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you were also at the wine bar?”
    “Yes,” she mumbled.
    “You know, you need only ask.”
    Her gaze snapped to his. “What?”
    “In case you hadn’t realised, I do tend to be in the thick of things. If there is something you wish to know, I’m fairly certain I can find it out for you.”
    “That did occur to me after we’d met,” she admitted quietly.
    “So, what is it, Miss Foster, that is driving you to such extremes?”
    Miss Foster stared at her fingers again before seeming to come to a decision. Chin lifted, she met his gaze. “My sister is missing. She has been gone for over a week now.”
    “Your sister?”
    “Yes. She was staying with my aunt but it seems my sister kept her in ignorance as to her antics. Then one day she simply didn’t return home. My aunt sent word and I came to London as soon as I could.”
    “What about your father? Your mother? Should they not be looking for her?”
    “They are in Yorkshire at present, and for that I’m grateful. It would distress them most grievously.”
    “So you are gallivanting around London in the hopes of finding her?”
    “Or some information at least! Not even her friends can tell me where she went. She had been most mysterious. Her dearest friend mentioned the garden party at Lydworth House. She said Emma had talked of a gentleman attending there whom she was keen to see. I thought—”
    “Wait. Emma Foster?”
    “Yes, that’s her.”
    Jasper pinched the bridge of his nose. Of course. If he hadn’t been so arrogant maybe he would have considered the connection with more seriousness.
    “Do you know her?”
    “I did. I do.”
    Her mouth rounded. “But how? I meant to say, she’s no one of consequence, why would you—” Her brow furrowed. “You took advantage of her, did you not?” A finger jabbed his way and she stood, her chest puffed with indignation. It did little to quell his need. “She is pretty and young and has lived most of her life in the country. What easier conquest could there be? You, my lord, as despicable, you really are—”
    Jasper stood and snatched the finger pointed his way as it threatened to jab into his chest. This woman was lethal even without an umbrella.
    “Now, wait a minute. I never touched your sister. Even I have some scruples, no matter what your opinion is of me, Miss Foster.”
    “You never—” Her shoulders sagged. “Oh.”
    They were interrupted by the timely arrival of the butler and some tea and cake. Jasper motioned for her to sit once more and poured the tea. He didn’t ask how many sugars and made it sweet. The woman’s hands trembled. She needed the sugar.
    He handed over the cup, a little fearful she was going to spill the hot liquid everywhere, but she cradled it between both hands and a tear rolled down her face. Jasper’s insides bunched. He fished for a handkerchief and swiped the tear away. Miss Foster’s eyes rounded and she met his gaze but said nothing of the far too personal moment.
    He eased himself down next to her but ignored the tea. He had need of something more than sugar. A strong brandy ideally. How much should he tell Miss Foster of her sister? And where had the girl gone? Last he’d heard, she was remaining at her aunt’s while she decided how to tell her the awful news. But if she had gone...and in her condition...
    Jasper shook his head. This was all that devil Brandon’s fault. He should have challenged him to a fight or at least punched the man when he’d heard the news. After all, the Fosters had no one else to defend their honour. The idiot couldn’t care one jot about Emma and now the girl had run off.
    Damn, damn, damn. Why had she not come to him again? She had trusted him enough to tell him all only a month ago.
    What to tell her sister though? He nudged the cup of tea and she obediently took a sip. Miss Foster had suffered quite the trial, worrying about her sister and getting into all sorts of trouble. Really, he felt quite bad for her. How would she