as if he couldn't stand being close to her. "Don't worry about me. As you can see, I'm fine."

"But you haven't gone to trial! You don't know what they'll do to you! This isn't fair!" she shouted, trying to jerk herself out of Jason's arms as he slid them around her and started to pull her away. "You didn't-"

"Elizabeth, stop right now young lady!" her father growled, his voice booming down the hallway. "You pull yourself together, and you walk out of her like a woman with her wits about her."

"I don't want to say goodbye to you," she whispered, giving into Jason and leaning against him so that he was practically holding her up. "I can't – not when you're all I've ever had."

"You have Jason now," he said, only reminding her that she had someone who wanted to be anywhere, but with her.

"It's not the sa-"

"Now or I'm going to drag you out," the guard threatened angrily.

"Go," Jeffrey said, pressing his lips to his fingers and holding them out to her. "I love you."

She mimicked his gesture and allowed Jason to pull her down the hallway. "I love you too," she replied, finally tearing herself from her husband's arms and rushing away from her father's cell.

"Elizabeth," Jason called, chasing after her.

She didn't stop running until she was outside, where she collapsed into a sobbing heap at the stop of the stairs. None of this was right, and she didn't see how she could leave her father in jail, awaiting trial.

"Elizabeth," Jason murmured quietly, kneeling down beside her and sliding his arms around her.

"It's not fair," she sobbed, coming apart in his arms, no longer caring about holding it together, or keeping her guard up. She was tired of being alone and trying to hold everything in. "He can't – Jason – they'll find him guilty for sure."

"They won't," he said, smoothing his hand up and down her back as he rested his chin on her head. "I won't let it happen. I promise you, Elizabeth, soon your father will be free."

"Please," she begged, burying her face in his shirt as she cried.

Despite all the reasons she knew that Jason would never free her father, she told herself that just for tonight she had no other choice but to believe him.