Tall, Dark... Collection. Carole Mortimer
ward, Your Grace…?’ Jane echoed faintly, sure that she could not have heard him correctly.
His mouth thinned disapprovingly. ‘I can think of no other explanation for the presence of a young and single lady, travelling alone in the company of the Duke of Stourbridge. I am sure that Dolton, with his new penchant for subterfuge, will have no trouble at all in thinking of an excuse for your lack of maid,’ he continued dryly. ‘Perhaps he could invent an unexpected illness that has prevented her immediately accompanying us to Gloucestershire?’
‘Gloucestershire?’ Jane said dazed, suddenly very still. ‘But I thought—You are not returning to London, Your Grace?’ she prompted sharply.
‘No, Jane, I am not,’ he confirmed mockingly. ‘Mulberry Hall, principle seat of the Duke of Stourbridge, is in Gloucestershire. My plan had always been to go there for the rest of the summer. As I have no intention of allowing you to travel anywhere unchaperoned, you will obviously have to accompany me there.’
Jane stared at the Duke disbelievingly, too shocked at that moment to argue.
She had believed the Duke of Stourbridge to be returning to London from where she would be able to buy passage on a public coach to Somerset. And to the warm, comforting bosom of Bessie.
Instead, it seemed Jane now found herself forced to accompany the Duke—a man who had already induced the most erotic longings inside her—to his estate in Gloucestershire…
Chapter Five
‘You are very quiet this morning, Your Grace.’
There was no response to Jane’s soft observation except the sound of grinding teeth. The Duke’s teeth.
It was a sound she had heard several times during the two hours they had shared the ducal coach as it travelled to the Duke’s family seat in Gloucestershire. It was rather irritating coming from a man who normally displayed such an air of control and good breeding. Perhaps it was a habit he was unaware of…?
The silence that had beset him since the two of them had parted the previous evening, following a shared dinner downstairs in the inn’s parlour, was also unsettling.
They had disagreed throughout most of the meal, of course, as Jane had continued to protest vehemently at the Duke’s assertion that she would accompany him to Gloucestershire. The Duke had remained equally adamant, especially in view of her refusal to share her future plans with him, that he would not even consider leaving her at a coaching inn along the way, so that she might make her own way to London.
Jane had thought the awkwardness between them at least partially resolved when she had been forced to back down in the face of the only alternative the Duke would consider to his own plans, which Jane liked the sound of even less than accompanying him to his estate in Gloucestershire—that of being returned to Markham Park and her guardians forthwith!
Admittedly, their goodnights to each other had been a little frosty, but Jane had felt slightly mollified when she’d found that, along with a second bedchamber for the Duke’s ‘ward’, Mr Dolton had also engaged the services of the daughter of the innkeeper to act as Jane’s temporary maid, and a steaming hot bath had been there for her enjoyment.
After a good night’s rest, Jane had risen from her bed this morning, determined to make the best of her situation. After all, although the Duke was completely unaware of it, Gloucestershire was in fact much closer to her real destination of Somerset than London…
Mary, the innkeeper’s daughter, had returned to Jane’s room shortly after she had completed her ablutions, carrying a breakfast tray. So Jane had no occasion to see or speak to the Duke again before joining him inside the ducal coach to resume their journey.
As expected, the coach was as magnificent inside as out, with seats upholstered in such a way as to afford them the maximum comfort. Even the sun had come out mid-morning to cheer her. In fact, it would have been a very pleasant journey indeed if not for the noticeable silence of the Duke.
And the grinding of his teeth, of course…!
Now Jane risked a glance at the Duke from beneath her lashes, at once seeing the reason for those grinding teeth: his jaw was clenched so tightly the bones there looked in danger of actually snapping beneath the pressure.
She had tried several times to engage him in conversation these last two hours. She had remarked on the weather as she removed her cloak, and her increasing nervousness at his continued silence had caused her to explain that the green gown she wore today—a particular favourite of hers—had been a birthday gift from Sir Barnaby the previous year. On both occasions she had received only a scowl and a grunt in reply, and she had not felt brave enough since to attempt further conversation.
She sat forward slightly now. ‘Have I done something to disturb you this morning, Your Grace?’
‘Have I not told you—repeatedly—to stop “Your Gracing” me with every other word?’ He glared darkly.
Jane blinked at the fierceness of his expression. ‘I do not know what else to call you, Your—sir…’ she amended hastily, as he breathed so heavily down his nose it sounded almost like an unbecoming snort.
‘Have I not invited you to call me Hawk?’ His scowl darkened.
‘You have,’ Jane confirmed softly, her cheeks feeling slightly warm as she remembered the occasion on which he had done so. ‘But while that may do when we are alone, it will hardly suffice when we are in the company of others.’
‘It cannot have escaped your notice, Jane, that we are not at this moment in the company of others!’ he bit out tautly.
He was being boorish, Hawk knew. But he could not seem to stop himself. As he had already surmised the previous day, when Jane had first asked to accompany him and he had refused, travelling alone with her in the confines of his coach was pure torture!
For one thing she looked so damned happy this morning. Totally unlike the cowed creature he had met for the first time two days ago on the stairs at Markham Park. Was it really only two days since this young woman had literally launched herself into his presence? It seemed much longer! Her eyes shone with excitement today, her cheeks were flushed, and her lips seemed to be curved into a constant smile of contentment.
To Hawk’s way of thinking Jane had no right to look so happy when she had thrown his own normally peaceful existence into such disarray!
Her earlier remark about the weather being warm had been accompanied by the removal of her travelling cloak. A move that had revealed she wore a pale green gown beneath that lent her skin a creamy hue while at the same time intensifying the colour of the fiery red curls piled upon her head. Her explanation that the gown had been a gift from Sir Barnaby had at least restored Hawk’s faith in his own judgement of the older man; it seemed that Sir Barnaby’s only lapse in good taste had occurred twenty-five years ago, when it had come to the choosing of his wife!
But as Jane sat opposite Hawk, looking so relaxed and beautiful, it was impossible for him not to notice that the gown also revealed the bare expanse of her breasts. That creamy swell moved enticingly every time his coach ran over a rut in the road, causing Hawk to shift uncomfortably in his seat as his body hardened in awareness.
Hawk knew that his tailor in London took great delight in fitting his clothes precisely to the muscled width of his shoulders, his tapered waist and powerful thighs—but at this particular moment Hawk could have wished that the man had allowed him a little more room for manoeuvre in the cut of his breeches!
Jane, still an innocent despite her claim of being two and twenty, remained completely oblivious as to the reason for his discomfort.
Hawk scowled anew. ‘You dare to rebuke me for my silence, Jane?’
The colour warmed Jane’s cheeks as she guessed the reason for his accusation. The Duke had tried repeatedly during dinner yesterday evening to encourage Jane to tell him of her reasons for leaving Markham Park so