And then she burst into tears.
Chapter Ten
Jack had envisioned surprising the audacious Lady Charlene. He had hoped coming out of the shadows would frighten her, therefore scaring the truth out of her before he decided whether he should help his brother win her or warn him off. Jack wasn’t aware of all her sins but he knew the criminal element when he saw it. The lads she’d been with were bad news.
What he had not expected was for her to break down weeping, and he had absolutely no idea of what to do. He’d never been good with female tears. He avoided them as much as possible.
She stood on the street, dressed like a young buck, her head bowed, and sobbed. The sounds grew stronger with each passing second until she was hiccupping.
Worse, she was gaining the attention of passersby.
Jack tried to quiet her. “My lady—” he started, and then realized he did not want to give away her sex. Not with a band of unruly sailors standing by a public house’s door, tossing back one ale after another.
“Laddie,” he amended lamely. “Now, laddie.”
His words caused her to cry louder. It was as if once started, she didn’t want to stop.
The sailors now craned their necks, elbowing each other to look in Jack’s direction. One yelled something that Jack did not want to hear. Strangers passing began to slow their steps. Crude and knowing glances were sent their way.
“Come, let’s leave here,” he ordered, putting a sheltering arm around her shoulder, and then realizing his mistake.
The men of the sea were on it immediately. Catcalls and hoots were sent up.
Jack immediately dropped his arm and instead picked her up by the scruff of the neck, using his other hand to keep her hat on her head.
“Come,” he ordered, anxious to escape the scrutiny of the street, and marched her around the corner.
This street was quieter than the other. There was a small tavern close at hand and he directed her in there. She was down to sniveling now, her eyes and nose red.
Considering what a stunning beauty she was normally, Jack rather liked the fact that crying brought her down a notch, humanizing her.
The tavern was very dark, which was perfect for Jack’s purposes. The front room was crowded with patrons but, taking her sleeve, he pulled her through them and found tables in a back room. No one was there so he went to the farthest corner and plopped her down, bouncing his hand on her hat to make certain it stayed there.
He looked for a tavern maid. She’d caught sight of him coming in and hurried over. “Ale,” Jack said. He threw some coins down on the table.
“Two?” she questioned.
“No, an ale, and a cider,” he decided, not knowing what ladyish drink to order. Cider should do. Lady Charlene was calming down but he needed her spirits bolstered before he questioned her.
The maid left. Lady Charlene sat in the chair with her hands at her sides. She was beaten, done for it. Jack didn’t know if he liked her this way.
Slowly she looked up and around as if she hadn’t been aware of her surroundings.
And she wasn’t. “Where are we?”
“Around the corner from where I met you.”
She nodded as if remembering and then rubbed the tears from her face with the sleeve of her coat, an honest gesture, one unhampered by anything coy or crafty. “I didn’t mean to carry on that way. I lost all sense of self. This has been a very trying day.”
“It must be.”
“I don’t usually cry,” she informed him with a hint of defiance. “It never solves anything.”
“And what were you trying to solve?”
Now that he knew her sex, he marveled he could have ever mistaken her for a boy. Her lashes were dark and long and right now spiky from her tears. Even the line of her jaw had a feminine tilt.
Before she could answer his question, the serving maid returned with their drinks in tankards. Raucous laughter followed her out of the main room and her attention was, fortunately, on it instead of a man and a weepy lad. She set down the drinks, picked up the money, and hurried back to her more interesting customers.
