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feel when she heard about Emma?
    He cleared his throat, drawing her gaze away from his desk where she’d been absently eyeing the clutter atop it.
    “I can help you find her, Miss Foster. If she has indeed quit London—which I think quite likely—then you shall not be able to find her alone. It would not be wise to go running all over England alone now, would it?”
    She shook her head slowly.
    “Will you let me assist in the search?”
    “I...” Her throat worked against the tight collar of shirt.
    Jasper Cynfell never claimed he was an angel. He was concerned for this woman and her sister, yes, but that didn’t stop him from imagining flicking off that ugly cameo broach and undoing her shirt to reveal an expanse of flesh.
    “Yes,” she replied.
    He had to stare at her for a few moments to realise she hadn’t just granted him permission to begin ravishing her. She wasn’t even his type. Curvaceous and passably pretty aside, he liked women who knew what they were doing in bed. Miss Henrietta Foster would likely remain as stiff as a board when being tumbled, and what a bore that would be.
    “I really feel as if I didn’t know my sister all,” she said on a sigh. “I thought I did, but even I was deceived, especially if she was spending time with someone like—” She clamped her mouth shut.
    Someone like him. A rake, a seducer, the kind of man mamas warned their daughters about. She was right. He was all of those and it never really bothered him before. No one had ever made him want to prove otherwise. However, there was something about her pinched lips and disdainful expression that made him want to declare there was more to him than that.
    A foolish notion indeed. If he didn’t give a fig about what society thought of him, why should he care what this woman thought of him?
    “I shall begin my search for your sister tomorrow.”
    “I...I thank you.” Her brows dipped. “Why are you helping me, my lord?”
    “I have to have something to keep me occupied,” he replied blithely. “After all, what else is a rake about the town meant to do when he’s not seducing innocent women?” That tell-tale colour surged into her cheeks again, and he grinned. “Now let me find something suitable for you to wear. Thankfully I have a few gowns at my disposal. Comes in handy, I find...”
    He didn’t mention they were for his conquests because he didn’t need to. Miss Foster was a clever woman and understood well enough why he kept ladies’ clothing in his townhouse.
    Though perhaps she didn’t quite understand exactly why. After ruining one too many gowns, it seemed sensible to have a supply and sometimes the odd garment or two got left behind. Now he had a veritable treasure trove of dresses.
    Trying not to think about how he wouldn’t mind ruining that starched shirt and long skirt further, Jasper went off to hunt out a gown.

Chapter Four
    Lord Jasper might be searching for information but that wasn’t going to stop Hettie. For all she knew, he could have woken up and forgotten all about his offer of help.
    As she walked toward Clara’s house, she brushed a hand down her sensible skirt and tried not to recall the gown she’d ended up wearing last night. It had been made of silk and though it was modest enough, it had clung to her figure in a way that had made all of her curves look so much more than bountiful. She couldn’t deny she’d spent quite a few moments staring at herself in the mirror and wondering exactly who that person in the reflection was.
    Then she wondered what Lord Jasper had thought of her, which was ridiculous. She couldn’t possibly compare to women like the one in the carriage.
    Hand to her new hat, she hurried along. She wanted to be sure to catch Clara before she went out for the day. The girl had to know more about her sister’s antics. She’d never even mentioned they spent time with someone like Lord Jasper. Hettie was keen to find out what else her sister’s friend had been