But despite his reputation for being a shameless philanderer, he not only had his horses, but other, less obvious, commitments. He wasn’t the idle gentleman most believed him to be.
He tapped the end of his quill on his desk, rethinking the decision he’d come to earlier that afternoon.
Because the light in her eyes had dimmed.
He could buy her a cottage somewhere, near the coast perhaps, where she could start a new life. But would such an arrangement come with expectations? He was honorable, in most cases, but he’d never pretended to be overly charitable.
Just easily influenced by a pretty face.
Before the thought even fully formed, pounding on the front door, so loud that he had no doubt as to whose fists were making it, interrupted their conversation.
And damned if it didn’t leave him feeling more than a little disappointed.
Lady Gardenia jumped up and glanced around, looking like a startled doe—one who was being handed over to a lion.
“It’s not the end of the world.” Jasper made a half-hearted attempt to console her. If it was her father, Jasper couldn’t legally prevent him from taking her.
Only a husband could do that.
She’d taken a few steps toward the window and froze. Jasper rubbed the back of his neck and glanced outside as well. Sure enough, the unfamiliar carriage featured a ducal crest—that of the Duke of Crossings.
Matters, it appeared, were about to be resolved on their own.
She’d be better off under the protection of her father. Jasper could go on about his normal routine, in addition to his clandestine efforts with Malum, and not worry about picking battles with one of England’s most powerful dukes.
Pounding footsteps followed that thought, and the large mahogany door of his study flew open, banging into the wall behind it.
And in the open door stood the Duke of Crossings.
Jasper had been introduced to the duke five or so years before, and their paths crossed often enough at clubs, hunts, and the occasional ton event. But, unlike many of his contemporaries, Jasper had no desire to work his way into the man’s good graces.
“Crossings.” Jasper crossed the room. He’d be damned if he’d bow and scrape to a person who’d all but broken down his door. He did, however, extend a hand.
The duke ignored it, his stare instead pinned on the girl standing in the center of the room. “You’re worse than your sister!” He crossed the room and grasped her arm.
Although at least twice Jasper’s age, the duke was stout but relatively fit. And he did nothing to curtail his temper.
Jasper tensed. He’d not allow Lady Gardenia to be harmed in his house.
But then the duke’s expression eased into one of tight concern. “I was worried about you, daughter. Never run off by yourself like that. You’re lucky Lord Westcott came to your assistance rather than someone with perverse intentions.” The duke turned to Jasper. “You have my gratitude for keeping her safe, but I’ll take her home now. She’s obviously had a trying day.”
His words spurred something in Lady Gardenia, and she finally turned to Jasper. The eyes he’d admired so much were accusing.
“You sent for him?” she asked.
Jasper had not, and he would discover which of his servants had gossiped, sharing personal information about his household. But perhaps it was better this way. He had no business involving himself in the duke’s business.
Crossings’ mouth twitched. “You did not think anyone in Mayfair would keep you from me, did you? That Lord Westcott would keep me from my own daughter?” His tone carried heavy disdain.
Jasper recalled the desperation he’d seen on this woman earlier that morning. She’d been terrified, and his protective instincts stood on high alert.
But she was not his business.
“She is disinclined to the marriage,” Jasper said. “Have you dissolved the betrothal agreement?” It was as far as he dared. Because, truly, she was not his responsibility.
“A wise man makes the most of his assets. But that’s not your concern, Westcott.” The duke’s mouth pinched tight. “Into the carriage. Now, Gardenia.”
Lady Gardenia dropped her lashes as her father dragged her toward the door, and a sensation laden with guilt shot down Jasper’s spine.
