His eyebrows lifted. “Very well, ask away.”

“My sister,” she said, worrying her hands in front of her suddenly. “I know she has done nothing to deserve your help or protection, but I am very worried about her running off with some stranger we know nothing about. Are you planning to do anything to help find her?”

He saw her true terror and couldn’t help but empathize. With his own brother, he had started off the same way, wanting to help him. In time, he had learned Solomon didn’t want or need his help. But Thomasina didn’t see it that way when it came to Anne. She still had the capacity to care.

And in truth, he had his own questions about Anne’s escape and the person she had run away with. He’d been mulling over her letter all night, thinking about every word choice. If she had met this Ellis person here in Harcourt, it seemed like a coincidence, indeed. He didn’t believe in those. Especially when that name…Ellis…seemed so damned familiar to him.

Yet he wasn’t ready to share that with Thomasina. If Anne’s lover had something to do with him or, God forbid, his late brother or father’s bad dealings, he needed to find that out without her interference.

“I will think about it,” he said, ducking his head so his message for her to go would be clear. “Good morning, Thomasina.”

Her mouth opened and shut, and for a moment he thought she might push. But instead she went to the door and hesitated there, watching him for what felt like an eternity before she finally whispered, “Good day, my lord.”

Then she was gone and he flopped back against his chair with a long exhalation of breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. He got up, going to the door she had just exited. He could smell her perfume there, some intoxicating combination of oranges and honeysuckle.

He tugged the bell, and in a moment his butler, Willard, appeared. “May I help you, my lord?”

“Is Reynolds on the estate?” he asked, returning to his desk.

Willard nodded. “Yes, sir. I believe he was dealing with some of the issues regarding the special license.”

Jasper barely kept himself from flinching. He had reached out to several staff members early in the morning, including his man of affairs, Reynolds, about the shocking change to his engagement status. Still, he hated that the news was circulating in the staff already.

Scandal was his constant companion, he feared.

“Should I fetch him?” Willard asked blandly, seemingly unaware of Jasper’s heightened state.

“Please.”

The butler left and Jasper paced the room. His mind was racing, bouncing from topic to topic and returning often to Thomasina and their uncertain future.

“You wanted to see me, Harcourt?”

He turned and forced a smile for his man-of-affairs. Reynolds had been a friend to him for years, long before he had inherited. Reynolds was a little more than a decade older than Jasper, and had seen far more in the world thanks to his time serving in His Majesty’s Navy. He was the man Jasper trusted most.