And burst into tears.
An Uninvited Passenger
Feeling unusually ill-tempered after leaving a rather volatile confrontation with Georgiana, the mistress he’d just cut loose, Jasper Perry, the Baron of Westcott, frowned. Although well-known as the Piccadilly Player, he’d never gone so far as to pick strange women up off the streets. As a rule, in fact, he limited himself to widows and courtesans, women he could trust.
But the woman huddling on the floor of his carriage was not a woman at all.
She was a lady. And judging by the quality of her gown, a wealthy one at that.
With rain streaming down in sheets now, and her urgent plea, he’d really had no choice but to act as her hero. It certainly had not hurt her cause when she’d stared up at him with huge crystal blue eyes, nor that the rain had turned her demure gown partially transparent.
A niggling persisted at the back of his neck. She was a lady, yes, but to whom did she belong?
There was something familiar about her.
Perhaps a better question was, who were the men chasing her? And why would perfectly respectable-looking gentlemen be chasing a lady down Hanover Square on a rainy Saturday morning?
But Jasper hadn’t considered any of that when she’d kneeled before him, tears clinging to her lashes, high breasts perfectly outlined by the clinging material and heaving as she gasped for air. What red-blooded man wouldn’t capitulate upon such a sight?
Even in her desperate state, with her hair streaming around her face and her gown soaked, she was stunning. And God and all of London knew that Jasper had never been one to deny a beautiful woman—desperate or otherwise.
Unfortunately, in addition to being beautiful, this woman—this lady—was crying. Which ought to make her less attractive but only made Jasper feel inexplicably useless.
At least this one wasn’t throwing hard objects at his head.
Blast and damn, less than twenty minutes had passed since he’d been forced to endure Georgiana’s dramatics. What must he have done to be punished by having to cope with two weeping women in one day?
A first for him.
“Nothing can be all that bad.” He made a valiant attempt to console her.
But she only cried harder.
Unfortunately, she either didn’t hear him or his assessment was wrong.
He rubbed the back of his neck and then reached out with his other hand to pat her shoulder. But good lord, she was freezing!
Jasper worked his arms free of his perfectly fitted, almost too-tight jacket and then draped the heavy wool over her.
Addressing her shivering mollified him somewhat. And it seemed to mollify her as her sobs quieted somewhat.
Or perhaps the wool only muted the sound.
“Where would you like to be dropped?” It seemed a reasonable enough question.
Although curious as to the reason for her histrionic entrance into his carriage, he best not become more involved than he already was.
Jasper was an eligible bachelor, alone in a carriage with a damsel in distress.
Unchaperoned.
And as lovely as she was, it was best he divest himself of this unexpected passenger before anyone became the wiser. And by anyone, he meant any member of the ton who might recognize his carriage.
A man such as himself, one who’d delay marriage until it was absolutely necessary, needed to keep his guard up constantly.
When she didn’t respond right away, he stiffened. What if her throwing herself into his coach was a scheme formulated by some matchmaking mama? He’d not put it past even the best of them.
It wasn’t vain for him to admit that he was considered an excellent catch. It was simply factual.
