Julia smiled in gratitude. Her heart felt lighter after speaking with him. He was so kind and competent. So very knowledgeable. She resisted the urge to lay even more of her troubles at his door.

Or tried to resist.

He’d no sooner inquired if there was anything else he might assist her with, than she found herself blurting out the difficulty she was having with obtaining her funds from Hoares.

“It’s my parents, you see,” she explained. “My father’s exerted pressure on the bank. He’s even hired a firm of solicitors to argue the issue.”

“Do you know who he’s retained?” Mr. Finchley asked.

“Birchall, Crawley, and Micklethwait,” she said. “I don’t suppose you’ve heard of them?”

Mr. Finchley’s gaze sharpened. “Indeed.” He gestured to the chair. “Perhaps you should sit back down?”

“When is Julia coming home?” Charlie demanded from the door of the tower.

Jasper looked up from his manuscript with a distracted frown. Seated at his desk, he was reviewing the final chapter of Reunion at Waterloo for what must be the twentieth time. He’d thought he had locked the door before beginning his work.

Clearly not.

It wasn’t the first mistake he’d made since Julia had gone. In her absence, he couldn’t seem to keep anything straight. His thoughts were in turmoil.

“She only left yesterday,” he said.

“I know when she left.” Charlie stalked into the room, his narrow face set in a scowl. “I asked when she was coming back.”

Not soon enough, Jasper thought grimly.

He’d already spent one night in their bed alone. It was one night too many. From the moment Julia had gone—disappearing down the drive in the Arundells’ carriage—he’d ached for her. Longed for her. And he could do nothing about it. He had to respect her wishes.

“Is she coming back?” Charlie asked.

Jasper’s heart was a leaden lump in his chest. She’d promised she wasn’t leaving him, but he couldn’t entirely believe it. Not after how he’d hurt her.

Good God.

The very idea of her returning to London—to that house where she’d been so unhappy.

He should be there with her. Not to fight her battles for her, but to stand at her side. To offer her his strength, the support of his proximity, just as he once had standing beside her on Lady Holland’s balcony.

“Is she?” Charlie asked again.

“She is,” Jasper said.

“How do you know?”

“Because she told me so.” And because her horse was here and most of her clothes. She’d have to return for them, at least.

“When will she be home?”

“A week. Possibly a month. However long it takes.” It was too long. Jasper knew that as well as Charlie.

“I still don’t know why she left in the first place,” Charlie grumbled.

“She needed time to think,” Jasper said. “And she had matters to attend to in London.”

“Alone.”

“She’s not alone. She’s staying with Lady Arundell and Lady Anne.”