Libba’s hand squeezed his as John Templeton-Rath lifted his own to wave.
“Wave back,” she suggested. “Be polite. No reason not to be at this point.”
Jasper sighed and looked down at her. “I’ll do you one better,” he said, lifting her hand and kissing it.
Then he released his grip on her and trotted ahead, closing the gap between himself and his doom.
Absurdly, he was entirely certain that the reason he was running into this now instead of waiting was because he didn’t want any of them to see Rhys eating their pie. Somehow, that was one insult too far. Jasper could only tolerate so much.
“Brighthelm, actually,” Mr. Harcourt was saying pleasantly. “Brighthelmstone. It’s a mouthful. The city is quite old. I suppose if you live long enough, you’re entitled to a new name. Oh. Good to see you again, Mr. Townsend.”
Jasper gave him a weak smile, nodding to him. “I’ve brought you your next appointment,” he said, gesturing behind him to the theatrical coterie and Malcolm. “I understand congratulations are in order.”
Harcourt’s lips twitched, his brows rising. “They are, indeed.”
“Oh?” said Mrs. Templeton-Rath, turning with evident interest. “For what, may we ask?”
“Ah,” said Harcourt, blinking a few times. “I’ve discovered I have a son. His mother and I lost touch many years ago, backwhen I was practicing in London, and unfortunately, she died before she could tell me of his existence. He has finally found me.”
“Oh, gracious,” said Miss Templeton-Rath, covering her mouth. “But that’s incredible! How very sad and very inspiring all at once!”
“You must introduce us,” Mr. Templeton-Rath said.
“Erm,” Jasper put in, his cheeks flaming. “You’ve already met him, I’m afraid. He’s just there. The tall one.”
The family looked over, so slowly, Jasper was half-convinced time itself had slowed down.
“But,” said Mrs. Templeton-Rath, frowning, “that is Mr. Lem. He is not from London.”
Jasper nodded and released a heavy gust of breath. “I have some things I need to talk to you about, Mrs. Templeton-Rath. But we must not interrupt this important moment between the Harcourts. If you wouldn’t mind sitting with me in the square? Or perhaps we should retreat back to your home?”
The lady’s expression sharpened, her eyes passing over Libba wearing distinctly English fashions alongside the others.
He hoped she had not noticed the pie.
“The square is fine, young man,” she decided. “Lead the way. Again.”
He nodded and turned on his heel, finding a pair of iron benches alongside the first two of the Lanes and leading them there, his heart thundering in his ears.
The group, he saw, waited until he had taken them off before they approached. He could feel several pairs of eyes on him, but he remained focused on those benches. He watched them until they were under his fingers and he could fall into one, finding it exactly as comfortable as an executioner’s block ought to have been.
He opened his mouth and took a breath, preparing to speak.
But it was Miss Templeton-Rath who spoke first, her voice still gentle but firm. “Ayo was right,” she said, turning her head to look at her parents. “She wasn’t who she said she was.”
Mrs. Templeton-Rath held up a hand to silence her daughter, her gaze locked firmly on Jasper. “Mr. Townsend?”
“Princess Xandine,” he said with resignation, “is Liberty Lennox. She is an actress of some renown and a lifelong friend of mine. She agreed, at my behest, to play a character we have long used to charm tourists and sailors, to help me stand out to you amidst the competition for your favor. She was… compelled by me, to be honest with you. It is my fault.”
Mr. Templeton-Rath was squinting, his brow wrinkled up. “But why? After that business with the cats, you were already ingratiated.”
Jasper shifted, clearing his throat. “If you recall,” he said through the full body retraction that was currently working its way up from his toes, “I had already started the gambit by that point.”
“Mr. Townsend,” said Mrs. Templeton-Rath, her expression flat. “This is very disappointing. You ought to have had more faith in your own value from the jump. If you had simply introduced yourself to us that day on the wet dock, it would have been enough. No other aspirational young men even did that much.”
Jasper winced and nodded.
“But now,” she said, her mask cracking with the tiniest frown, “I’m afraid you’ve created a foundation of mistrust. And that really is a shame, you understand, because we had already discussed hiring you on to run the forwarding office.”