God, that felt satisfying. No wonder women like Rosetta loved to do this to unruly patrons. He smiled at the tingling feeling in his palm, and stared at the shell-shocked look on that woman's face.
Around them, the crowd had fallen into stunned silence. It was not everyday (or any day, to be honest) that ladies struck each other physically.
"Your cheek isn't as red as my daughter's. But then again, her skin is paler and more beautiful than yours, seeing that you're so much older than she is," Jasper said, in the tone of someone commenting on the weather.
Crescent wanted to call her out for that insult regarding her age, but she took another frightened glance at his hand and thought better of it. Lady Francessa was flexing her fingers, as thorough rearing for another slap!
As such, Crescent was forced to hold her silence, a difficult feat for her.
Jasper smiled, seemingly pleased with her deference.
Then he delivered another stinging slap, this time on a different cheek!
"You - " Crescent clutched at her cheeks in shock, barely registering what happened. "You hurt me! How could you!"
"I'm not hurting you," Jasper said, in the patient tone of someone teaching a small child. "I'm making sure both sides are even so that you don't get strange stares when you walk in public."
Everyone winced; surely there was nothing that would attract strange stares more than having two red handprints on both sides of her face.
"And your face is a bit pale, I think I should add more colour to it, just like how you helped my daughter earlier."
Lady Crescent Millers began to shake her head frantically, refusing to remove her hands from her face. Jasper could only laugh at that funny sight. Where was the haughty woman that bullied a child?
"Mama, she looks funny," Lilian whispered in a voice loud enough for everyone to hear. There was a host of hastily stifled giggles as majority agreed.
"Yes she does," Jasper said, wondering if he should teach this child about not making rude comments in public. Then again, he wasn't her real mom! And everyone should have the ability to make rude comments in public, if only to humiliate those that dare to insult them.
"But this bi - lady is a very funny person. Like a clown from the circus."
"Oh!" Lilian said, her eyes wide with wonder. "But Mama, why is her nose not red?"
Jasper smirked. "Do not fret, my dear daughter," he still did not know her name. "Mama will help her with that soon enough."
Lady Crescent heard her words, and immediately picked up her skirts and ran, screaming for help.
The crowd watched her go in stunned silence, heads swiveling between her rapidly retreating figure and Lady Francessa, who was still standing perfectly still, watching her stumble and trip over branches and leaves.
Jasper reached for his shoe, and flung it straight at her!
Sadly, it didn't hit her on the head.
He forgot to account for this frailer body, and the shoe was lighter than his usual. As such, it flew harmlessly through the air and landed on the dewy grass.
"Tsk." He scolded himself. This was a misstep he could have avoided! What a waste of a shoe!
"Wow," his daughter muttered, with stars in her eyes. Mama threw her shoe! Mama always said she should follow her example on becoming a proper lady, so Lilian bent down and slipped off her shoes too.
Just like her Mama, she took aim and threw! But her shoes didn't fly far, they only hit Nanny Oswald, who stared at her in disappointment.
Her Mama also stared at her in shock.
Her bottom lip wibbled.
She was going to get scolded!
"Don't cry," Jasper said awkwardly as he watched 'his' daughter's eyes fill with tears. He bent down and tried to carry her, only to realise he couldn't lift her up at all! He settled for hugging her and patting her back, things his mother did for him.
This woman must have been seriously ill, to be bed-ridden to the point where her muscles were this weak! Either that, or she was poisoned - but who would poison a lady?
"Lady Francessa, what should we do now?" Nanny Oswald asked tremulously, now that Lady Crescent Millers had run off, leaving a stunned crowd that was watching her Lady Francessa with baited breath, as though she was a circus monkey that was constantly pulling off new tricks.
Her Lady had returned from the dead! Nanny Oswald couldn't believe it, but she wasn't going to ask questions. Miracles should just be accepted - and maybe Lady Francessa truly loved her daughter so much that seeing her get bullied made her come down from Heaven like an avenging angel to enact justice!
"We shall go home," Jasper replied, before he realised that he had no idea where his home was. He wasn't even sure who he was - Francessa wasn't a common name, but it wasn't a rare name that would immediately bring to mind a certain person.
Alright, that wasn't true. He could only remember one Francessa from before, and there was no guarantee that she was the same Francessa that he was.
He sure hoped it wasn't the same woman. That would mean that she was dead, and the thought of her leaving this world sent a sharp ache through his spine.
He heard she had a daughter though. He hoped he was wrong.
"Lady Francessa, you don't look too well." Nanny Oswald commented worriedly. "Do you want to rest?"
"I did come back from the dead," Jasper replied wryly, lips curving into a smile. "Can you call a carriage for us? We should be making our way back," he requested Nanny Oswald.
Hopefully it would just take them straight home, then he wouldn't need to ask alarming questions like 'who am I' and 'where do I live'.
"Yes, of course my Lady," Nanny Oswald agreed quickly as she shuffled away. His daughter remained glued to his side still, without her shoes on.
He wanted her to put on her shoes, but he didn't even know her name!
"Put on your shoes darling, we're going home." He decided. Pet names were always a good alternative. It worked for all women, until they found out he was using them because he didn't remember their real names.
In his defense, he did remember their names. He would be a bad spy otherwise. However, his cover meant that he had to pretend to forget, to play the role of a rake, a rogue, and a drunkard.
The crowd watched as Lilian toddled to her shoes and picked one up with each hand, before running back to her mother proudly and staring at her expectantly.
Did this woman help her daughter put on her shoes?
Do mothers help children put on their shoes? His own certainly didn't.
He looked down, she still stared at him beseechingly with big blue eyes. He sighed and crouched down, helping her.
"Next time, don't take off your shoes and throw them." Jasper instructed.
"But Mama did it too…"
"That doesn't mean you can do it," Jasper retorted. "I am older."
"But Mama always said I should follow Mama's example," the girl parroted seriously. "Mama is a lady, so I should be one too."
Jasper could only sigh. So now he had to watch his behaviour, just in case he corrupted a young child that looked up to him and followed his every action? Was this heaven's way of straightening out his behaviour?
"Lady Francessa!" One woman braved the crowd to speak to him. He did not recognize her from her face - if he had her name, he could recall facts about her family tree, their finances and their political affiliations, but as things were now, she was just a face in the crowd, a lady in mourning attire.
Luckily, she had a tassel with a white falcon on a tree. House of Harringder. She must either be the Viscountess or one of the unmarried Miss Harringders.
"Yes?" Jasper replied politely.
"Lady Francessa, while your return is shocking, rest assured that most of us are pleased." She said, grasping Jasper's hands firmly in her own.
While it seemed like a sign of sisterhood and support, Jasper couldn't help but notice that this woman was secretly checking for a pulse!
Jasper could only bite his cheek to hide a laugh. The House of Harringder were probably afraid that she was a corpse reanimated with sorcery, seeing that their own grand-patriarch died recently!
It would interfere with inheritance if dead people were coming back to life.
Thankfully, Jasper knew he had a pulse. His blood had surged when he slapped Crescent Millers, and his body was warm - like a normal body.
Realising that he wasn't a walking corpse, Lady Harringder's smile turned warmer as she let go of his hands.
"I shall help you take care of the guests and leave you alone to rest." She said, a bit apologetically. "You and Lilian must have had quite a day."
He froze. This girl's name was Lilian?
Why was she named after his mother?