A Forgetful Lady (Regency Ladies #2)

Benedict Fortescue, the Earl of Coventry, is on his way to his estate in Worcestershire, looking to put some distance between London—and his mother’s insistence that he find a suitable wife—and himself. But he halts the carriage as he sees a woman unconscious on the side of the road, and intrigued and captivated, he takes her to his estate to let her recover.
The lady wakes up with no notion of who she is or memories of her life. She doesn't know how she ended up in the middle of the road or anything at all. She is given a place to stay while Benedict asks around, and by the time he gets a possible answer, he finds he does not wish to part from her.

Warning: There are explicit romantic scenes. For mature audiences (+18).
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Excerpt
Benedict Fortescue, the Earl of Coventry, was on his way to his estate in Worcestershire. He had been looking forward to setting some distance between himself and London.
His mother’s constant reminder that he was eight and twenty, single, quite handsome, and needing an heir, were starting to get on his nerves. Hence, some weeks—maybe even months—in Worcestershire could be a good change.
He was looking out the open window at the changing landscape when something on the side of the empty road caught his attention.
“Stop!” Benedict shouted at the coachman and the carriage halted.
He jumped out as the coachman and footman frowned at him, but he ignored them.
The rain of the previous summer night had left mud, and among bushes and in a basic brown gown he saw an unconscious woman. Her brown hair was tangled, she was pale and her lips were full and red, and she had long lashes that made Benedict think she was probably quite beautiful under different circumstances.
“My Lord,” the footman walked up to him. “That’s probably a harlot, sleeping off a night of gin.”
Benedict checked to see if she was still breathing, and when he moved her head he saw dry blood on the side of her forehead. And in the entangled hair, an emerald pin.
“She’s not a harlot,” Benedict said as he struggled to pick her in his arms and he then carried her into the carriage as the coachman and footman stared, astonished. “I think she’s a lady. I shall call for a physician or surgeon once we get to the estate. Let us waste no more time,” he nodded at them and soon enough the carriage started moving again.
Benedict watched the woman lying in front of him and felt a pang in his chest.
Was she, in fact, a lady?
Besides the pin there was no other jewelry, her gown was nothing particularly noteworthy, and there were no marks of a wedding ring. She appeared to be twenty or so, but that didn’t mean anything.
And why had she been in the middle of the road? Had she been on her way to London, or fleeing just as he had been? Had someone left her to fend for herself?
She didn’t strike him as fragile, but no gentleman could leave a lady on her own, especially not in the road where she could be easily attacked by highwaymen.
Benedict was suddenly quite angry, and he found himself yearning to learn everything about the lady because he felt a strange urge to avenge her. He would make sure that whoever had left her in such a state of disarray would face justice.
The lady had to survive.