much of your bosom hanging out of your bloody gown?”
Fine time for the bastard to take note of his sister.
He stepped forward, intent upon setting the matter straight. “You are forcing your sisters to dress like ladybirds and sing for your patrons whilst you are playing at tossing up petticoats. Do you know that one of those bleeding lords was intent upon forcing himself on Caro this evening? She is goddamned lucky I came upon her when I did.”
Sutton went ashen, his gaze flitting to his sister. “Caro? What the devil? Who did it? I’ll have the bastard banished from the hell.”
“It was Viscount Derby,” Caro said. “Have you had complaints about him from others?”
Sutton’s lip curled. “This will be the last complaint I receive about him. That’s a promise. But as for you, patient, what the hell were you doing in the public rooms? I’ve warned you not to cause trouble.”
“I would apologize but I’m not sorry I was there to help Caro. She won’t be singing for the entertainment of your patrons any longer, either.”
Sutton’s eyes narrowed as he regarded him, stroking his jaw. “You’re a bold one ain’t you, patient?”
The name irked him. He wanted to know who he was, damn it.
“I’m a protective one,” he corrected grimly. “Someone has to look after her. You and your siblings had thrown her to the wolves.”
“Timothy was on duty tonight,” Sutton said, addressing Caro once more. “Did you not see him?”
Caro shook her head. “One of the patrons accused another of cheating, and he’d gone to investigate. He hadn’t returned.”
“Curse it.” Sutton rubbed his jaw some more. “I’ll speak with him, and I’ll add guards to the floor.”
“Damned right you will,” he said, still furious over what could have happened to Caro and what she’d had to endure.
Sutton’s look turned speculative. “And what’re you doing chasing after my sister, patient? Didn’t I warn you to keep your distance?”
He raised a brow. “You can be glad I didn’t listen.”
A sharp laugh tore from the other man. “Christ. I’m starting to like you.”
He supposed that was a compliment, but with a man like Jasper Sutton, one could never be sure. Then again, with a missing memory, one couldn’t be sure of anything at all.
Chapter 9
Caro’s hands trembled as she awaited Gavin. She had performed every task she could as she counted the minutes until he would arrive at her room. Industriousness had distracted her as she took down her hair and brushed it, as she stepped out of her scandalous gown and tight stays, and as she slipped into a far more comfortable night rail with a dressing gown atop the entire affair. She had tidied the books on the bedside table. Had paced the carpet at least three dozen times. Had studied her reflection in the looking glass and draped all her hair over her left shoulder, then her right shoulder, and then she had heaved a sigh and sent it all cascading down her back.
Now, she was back to pacing the length of the chamber once more, wondering when he would arrive. And wondering whether or not she would go mad before he would appear. They had parted ways after their meeting with Jasper, and her heart was still overwhelmed with the manner in which he had championed her.
Her warrior had faced Lord Derby, and he had also faced Jasper. Not many men would have been brave enough to do so. How she admired him. He was kind and true and good, Gavin Winter. Her love for him was growing stronger by the day, and she knew without a doubt she would need to speak with Jasper in the morning, regardless of what happened between herself and Gavin tonight.
He deserved to know the truth, and she could no longer bear the burden of keeping it from him. Her promise to Jasper would have to be broken. Her love for Gavin came first.
A gentle tap sounded on the door, and she went racing across her chamber, stopping and passing a quick hand over her riotous hair before she opened the door. He smiled when he saw her, and God’s teeth, he was handsome when he smiled.
She rose on her toes and cast a furtive glance down the hall behind him to make certain no one was about. “Come in,” she whispered.
His grin deepened as he crossed the threshold, the door closing at his back. “Why are we whispering?”
She chuckled at his question, which had been asked in a soft undertone.