Page 37 of A Deal with the Rebellious Marquess
Fleur Griffiths had the wrong man. For his sake and for hers, Jasper hoped they got to London in time.
Chapter Twenty
It was nearly time. Fleur glanced at the clock on her office desk. She would leave herself twenty minutes to take the stairs down to the basement of theTribunebuilding where the presses were housed, far enough away from the daily business of running the paper that their noise didn’t interrupt. The feature story on the Bilberry reservoir would go to print and be out in the morning edition. She’d taken the story down this morning for lay out and she wanted to be on hand this evening when the first copy of the paper came off the presses.
She’d stayed late tonight especially for that reason. Last night she’d stayed late for a board of directors’ meeting. The night before that she’d stayed late to write. The night before that... She stopped right there. She didn’t want to think about that night or the one before it. Suffice it to say, there’d been a lot of reasons this week to stay late. Here, she was busy. She didn’t have time to think about anything outside of work.
And why would she? Work had been good this week for the first time in a long time. There had been successes. The board of directors was thrilled with being able to break the Bilberry Dam story. It was going to be the biggest story of the summer and into the autumn once a trial was called for. Circulation would go up and that meant revenues would go up. The board had actually applauded her and complimented her work.
Two weeks ago they’d wanted her head on a pike, blaming her for losing money even though the losses had pre-dated her tenure. And now, they were so pleased. Her position was safe. Adam’s newspaper syndicate was safe. She sat back in her desk chair and raised a teacup to the empty room. ‘I did it, Adam. I found the culprit and he is going to pay for your death.’ She was going to have justice for Adam, Keir, Garrett, Antonia, Emma and herself, just as she’d vowed after the tragedy last year. So why didn’t she feel better about it? Why wasn’t the thrill of victory thrumming through her? She’d triumphed. Breaking this story would also give momentum to her call for better oversight legislation. By rights, she should be on top of the world.
The higher the pedestal, the further the fall. What a long way down it would be with no one to catch her. It was an incredibly morbid thought and a lonely one, too. But she wasn’t going to fall. She’d done her research, she had her proof. Her story was airtight. Adam’s syndicate was rallying. Why did none of this fill her with satisfaction? With pride? Why did it all of this good news leave a sour taste?
Was it a sour taste or just no taste at all? Where was the joy? There was no one to celebrate it with. She’d achieved the improbable, she’d discovered what Captain Moody’s inquest could not. For her efforts there’d been a round of applause in the boardroom and a perfunctory champagne toast. Then the board had shook her hand and headed home to their families to celebrate their own good fortunes with those they loved. It was what she would have done. In the past, Emma and Antonia would have celebrated with her. But they were long gone, off to new lives. Adam wasn’t here. There was no one.
‘Damn it, Adam. You should be here,’ she scolded out loud. ‘I became a reporter for you. I learned about the newspaper business for you and now you aren’t here to do your part.’ This was for him. It had always all been for him. They’d dedicated their lives to his news syndicate because it had been his dream. She’d kept that dream alive for him. But this was not her dream, it did not feed her happiness. She saw that more clearly now.
For so long whatever Adam had wanted, she’d wanted, too. She’d not stopped to consider her own dreams. Not until Jasper. He had been just for her because he couldn’t be more. He was a dream she couldn’t have. They could never go out into society. She didn’t belong in his circles and now she was bringing scandal to his family.
Whatever he felt for her would not withstand the firestorm her article would stir up. He would hate her, knowing that she’d done this to his brother. He couldn’t possibly love a woman who would strike such a blow against those he loved. It didn’t mean she was doing anything wrong. This story must be told. It was right to tell it. But it did mean she couldn’t have him.
‘What can your story change? It can’t bring anyone back.’
His words had haunted her this week amid the champagne and congratulations. She had her success but at what cost? At the cost of hurting him, of ruining his brother’s life, even though his brother ought to have shown better judgement to begin with. There was cost to her as well. She’d lost Jasper, a man who cared for her. She’d never thought to feel again the way she felt with Jasper: on fire, alive and it was better than anything she’d ever known.
Even with Adam.
Such a thought bordered on heresy. Adam had been the sum of her world for so long it seemed wrong to let anything or anyone challenge his place. Life with Adam had been fiery, passionate, an adventure. There’d been wealth at her fingertips and unique opportunities that appealed to her bolder nature. But there’d also been a limit. She’d never truly been Adam’s partner, had she? Their life was Adam’s life. She was just invited along for the ride.
With Jasper, she was a partner in truth. He’d invited her into partnership that night at Meltham House and never looked back, knowing the risk he took in doing so. He’d never flagged in that partnership, not even when the account books squarely implicated his brother.
She’d not easily forget the pain on his face when she left him at the bank. Even in his own private agony over his brother, he’d offered to take her back to Rosefields. She’d left because she couldn’t bear to see him suffer, knowing that she was the cause of it. She’d not trusted herself to hold on to her principles. One halfway decent argument from him and she would have let the findings go. Now, it didn’t matter. She had put herself beyond him with this article.
The last of the clerks were locking up the offices as she walked through on the way to the stairs. Only the print crew would remain throughout the night to have the morning edition ready when London awoke. She stopped and looked about the space. It was quiet with everyone gone. Jasper would like that. He appreciated the value of quiet. Did she really want to give all this up? Could she? She rather thought she could. It would not be easy. The adult years of her life had been spent in these offices. But what and who was she keeping this for? Not for herself, she saw that now. This did not bring her joy, not without Adam.
She thought of the conversation she’d had with Antonia earlier in the spring. She’d urged Antonia to think about why she was holding on to Keir’s company. Perhaps she ought to ask herself that question, too. Why was she holding on to the papers? Out of habit? Because she felt she owed it to Adam? Because running the syndicate brought her joy and fulfilment? Two of those answers were not reasons to stay involved. The third one was, though. Could she answer yes to it? The last few weeks with Jasper had caused her to question her choices and reasons. Perhaps it was time to start exploring those answers, and perhaps for the first time since Adam’s death she was actually in a mental and emotional place from which to do that exploration.
She was about to turn the knob on the door leading to the basement when the night security guard called out, running towards her, ‘Mrs Griffiths, wait. There’s a gentleman here to see you. I told him we were closed for the night, but he insisted it was important.’
He panted his message as two men came up behind him, one, an immaculately groomed dirty blond, the other dark-haired and tousled.Jasper.Her reaction was physical and real, after almost a week without him. Her pulse raced, the sight of him enough to fluster her. She’d missed him so much.
‘Fleur.’ Urgency underscored that single word. ‘Have you printed the article yet?’ There was desperation and hope mixed in his eyes as if everything hung by the thread of her answer.
‘Um, no. It runs tomorrow morning. I was just going down to see the first editions come off the press in a few minutes.’
Jasper’s hand gripped her arm with a gentle pressure, his eyes intent on her. ‘You have to halt the presses, Fleur. That story cannot run.’
She had to be strong here at the eleventh hour even when faced by the temptation of seeing him again, all those feelings of want and need that only he could satisfy surging to the fore. ‘Jasper,’ she said in low, private tones, ‘we’ve discussed it. You know I cannot ignore the evidence.’
‘I know, Fleur. That’s not why I’m asking.’ She’d never seen him like this, so stern, so intense. ‘You’ve got the right idea, but you’ve got the wrong man. The story is bigger than you think. Trust me,’ Jasper ground out. ‘I’m asking for your sake. That story will be the ruin of you. I cannot let you run a piece that I know is false.’
That was when she knew just how much he loved her. This was not a gambit to save his brother or even himself. He’d come to save her. After all she’d put him through, he’d still come for her. Halting the presses was no small consideration. The board of directors would be furious to discover the piece was pulled. They’d have to lay out the front page differently. The paper might even be late. There’d be a price to pay for her decision. But Jasper had come for her. The least she could do was listen to him.
‘We’ll have to hurry,’ she said gravely, making the decision on the fly, hoping they weren’t too late as it was and racking her brain for what she was going to use to replace it.
They made it with a minute to spare, Fleur bellowing at the top of her lungs, to stop the presses before tying on an apron and taking charge of the needed alterations. Jasper stepped back, keeping himself and Orion out of the way. As far as he was concerned, he had the best seat in the house. It was impressive to watch her work as she moved from group to group, helping with the typesetting to rearrange the layout and to find a new article to substitute.
‘It’s not going to run, right?’ Orion asked nervously at his side.
