Mr. Jasper.

Mr Jasper's Misunderstanding's.

It was raining.

Rose had hoped, as it was the middle of August and her wedding day, that they may be afforded some small respite from the continual drizzle. They were not. In her future home of Grineby, rain appeared to be the customary condition.

With resignation she turned her attention to her toilette. Nothing elaborate, a simple dress and matching bonnet. The world thought her a young widow with a child, and she allowed them that illusion. Henry's family had informed her of his death while serving under Wellington at Badajoz. Subsequently, her lover's haughty family discreetly disavowed their engagement. It was unfortunate that his daughter was born within a sixth month of his passing.

His fine family wanted none of her or her child.

And she wanted none of them.

Society, always less forgiving of a woman's errors than a man's, required an explanation for her child, so the subterfuge began. But maintaining a false widowhood proved difficult. Orphaned as a child, Rose had been ward to her uncle Walter. Now with a child of her own and no fortune, she was an encumbrance, her position untenable. Uncle Walter had made it very clear.

A husband must be found.

The 'man of the world' who would over look her unfortunate past, provide her and the child with a secure future, presented himself in the form of Mr. Theobald Jasper. While Mr. Jasper was gentleman of independent means and good connections, her uncle offered the pithy conjecture that he was also 'obviously not too fussy.'

Rose swallowed her pride and, at their one and only encounter, tried to smile pleasingly.

He had behaved with a grave politeness.

Not a promising beginning.

Collecting her plain summer gloves, Rose thought how much she would have liked her darling Harriet to be present at the church, but, as in all things, her uncle overruled her. Harriet should remain in her new home with her new nurse.

Rose knew it would have been unseemly to make a fuss; this was a marriage of expediency. Mr. Jasper was a man of advanced years, a full forty summers, and a widower of long standing. He would not be a man to endure the capricious, sentimental nonsense of an imprudent young woman.

But still she missed her child's impish smile.

So, in her new half mourning dress of dove grey silk, with matching bonnet, she would go to Grineby parish church and marry Mr. Jasper.

###

Theobald Jasper ordered his cravat, his valet sniffed and re-ordered it.

"It must flounce sir, flounce, not flop."

Jasper raised an eyebrow and whispered an oath. "Damn it man, it is not St James's." He accepted the freshly configured necktie with little grace. "'Tis a country church, milkmaids and the odious relatives the only guests. Mr. Brummell is hardly like to spring forth from the woodwork to critique the line of me linen!" He drew out his cuffs and shook them so they fell elegantly against the sombre black of his coat.

In truth he wanted this to be over. He was a man of moderate habits, disdaining overindulgence. It appeared to him that weddings were universally overindulgent.

To keep the tittle-tattles at bay, these nuptials would be as judiciously inconspicuous as it was practical to be. But he was still wary.

His first marriage had been a disappointment. Matilda's family had insisted the on the very epitome a modish society wedding. The guest list was extensive, composed of names mostly unfamiliar to him, predominantly his betrothed's relations. At the time he had speculated if it was entirely normal to have quite so many cousins. A shudder took him at the thought of his wife's family and their habits.