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"Given the circumstances?" Letty didn't have to think about it. "Yes. Now that we've gotten that cleared up, I would be much obliged if you would put me back down. Right now."

"As much as it pains me to disoblige a lady, I'm afraid that won't be possible." Jasper didn't look the least bit pained. "You see, I have plans for you."

Letty had plans for herself, too. She doubted they coincided.

"Well, that's just too bad." Letty reached for the reins. "Some plans aren't meant to be."

Jasper forestalled her by the simple act of pulling a pistol from his waistband and jamming it into the region of her waist. It was much larger than the pistol Geoff had given her, sixteen inches at the least from stock to muzzle. Jasper handled it with a one-handed ease that bespoke long familiarity with the weapon.

"Sit," he commanded.

Letty sat.

"Is it loaded?" she asked hopefully.

Jasper sent her a look loaded with enough derision to stagger the Dowager Duchess of Dovedale. "What do you think?"

"I think you ought to put it down. You might hurt yourself."

"Your concern touches me deeply."

The thought of touching Jasper in any way revolted her. It did not, however, seem politic to say so while he had a gun jammed up against her spleen.

"I'm flattered that you were so determined to have our drive together, but you can let me down now." Letty favored him with a sparkling social smile that was only slightly marred by the smudges on her cheeks and the hay in her hair. "This has been simply charming, but I should be getting back before I'm missed."

"Has anyone ever told you that it's unwise to mock a man with a gun?"

"The situation has never arisen," said Letty honestly. "I would prefer to keep it that way."

It probably wasn't the wisest course to taunt a man with a gun shoved into her ribs, but Letty didn't believe Jasper would actually pull the trigger. At least, not deliberately. Jasper was a boaster and a bully, not a cold-blooded killer.

She hoped.

No, she wasn't going to let herself go down that road. If Jasper had the mettle for murder, he would have just killed Geoff outright, rather than trying to bamboozle her into doing it. Letty didn't doubt that Jasper was greedy enough and conscienceless enough to attempt to arrange the death of anyone who came between him and his tailor, but he just didn't have the backbone to do it himself, a fact for which Letty was profoundly grateful.

Letty scrounged for other explanations. The only one she could come up with was ransom money. The thought cheered Letty immensely. If he was planning to hold her for ransom, she would be far more use to Jasper alive than dead. No one paid full price for a corpse.

Perhaps if she started him talking, Jasper's grip on the weapon would relax. Once the gun was knocked out of his reach…well, she would deal with that bit when she got to it.

"What do you intend to do with me?"

"I thought you would never ask. Get along." Jasper impatiently slapped at the horse, which was ambling along at its own peaceful pace. With a quick look at Letty, he added, "Not you."

"Of course not." Letty folded her hands demurely in her lap and tried not to look as though she were seeking the first opportunity to whack him in the arm, steal his gun, and leap out of the wagon.

"Such a shock it will be to everyone," expatiated Jasper, waving the hand holding the gun, "when the young Viscountess Pinchingdale is found dead. On her honeymoon."

Not kidnapping, then. Jasper did seem to be taking her rejection of his advances a little too seriously. Letty wondered if she ought to have refrained from that comment about his sideburns.

"Not only dead," Jasper continued, warming to his theme, "but murdered. And by whom?"

"Preferably no one."

Jasper ignored her. "By her own husband."

"I hate to point out the flaw in your cunning plan," said Letty, squirming toward the far end of the seat, "but Geoff isn't here."

Jasper brought her to an abrupt halt by the simple expedient of thrusting the gun against her chest. "He doesn't have to be. That's the brilliance of it. It isn't necessary that our dear Geoffrey kill you—"

"How lovely."

"—simply that he be thought to kill you."

"And how do you plan to manage that? Geoff isn't exactly known for his murderous rages. No one is going to believe it."

"Oh, won't they?" Jasper looked altogether too sure of himself for Letty's liking. Even his sideburns exuded smugness. "Everyone knows our blameless Geoffrey was in love with your sister."

"Along with half the ton," snapped Letty. "It is not exactly an uncommon emotion where Mary is concerned."

"It is common knowledge that our Geoffrey was forced against his will to take you instead."

The way Jasper kept repeating "our Geoffrey" set her teeth on edge. Or maybe it was just the gun, poking insistently at the binding around her waist. She could feel the muzzle boring into her side, even through all the layers of fabric. For the first time, Letty wished Jane had wrapped on more binding. And perhaps a few layers of armor.

"I could have the entire ton up on the stand," continued Jasper confidently, "all vouching to the fact that Geoffrey never wanted to marry you."

Letty had no doubt that Mrs. Ponsonby would be the first to testify. "That might be true, but it's no motive for murder. Otherwise you would have three-quarters of the ton in the dock."

"Yours was an exceptional case."

"Wouldn't you rather just kidnap me and hold me for ransom?" Letty suggested. "That way, you get an immediate influx of funds with no pesky little murder charges. You know what they say about a bird in the hand."

"That isn't a bird; it's a gull. Do you really expect me to believe that our Geoffrey would pay to have you back? He wouldn't even travel with you as man and wife." Jasper smirked. "And everyone in Dublin has seen him making up to Miss Fairley. Now there's a fine piece of flesh."

Letty wondered just what Jane would have to say about that description.

"Besides, why would I settle for a measly portion when I could have the whole? Not only the money, but the houses, the title, everything that was due me at birth."

"Due?"

"Due. It should have been mine. What right did Geoffrey have? What did he have that I didn't?"

Letty could have told him the answer to that quite easily—he had the good fortune to be born in the proper order to the proper father—but she suspected the question was intended to be rhetorical.

If Jasper wanted unfair, he should try being born a woman. That would teach him.

"Perhaps," suggested Letty, treading very carefully, "you might try discussing this with your cousin."

Jasper might be venal, but he was, unfortunately, not entirely stupid.

"Do you think I'm entirely stupid? No, the only way is to take my destiny into my own hands. And you, my dear Lady Pinchingdale, are going to help me. Once your body is found"—Jasper gloated over the reins—"I won't even have to kill him. The law will do it for me."

"I'll grant you," said Letty, "that ours has not exactly been a picture of married bliss. But that isn't enough to prove a charge of murder."

"It will be," said Jasper complacently, "when they find our Geoffrey's snuffbox beside your body. It has the letters GP quite clearly worked into the design." Jasper paused for dramatic effect before adding the piиce de rйsistance. "And a portrait of your sister painted on the lid."

There was very little Letty could think of to say in response to that. What was there to say? In conjunction with the rumors percolating about their marriage, the discovery of the snuffbox would be just as damning as Jasper intended it to be. With the picture of Mary simpering sweetly from the underside of the lid, it provided both evidence and motive in one convenient package.