Jasper managed to ignore her until she stumbled not far from the bar. She glanced around again and he saw colour spring up on her cheeks when her gaze connected with his. For some odd reason, he didn’t look away. Perhaps he simply liked making her more uncomfortable. That had to be it. He didn’t wish to think about a passably pretty face and fairly attractive brown curls creeping out from that...monstrosity on her head.
Anyway, was he not meant to be thinking of Constance? Constance and her painted lips and artfully decorated eyes. Constance who would not be seen dead with a brown hat and a starched collar. Constance who he had pursued quite fervently this week and fully intended to take to bed tonight so he could appreciate what he’d spied beneath those low bodices. Unfortunately Constance was not here yet and Miss Ugly Brown Hat was.
Miss Ugly Brown hat who was moving farther into the bar and starting to attract attention. It couldn’t be for her looks. There were plenty of decent-looking women in the bar, most of whom could be bought by the hour, but this lady had a look of utter naivety to her. Her nervous movements and darting gaze said easy mark. And if he knew anything about women’s clothing—which he did—hers was of decent quality. She was no princess but no pauper either. The likelihood was, she’d have a few bob on her.
Jasper tightened his grip on the wine glass. The patrons knew it too. He grimaced to himself. She was going to get herself in trouble. What was a woman like her doing in a place like this anyway? Certainly he spent time with women here but they were never alone and never made themselves look so vulnerable. No one would dare stare at Constance like that. She might be a rich widow but the patrons knew they’d never survive touching her.
He blew out a lengthy breath and placed down his glass. There was no escaping it. He’d have to go to her defence. Ugly hat or not, he couldn’t very well stand by and watch her be robbed.
Two men rose from their seats before he did and they were a darn sight closer. She had the look of a fox being chased by a hound as they approached. She gripped the umbrella and held it across her chest like a shield. One of the men leaned close to say something Jasper couldn’t catch to her. Then the other touched her.
Jasper came to his feet and strode over, fully prepared to grab the man who had latched a hand about her arm.
Before he reached her, there was a blur of movement and an oof from the man who’d dared to touch her. He staggered back and the woman whirled again, brandishing her umbrella like a sword. It was only when the touchy man retreated with a hand to his stomach did Jasper realise he’d nearly been impaled by an umbrella. He fought down a smirk when she turned the weapon on the other man and smacked him around the ear, rather like a naughty boy.
He let out a yowl and eyed the woman for several moments, perhaps deciding if she was worth the hassle. Clearly the blackguard decided no, as he retreated to join his friend while they nursed their wounds.
Jasper took a few steps forward and held up his hands when she turned the point of her umbrella to him.
“Stay back,” she warned, her voice slightly throaty and astonishingly appealing for a woman with an averagely pretty face.
“I have no intention of robbing you, ma’am. I am quite rich enough, thank you. But I would like to offer my protection.”
Her eyes narrowed at him from under the brim of her hat. “And who would protect me from you?”
“You need no protection from me, I can assure you.” He eyed the wavering end of the umbrella. “Let me escort you to a carriage.”
“I have no intention of leaving and certainly not with you.”
Jasper grimaced to himself. Why had he even bothered with her? She could clearly fend off an army with the lethal umbrella. “This is no place for a young lady such as yourself.”
“I’m aware of that. I just need to speak to the landlord.” She darted a look around.
“Well, you won’t find him here today.”
“How do you know that?”
“I’m a regular,” he drawled.
She lowered the umbrella and pushed up the brim of her hat enough to run her gaze over him. Her mouth opened then closed, as if debating what she would say next. She clamped it shut then shifted forward a step. “Who are you?”
He ignored her abruptness and even offered her a slight dip of his head. “Lord Jasper Cynfell.”
Realisation seeped into her eyes. Whoever this woman was, she was not wholly out of society if she recognised his name.
“Yes, I’ve heard of you.”
Jasper suspected by the tone of her voice she’d heard nothing good. Not that he was surprised. Only the men who longed to be like him would speak of him with praise. The mamas, protective fathers and any other uptight member of society would have nothing good to say of his antics.
What a bloody good job he didn’t give a fig for their opinions. He gave no apologies for living as he did. He enjoyed life, enjoyed sex, enjoyed...well enjoyment. It was not as though he had any responsibility to worry about, so why the hell not?
He ignored her pinched lip expression and grinned. “Now that we’ve established who I am, who do I have the honour of addressing?”
“Miss Henrietta Foster.”
The name meant nothing, although he did know a young woman by the name of Foster. He couldn’t imagine they were related. Miss Emma Foster was bright and radiant and quite the bold little thing. Too young to appeal to him but sadly young enough to be taken advantage of by some of his more unscrupulous friends. Yes, even he had his limits and young virgins was certainly one of them.
Running his gaze over her apparel again, he concluded there was no chance they were remotely related.
“Miss Foster, may I repeat my offer of escorting you to a hack?”
She peered around, though what she was searching for he didn’t know. “I’m quite capable of finding transport myself, my lord, thank you. Good evening to you.”
Armed with her umbrella, she pivoted away and ducked out of the door. Jasper eyed the doorway for several moments before heaving a sigh.
~~~
Sinful Liaisons (Cynfell Brothers Book 3) Page 13