Читать книгу Tall, Dark... Collection - Кэрол Мортимер, Carole Mortimer - Страница 61

‘Jane…?’

Jane did her best to ignore the curricle—and its driver—as it drew alongside her, and walked determinedly along the lane that would take her to the road to London.

‘Is it you beneath that bonnet, Jane?’ The query was repeated impatiently.

She turned her face to the curricle, her smile rueful as she looked into the frowningly handsome face of Justin Long, Earl of Whitney, where he sat atop his curricle in complete control of a pair of lively-looking greys. ‘It is indeed I, sir,’ she confirmed dryly as she continued to walk.

‘What the deuce are you doing wandering around the countryside unchaperoned?’he demanded disapprovingly.

Jane raised mocking brows. ‘Our conversation yesterday evening led me to believe that you are the last person to be concerned with the proprieties, sir.’

He looked irritated by the jibe. ‘Some of those proprieties are unavoidable, Jane. The unsuitability of a single young lady roaming the countryside unchaperoned is one of them,’ he added with a frown. ‘You—Jane, will you stop marching along in that military style and tell me what the devil you think you are doing?’

‘Partaking of the air?’ she returned tauntingly as she continued to ‘march’.

Blond brows met over censorious blue eyes. ‘I do not believe my question was an invitation to facetiousness, Jane.’

No, Jane was sure that it was not. It was only that if she didn’t answer him in this offhand manner she knew that she would in all probability burst into the tears that had been threatening since she had packed her small bag and departed from Mulberry Hall an hour ago.

And she didn’t want to cry—was sure that once she started she would not be able to stop.

‘Jane, have I not instructed you to cease this infernal marching?’ the Earl reminded her sternly.

Jane came to an abrupt halt in the lane and turned to glare up at him, an angry flush to her cheeks. ‘I no more take orders from you, sir, than I do the Duke of Stourbridge!’

‘Ah.’

Jane bristled at his knowing expression. ‘And exactly what is meant by that, My Lord?’ she demanded resentfully.

His expression was mockingly derisive. ‘Argued with the young Duke, have you?’

‘And what business is it of yours if I have?’ Jane eyed him challengingly.

The Earl gave a rueful smile. ‘Only that I would dearly have liked to witness that unusual occurrence!’

‘Because you are still annoyed at his conquest of your Countess?’

The Earl gave an appreciative shout of laughter. ‘Please tell me that you and the Duke did not argue over dear Margaret?’

‘We did not,’ Jane snapped, deeply irritated by his amusement at their expense. ‘Now, if you will excuse me, My Lord, I must be on my way—What are you doing?’ She frowned as he secured his reins before leaping agilely down from the curricle to stand at her side, looking as rakishly handsome as ever, in a tailored blue jacket that matched the colour of his eyes, breeches so tight in fit it was obvious that he owed none of his physique to padding, and a pair of highly polished Hessians.

‘My dear Jane,’ the Earl drawled, ‘you do not seriously think that even the Earl of Whitney, having been made aware of your lonely state here on a public byway, would simply continue his journey back to London as if nothing untoward had happened?’

That was exactly what Jane had been hoping. Although the Earl’s mention of his destination changed her thoughts somewhat…

She forced a smile. ‘If you really wish to be of help to me, sir, then you will offer me a seat in your curricle to London.’

The frown returned to his brow as he eyed her speculatively. ‘And what happens then, Jane? Does your guardian challenge me to another duel? Or will you settle for those damned matriarchs of Society demanding that as I have compromised you I must now marry you?’

Jane gasped. ‘I wish for neither of those things, My Lord! I care nothing for the demands of the matriarchs of Society. The Duke and I have—parted ways. It is my belief that he is no longer concerned with what becomes of me.’

No doubt Hawk, once he got over his anger at Jane for having disobeyed him once again, would actually be relieved at having her disruptive presence removed from his household. Especially as she was now accused of being a thief!

‘Then, my dear Jane, it is my belief that you do not know the Duke of Stourbridge as well as he might wish.’ The Earl eyed her pityingly. ‘The man is enthralled by you, you little goose!’ he added impatiently at Jane’s blank expression.

She could not deny that the Duke found her physically appealing—that would be impossible after the events of yesterday evening!—but he most certainly was not ‘enthralled’ by her. If Hawk had felt any affection for her at all then surely he would have believed her earlier this morning, when she had assured him of her innocence concerning the disappearance of Lady Sulby’s jewels?

‘I assure you that you are mistaken, My Lord,’ she said flatly.

He smiled. ‘And I assure you that I am not,’ he drawled, staring at her wordlessly for several long minutes before giving an impatient inclination of his head. ‘Very well, Jane,’ he murmured slowly. ‘For you I will break the rule of a lifetime and allow a woman up into my curricle with me.’

Her face lit up with pleasure. ‘Oh, thank you, My Lord! You will not regret your decision, I promise you,’ she vowed, as she plucked up her skirts in order that he might help her climb into the elegance of his open carriage.

‘Believe me, Jane, I already do!’ the Earl muttered, his expression grim as he moved to climb in beside her and take up the reins once more.

Jane smiled happily as the greys moved forward, completely unconcerned by the Earl’s sarcasm now that he had agreed to take her to London with him. Although she did seem to be making rather a habit of accepting lifts in the carriages of unmarried gentlemen, she acknowledged ruefully. Rakishly handsome unmarried gentlemen.

‘I may rethink my decision if you do not cease looking so smugly self-satisfied, Jane!’ the Earl warned her with a scowl.

Jane at once lowered her head to look at him demurely from beneath her bonnet.

The Earl raised scathing brows. ‘If anything, that is worse!’

She gave a relaxed laugh. ‘You are very difficult to please, My Lord.’

‘Am I…?’ He easily maintained control of the greys as he continued to look at her frowningly.

‘Yes…’ Jane found herself disconcerted by that look. None of the consummate flirt of the evening before was now evident in the seriousness of the Earl’s expression. Her smile faded. ‘Why do you look at me so intently, My Lord?’

He turned sharply away. ‘It is of no matter, Jane.’

Jane continued to look at him for several long seconds. ‘It is my belief, sir, that you are not quite as others see you…’ she finally murmured slowly.

His gaze was puzzled as he glanced at her. ‘What can you mean, Jane?’

She shook her head. ‘You would have people believe there is no more to the Earl of Whitney that the flirtatious rogue.’

His mouth twisted. ‘But Jane Smith does not believe that to be so?’

‘I know it is not so, My Lord.’ She nodded. ‘There is a kindness in you—the same kindness as coming to my rescue just now—that you do not like others to see.’

His mouth twisted into a grimace. ‘You are far too astute for a young lady of such tender years, Jane Smith.’

‘So I have already been informed, My Lord.’

‘By Stourbridge, no doubt.’ He nodded knowingly. ‘Poor devil.’ He gave a rueful shake of his head. ‘You seem to have succeeded in shaking him from his pedestal of untarnished superiority.’

She shook her head. ‘Not so untarnished, My Lord, considering that the two of you appear to have recently shared a mistress!’

The Earl gave a shout of appreciative laughter. ‘Far too forthright, Jane!’

She shrugged. ‘I am merely stating the facts. It is you and the Duke who must take credit for the contents of that truth.’

The Earl’s attention was drawn to the greys for several minutes. ‘I believe, Jane,’ he said grimly, once he had the lively greys under control, ‘that we will save the rest of this conversation until I can give it—and you—my full attention.’

As far as Jane was concerned they could continue the rest of their journey in silence. Her only interest was in reaching London and from there continuing on to Norfolk. Talking of Hawk only caused her pain. Discussing his most recent mistress with the man who had been the Countess’s previous lover only reminded Jane of her own immodest behaviour with Hawk the previous evening.

From there it was only a short distance to remembering their conversation earlier this morning.

And the disturbing conclusion she had made during that conversation.

Could it truly be that Sir Barnaby was her real father? All the evidence—the previously unknown Sir Barnaby being appointed her guardian, Lady Sulby’s hatred of her and her mother—pointed to that being the case.

In those circumstances it had perhaps been unwise of her adopted father to have made Sir Barnaby her guardian, but the fact that there had been no one else he could leave Jane’s future care to had probably meant he had had no choice in the matter.

No, any mistake must lie at Sir Barnaby’s door, by his even attempting to introduce his illegitimate daughter into his own household, let alone expecting her to be accepted by his wife and legitimate child…

‘This is not the way to London, My Lord!’ Jane realised frowningly as they passed a sign at the side of the road that indicated London was in the opposite direction from the one in which they were now travelling.

The Earl gave an abrupt inclination of his head. ‘It really is most unsuitable for you, a woman alone, to go to London with me, Jane.’

She glared at him fiercely. ‘It is for me to decide where I will go and who I will go with, My Lord!’

‘No, Jane, it is not.’ He gave a firm shake of his head.

‘Where are you taking me?’ Jane demanded. But she already knew the answer to that question. The countryside about the Stourbridge estate was familiar to her…

‘I am sure that you believe your reasons for leaving Mulberry Hall to be valid ones—’

‘They most certainly are!’

‘Perhaps,’ the Earl allowed grimly. ‘But I somehow doubt Stourbridge would agree with you.’

‘I believed you to be a man who was not frightened of the high-and-mighty Duke of Stourbridge!’ Jane scorned.

‘I am not, Jane,’ the Earl assured her softly. ‘It is you that frightens me,’ he added enigmatically.

‘Me?’ she echoed impatiently, her desperation rising as she saw the mellow outline of Mulberry Hall in the distance.

‘You.’ He nodded frowningly, his mouth twisting derisively. ‘Did you not fear what might happen to you once you found yourself alone and unprotected in London?’

‘No, of course not.’

‘That is precisely the reason you frighten me, Jane,’ he said grimly. ‘You are too innocent, Jane.’

‘I am not such an innocent, My Lord,’ she assured him dully, fully aware that yesterday evening she had all but given that innocence to Hawk St Claire, Duke of Stourbridge.

The Earl pulled his greys to a halt before turning to study Jane, and her cheeks coloured under the intensity of that experienced gaze.

‘Stourbridge made love to you last night?’ he finally rasped harshly.

Jane gasped. ‘That is none of your concern, sir—’

‘I am making it so, Jane!’

She was tired, so very tired, of the Duke of Stourbridge and now the Earl of Whitney taking such an interest in the innocence that was surely hers to give where she pleased.

‘I will find some other way in which to travel to London,’ she dismissed impatiently, and she turned to climb from the carriage.

The Earl moved swiftly, already on the ground at her side as she stepped down from the curricle. Steely fingers grasped her arm. ‘You are not going anywhere until I have got to the bottom of this situation.’

‘Can you not see that I do not require your help, My Lord?’ Jane demanded impatiently, glaring up at him as he refused to release her.

His mouth twisted derisively. ‘I do not believe that I asked for your permission to help you.’

Jane’s brows rose disgustedly. ‘Heaven preserve me from interfering, over-protective men such as you!’

He gave a humourless smile. ‘And Stourbridge?’

‘I neither wish to speak of nor see the Duke of Stourbridge ever again!’

The Earl shrugged. ‘That is rather unfortunate.’

Jane eyed him suspiciously. ‘Why?’

The Earl’s gaze moved over and past her flushed face to a distance over her left shoulder. ‘Because, unless I am very much mistaken, we are about to be joined by the man himself,’ he drawled pointedly.

Jane turned sharply on her heel to look at a horse and rider some distance away, the colour draining from her cheeks as she recognised—as, obviously, had the Earl of Whitney!—that rider to be none other than Hawk, Duke of Stourbridge.

She found herself too surprised to move as horse and rider drew steadily nearer. In fact, as they drew near enough for her to see the grim savagery of Hawk’s expression, Jane actually found herself moving a step closer to the Earl of Whitney.

‘Now the fun begins,’ the Earl murmured dryly, as Hawk drew the prancing black horse to a halt only feet away, before jumping lithely to the ground and striding purposefully towards them.

Fun? Jane was sure that she had never felt less like having ‘fun’ in her life!

Hawk had never experienced such rage. It filled him. Consumed him. Until he could see nothing but Jane, as she stood looking at him so defiantly next to the Earl of Whitney. A man Hawk was rapidly coming to view as his enemy.

When Hawk had realised Jane had once again fled—after being assured by Arabella that Jane was nowhere to be found, either in the house or about the estate, that in fact she feared Jane had left without a word to either of them—he had hurried to Jane’s room to confirm her disappearance for himself.

As Arabella had claimed, the bedroom was empty except for the new cream lace gown and gloves she had worn the previous evening, which he had taken such delight in removing.

And, tauntingly, on the dressing table, lay his mother’s pearl necklace and earbobs…

To then seek her, and find her in the company—prearranged?—of a man such as Whitney was intolerable.

‘So,’ he bit out between gritted teeth as he came to a halt only inches from the pair. His hands clenched at his sides as the fierceness of his gaze moved from the paleness of Jane’s face to the mockingly challenging face of the Earl of Whitney.

‘Indeed,’ Whitney drawled derisively. ‘As you can see, Stourbridge, despite protests to the contrary by the lady concerned, I have safely returned your little bird to the nest.’

A nerve pulsed in Hawk’s rigidly clenched jaw. ‘Before or after you have seduced her?’

‘Oh, the former, of course,’ the older man taunted. ‘The latter, it seems, I may leave to you,’he added hardly.

Hawk’s narrowed gaze met the censoriousness of that hard blue look. ‘You will explain that remark!’

Whitney shrugged broad shoulders. ‘Do I really need to do so?’

No, he did not. Hawk was only curious as to what could have prompted Jane to confide the events of yesterday evening to a man like Whitney.

Which in no way excused his own behaviour, Hawk acknowledged in self-disgust. He had taken advantage of a young woman he had promised to protect. A young woman who had subsequently needed to seek protection from him.

But could Jane not see that Whitney was the last man—the very last man—she should have run to for that protection?