But even more interesting was the fact that he’d changed his mind, stopped them, carried her out of there like some noble knight.
He’d gone out of his way to make certain Rochdale would see him, standing at the edge of the crowd, and his reaction was all St. John could have asked for. He would have thought he was still on the continent, where he’d fled after the debacle with Rochdale’s mistress. But he was back, and it was clear from the expression on the earl’s face that the woman had no idea he’d hired him in the first place.
And if it was something he’d kept secret then he’d most likely continue to do so. And be willing to pay a comfortable sum of money to ensure St. John’s discretion.
Life certainly took the damnedest turns.
He would find where Rochdale was staying and pay him a little visit, when his mistress was nowhere around. Blackmail was always better than revenge, but he’d take the latter if Rochdale refused to pay. Rochdale had always had the ability to terrify him, but this time he held all the cards.
In the meantime, he was going to enjoy himself. And he turned back and moved into the crowd.
Jacob wouldn’t have woken Miss Jane Pagett if he could have helped it. When the carriage came to an unexpected stop he carefully disentangled himself from her sleeping body and opened the door a
s quietly as he could, jumping down into the cool night air. After consulting with Simmons, the best driver in half of London, if not all, he tried to climb back in as quietly as he had left, but she was already wide-awake, staring at him out of sleepy eyes.
God, he loved the look of a woman as she was just waking up. There was something so blissfully erotic about it, the softness of her mouth, the vulnerability in her eyes. A vulnerability that suddenly disappeared as her eyelashes swept down.
“What’s happened?” she asked.
He’d been hoping not to have to tell her, but his Jane was just a bit too sharp. “The left leader’s thrown a shoe. We’re almost at the next posting house, but we may be facing a bit of a delay. ”
There was no missing the alarm that swept through her. “But what if we’re too late?”
“Hush, lass,” he said in a soothing voice as the carriage started forward, this time at a snail’s pace. “Scorpion’s more than capable of seeing after his woman. He’s more dangerous than you might think, and he’s not about to let anyone touch her. He’ll have changed his mind, you’ll see. ”
She didn’t look reassured. He started to cross the carriage, to sit beside her again, when she held up a restraining hand. “You don’t need to comfort me, Mr. Donnelly. I’m not a child. I’m simply worried about my friend. ”
“I know you are, lass. And I …”
“You m … may call me Miss Pagett. ” Her voice was high and nervous, and she didn’t meet his eyes. “And I don’t care how angry that makes you. ”
He cocked his head. “It doesn’t make me angry, Miss Pagett,” he said with faint ironic emphasis. “It just puzzles me. Have I done something to offend you?”
“Of course not,” she said in an aggrieved voice, and it was a good thing she couldn’t see in the dark, because his smile widened.
Women really were the damnedest creatures. He’d been so very careful not to frighten her, simply holding her carefully in the crook of his arm while she slept. He knew the rules of decent behavior, even though he seldom chose to follow them. For all that he wanted nothing more than to push Miss Jane Pagett down on the narrow seat of the carriage and find his way beneath her skirts, he knew that sort of thing wasn’t done. Any more than visiting her room at the inn, or taking her on the floor in her own salon by the side of her unconscious fiancé, even though he’d briefly considered all those things.
Author: Anne Stuart
He wasn’t quite sure when or how or if he could have her. She was a proper young lady, despite what that bastard had yelled at her, and she deserved a proper husband. If he’d ruined things for her by taking her off like this then maybe he stood a chance.
But if she somehow managed to squeak through with her reputation intact then he’d stand aside. The kind of life he offered was much too rough for the likes of her, though she was more resilient than she seemed. And for her to have a chance at that proper life she needed her virginity intact, as well.
Of course he’d agreed to take her on the hope that Bothwell had talked and she was already ruined. That he would end up being the best of bad choices, and he’d never let her regret it.
But now it didn’t seem to matter, since for some reason she was so angry with him she probably wouldn’t ever want to see him again.
There was a faint sliver of moonlight shining in the carriage as they turned a corner, and he thought he saw the sheen of tears in her eyes. “What’s wrong, lass?” he said in a gentle voice. “Are you that worried about your friend?”
“Of course I am,” she said, and now he could hear the tears in her voice. “Why else would I be here, with you, in the middle of the night …?”
Enough was enough. He crossed the rocking carriage and took her into his arms, half expecting a struggle. Instead she burst into tears, burying her face against his shoulder, and he held her, whispering soft, meaningless phrases until she slowly calmed.
“You don’t need to do this,” she said in a damp, sulky voice.
“Don’t need to hold a girl in my arms? It’s a sore trial to me, but I’m willing to make the effort. ”
He heard a watery giggle and was encouraged. Her hair was starting to come down, and he stroked the back of her neck beneath it, gently massaging the tension away. Her quiet sound of pleasure had the expected effect on his body, and he wished he had a free hand to adjust himself, but with luck she wouldn’t notice. She probably wouldn’t even recognize the problem.