‘Consider it done.’ They stopped at the Avondale back gate, both smiling at the joke but neither really meaning it. ‘What’s a bit of arson between friends?’ Jasper sighed and allowed his true emotions to show. ‘Thank you for today and for everything, Hattie. Your timely and unswerving friendship has meant the world to me.’
She turned away from him to open the gate. ‘Don’t you dare say goodbye to me, Jasper Beaufort. Don’t you dare.’ When the lock wouldn’t budge she bashed it in frustration. ‘This is a farewell and nothing more.’ She growled at the stuck gate and spun around to lean against it. ‘In fact, I plan to convince Jim to come feed the ducks with me at that little park I discovered off Beaverbrook Square the day after tomorrow. We shall be there around noon if you and Izzy happen to stumble across us.’
She had done enough.
Been kind enough.
Rescued him enough.
Risked enough.
‘I am starting to think you are a bad influence, Hattie Fitzroy, with all your outrageous lies and machinations.’ He had to be noble. Be unselfish and do the right thing, not least because he had promised her brother and a promise was sacrosanct.
He had to save her from her own rash but admirable tendency to rescue above all else, and most importantly, he had to be the bigger person and stop allowing her to rescue him. As much as it saddened him to do it, it was time to say goodbye—for her sake.
Jasper nudged her out of the way, going to war with himself as he attempted to open the blasted gate. ‘But if I am going to be led astray, I might as well do it in style and bring a picnic.’ Clearly, she was scrambling his wits, or he was the most selfish man who ever walked the earth—or both. Annoyed at himself and yet incapable of retracting his outrageous acceptance of her invitation he huffed in double defeat. ‘But in the meantime, this gate is locked from the inside.’
‘I didn’t realise they locked it while the family are out, else I’d have brought a key!’ Panic skittered across her lovely moonlit features now. ‘What am I going to do, Jasper? How am I going to explain being out when I claimed I couldn’t walk!’
He scanned the size of the wall, which wasn’t much taller than him. ‘Can you climb?’
‘I used to be able to but thanks to my dratted leg I have no idea and...’ As she was flapping he placed a finger over her lips, regretting it instantly because he was desperate to kiss them.
‘If I heave you upwards and you sit on the top, then I can climb over and help you down.’
She blew out a breath as she nodded. ‘That might work.’
Jasper crouched and cupped his hands, and after several misstarts while she tested which limb would work best, she plumped for leaning heavily on his shoulder to stand on her bad leg, so that she could use the good one to launch herself upwards. Except while she threw both arms over the top of the wall, she lost momentum and simply dangled, her delectable bottom level with his face.
There was no gentlemanly way of manoeuvring her, so with an apology and a wince which was more for himself than for her, he filled his hands with her distracting backside and pushed. Thankfully, that did the trick and with some effort she managed to straddle the wall, but not before her womanly body gave his wayward one even more ideas it had no right having. Such carnal and erotic ideas her brother had every right to want to shoot him for.
As Hattie watched, Jasper hauled himself up to sit beside her then almost groaned aloud at the sight before him because the Avondale garden was sunk lower than the alleyway. Which meant the six-foot wall they had climbed had a drop of at least eight on the other side, so getting her down wasn’t going to be either pretty or proper, and would involve a great deal more manhandling, which he wasn’t entirely certain he could cope with.
But it couldn’t be helped. He had to step up in her hour of need, just as she had so many times already in his, and if that played havoc with his urges, then he would just have to manage.
Thanks to his long legs and upper body strength, Jasper managed to lower himself down far enough to be able to jump the short distance to the lawn below. He took a deep breath to steel himself for the inevitable torture to come, then held out his arms. ‘I think the best thing for you to do is to swing your legs over backwards while using your arms to hold the top of the wall.’
Hattie did not look convinced. ‘I am going to die, or worse, I shall break the other leg.’
‘You shan’t do either as I will catch you. The alternative is you stay up there until one of the servants spots you and raises the alarm because they think the house is being burgled or your family return—either way the jig will be up and Freddie will kill us both. Come on...’ He stretched up his arms. ‘I have got you.’
Reluctantly she twisted and began to do as he said, dangling first one shapely leg then the other over the edge as she clung to the brickwork for dear life. To assist, he tried to take her weight by reaching for her waist but ended up having to grapple with her bottom again. For the sake of his own sanity, he grabbed her silk-clad right ankle to position it in a foothold, only to have her snatch it away and flail in panic.
‘I didn’t mean to hurt you!’ Now he felt dreadful, remembering too late that it was her right leg which had been damaged. ‘I’ll be more gentle!’ Yet despite that reassurance, she still did everything in her power to stop him from catching it and his tenuous grip of her began to fail. ‘For the love of God, Hattie! Let me help, woman!’
He lunged and caught her calf again in the nick of time, and she froze but finally allowed him to guide it to a protruding brick to steady herself while using himself from head to waist wedged against her as a support. A position which was such pure, unmitigated torture he decided the most prudent course of action was to speed up the proceedings rather than slow them down. In desperation, he wrapped his arms around her waist and suffered the feel of his cheek buried in her bottom for only as long as it took for him to pull her free. He staggered backwards and almost fell, but she had the great good sense to twist at the last moment enough to brace her arms on his shoulders before she slithered all the way down his body until her feet found the floor.
‘That was close.’ Off balance, she giggled, her palms splayed against his chest to steady herself, her warm breath caressing his face, those equally distracting pert bosoms now flattened against his ribs while his hands learned the exact shape of the curve of her hips. Information they did not need so hot on the heels of enjoying her bottom. ‘For a moment there, I thought we were done for!’ Then she smiled up at him and managed to completely bewitch him in the process. ‘Thanks for catching me and getting me home. At least now I won’t have to convince my idiot brother not to meet you on the duelling field.’
Jasper should have chuckled back. Offered an acceptable flippant comment along the lines of ‘happy to be of service’ or ‘all’s well that ends well’. Put some polite distance between them. Bid her goodnight. Behave like the good friend she deserved. The platonic and steadfast good friend she deserved.
But he didn’t.
Instead, he stared deep into her eyes. Allowed one finger to twirl in a stray curl which bounced against her cheek and heard himself say, ‘Frankly, Hattie, some things are worth duelling for.’
And then, because he meant that with every fibre of his being, he closed the distance between his mouth and hers and nearly—very nearly—kissed her lips.