Page 28 of Adeline

He could only imagine the struggle for her to remain in her sidesaddle, burdened with the weight of her saturated gown and the icy bite of the wind in her face.

The most outrageous occurrence rocked Jasper to his core.

He was angry—or still angry.

He hadn’t felt such raw, powerful fury in many years. He’d truly only been overcome by this level of emotion twice: directly following his parents’ deaths, and then again when his aunt had succumbed. Aunt Alice had been like a mother to him, and she’d been taken far too early for a woman as caring and alive as she.

On those two occasions, Jasper had been well aware what caused his shift in mood.

But, as he stalked into the foyer, he could not reconcile what had upset him so on this occasion.

Was his ire at Emily for offering the bloody riding habit for Adeline to wear?

Was he angry at Abbington’s part in locating the woman’s bow and quiver among her stowed belongings?

Did he resent his stable master’s betrayal for having a horse saddled for her to ride?

Or, more pointedly, did his annoyance lay solely with himself for bringing the woman to Faversham Abbey in the first place?

Jasper wasn’t certain how he’d expected his servants to react to their surprise guest, but catering to her every whim, even defying his orders, was not it at all.

Faversham was not a safe place for the likes of Miss Adeline, especially when the woman was hell-bent on finding trouble at every turn.

He growled as Abbington wrapped a blanket about his quaking shoulders at the same time his wife, Mrs. Hutchins, did the same for Adeline.

When had Jasper started thinking of the woman as simply Adeline?

She was still a stranger to him—and he to her.

“See that Miss Adeline is taken to her chambers immediately, and have dry, clean clothes brought for her.” He addressed Abbington and his housekeeper, who no doubt watched his every move. “We cannot have her returning to London and her family ill.”

Or have her stranded for a longer period of time at Faversham Abbey while she convalesced.

His feet sloshed in his Hessians as he stomped into the library, slamming the door behind him. The echo dared any of his most loyal servants to betray him again—or to so much as stray a single step from his commands.

Bloody damnation.

The woman was nothing but a distraction, a dangerous disruption to his orderly life.

Jasper poured himself a healthy tumbler of Scotch, emptied the glass in one swallow, and poured another before moving before the hearth. After only a moment of pacing, he tossed the blanket Abbington had wrapped around his shoulders to the lounge followed by his wet jacket. His shirt and trousers were also soaked through, but blessedly, the spirits had halted the worst of his shivers.

The energy he’d exerted while extricating Grovedale was enough to keep the worst of the cold at bay, and his clenched jaw stopped his teeth from chattering. Miss Adeline hadn’t had the same adrenaline rush to keep her chills under control.

If anyone deserved to catch the ague, it was Jasper.

He’d brought the trouble into his normally peaceful and well-maintained home. It was his own fault that memories, longings, and guilt from his past assaulted him at every turn since the woman arrived. It had been years since he explored his unending guilt over his parents’ deaths or allowed the all-consuming anger to take hold of him in such a way.

The carriage needed to be repaired with all due haste.

As soon as Watson returned from seeing Grovedale home, he would demand the servant work all evening—and into the night—to make certain Miss Adeline was on her way back to London at first light.

Jasper took a healthy swallow from his tumbler, welcoming the sting as it traveled down his throat and warmed his stomach further.

It was imperative that he suppress his anger and keep the beast that threatened to overtake him at bay. It would not be at Jasper’s hand that the villager’s suspicions were confirmed. He may appear the beast outwardly but he’d worked every day of his life to make certain that inside he was kind, compassionate, and ever the noble gentleman and lord.

One day, he had faith, his ugly mask would fall and his people would see the man beneath.

Today had not been that day, no matter the good Jasper did.