The Duke's Cinderella Bride (20 page)

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?

‘Do stop the self-flagellation, Stourbridge,’ Whitney dismissed dryly. ‘Just accept for once in your ordered life that you have behaved like any other man when presented with such a tasty morsel as Jane.’

Hawk’s eyes glittered coldly. ‘You will not talk of Jane in such a familiar manner.’

‘Will I not?’ the other man challenged. ‘May I point
out, Stourbridge, that it was Jane’s intention to leave for London with me rather than remain here with you…?’

Hawk was well aware of the choice Jane had made. That she had preferred the uncertainty of Whitney’s intentions towards her rather than remain at Mulberry Hall with him. That choice only made his own role in this situation more unbearable.

Jane had been momentarily stunned by Hawk’s sudden appearance following so quickly her realisation that the Earl of Whitney had not been taking her to London with him at all but instead returning her to Mulberry Hall.

But, as always seemed to happen when these two men met, the conversation had taken a ludicrous turn. ‘I was not leaving
with
you, My Lord, only accepting a ride in your curricle,’ she reminded the Earl snappily. ‘As for you, Your Grace.’ She turned to glare at Hawk. ‘I believe the events of this morning have nullified any promises I might previously have made concerning the need to inform you of my movements.’

‘This morning as well as yesterday evening?’ the Earl scowled. ‘You have been busy, Stourbridge!’

‘You—’

‘Gentlemen, please!’ Jane’s voice rose sharply as she saw the conversation once again rapidly deteriorating into insults.

‘Anything for you, dear Jane,’ the Earl drawled.

Jane looked at him censoriously. ‘You will cease this deliberate provocation, My Lord!’

‘I will? Oh, very well,’ he conceded dryly, as Jane continued to glare at him fiercely.

Jane turned to the Duke. ‘And
you
will cease
behaving as if you actually care what becomes of me,’ she told him scathingly.

Behaving as if he cared? Hawk frowned darkly. Damn it, he had made love with this woman last night—of course he cared what became of her!

The fact that the two of them had argued yet again this morning, resulting in Jane fleeing Mulberry Hall as well as himself, did not—could not—alter the intimacy that existed between them.

His mouth set grimly. ‘I wish you to return to Mulberry Hall, Jane, so that we might discuss this like two reasonable adults.’

‘You
wish
it?’ she repeated scornfully, shaking her head. ‘It is my own wishes that are important to me now, Your Grace. And I do not feel any desire to return to Mulberry Hall with you—either now or at any time in the future.’

‘Dear, dear, Stourbridge—can your powers of persuasion, both last night and this morning, really have been so clumsily inelegant?’ the Earl of Whitney murmured scathingly. ‘I would have thought you a more accomplished lover than that.’

Hawk really was going to be forced into resorting to physical violence if the conversation continued in its current vein!

His patience—what little he possessed—was being stretched to the limit, both by Jane’s stubborn refusal to accompany him back to Mulberry Hall and the unwanted presence of Whitney at their exchange.

‘Perhaps Jane was right to leave you, after all, in order to seek out a more…experienced protector,’ Whitney continued tauntingly.

‘Will you cease this nonsense, sir? You know as well as I that our paths crossed this morning only by accident!’ Jane instructed impatiently.

‘But I assure you, dear Jane, I consider it a most fortuitous accident…’ the Earl drawled with a narrow-eyed look at the younger man. ‘It is my belief that someone needs to make Stourbridge answerable for his behaviour!’

‘You will explain that remark, sir!’

Jane felt her face pale and turned slowly to look up at Hawk, a shiver of apprehension slithering down the length of her spine when she saw the coldness of his expression as he looked at the other man with eyes of icy gold.

In that moment he was neither the haughty Duke of Stourbridge nor her lover Hawk St Claire. He was instead a man who looked capable of cold-blooded murder…

The Earl of Whitney looked just as implacable. ‘I am sure we are both aware of how inappropriate your behaviour has been regarding Jane—’

Jane didn’t quite see what happened next. Hawk had moved so quickly, so assuredly, that before she knew it, it seemed, the Earl of Whitney lay prostrate on his back in the lane, his rapidly reddening jaw indicating exactly where Hawk had struck him.

‘W
hat have you done, Hawk?’ Jane murmured faintly, before moving down on her knees beside the prostrate Earl. ‘Are you hurt, sir?’ She touched his arm. ‘Can I—?’

‘I have knocked him to the ground, as he deserves!’ the Duke rasped, and he reached out to grasp her arm with steely fingers.

‘Unhand me!’ She turned to glare at him even as she tried to shake off his hold on her arm. A useless exercise, as it happened, because his fingers refused to be dislodged. ‘How dare you?’ Jane rose sharply to her feet. ‘How dare you treat me so abominably this morning and then proceed to attack the defenceless man who has been kind enough to assist me in escaping such injustice?’

Hawk believed he had never met a less kind or defenceless man than Whitney. As he knew only too well, besides having the tongue of a viper, the man went several rounds thrice a week with ‘Gentleman’ John Jackson—and won as many times as he lost!

But the bright wings of angry colour in Jane’s
cheeks, the accusation in her gleaming green eyes, told Hawk that he had committed a tactical error in giving Whitney the beating he deserved—that by doing so he had only helped to convince Jane he was an unprincipled savage.

Whitney added to that impression as he gave a pained groan. ‘I believe you may have broken my jaw, Stourbridge!’

Hawk transferred the coldness of his gaze to the other man. ‘If I had broken your jaw you would not be able to talk—which would be a blessing for us all!’

‘Cold, sir, when you have rendered me almost senseless.’ Whitney gave another pained groan. ‘Is he not cold and unfeeling, Jane?’ he murmured weakly, as she moved to kneel beside him once more and carefully placed his head upon her lap.

‘Very cold and unfeeling, sir,’ Jane confirmed tautly, and turned to give Hawk another brief, censorious glare.

So totally missing the conspiratorial wink that Whitney gave Hawk over her left shoulder!

The man was feigning, damn it! Simply acting more hurt than he was in order to gain Jane’s sympathy! And he was succeeding!

‘I think perhaps you will have to remove me to Mulberry Hall and send for the doctor, Stourbridge,’ the Earl murmured from his comfortable position cradled on Jane’s lap, and only the glint of a mocking eye was visible as Jane ran a soothing hand across his brow.

It was a move guaranteed to once again fill Hawk with an unaccountable fury of emotions—the strongest one being a wish to knock Whitney to the ground for a second time!

‘Perhaps you might help me into my curricle, Stourbridge…?’ the other man goaded.

‘Yes—do help him, Hawk,’ a distracted Jane encouraged worriedly. ‘We must put a cold compress on that jaw as quickly as possible. Hawk?’ she prompted impatiently.

Hawk conceded that there were the beginnings of redness appearing on Whitney’s jaw, but he certainly did not feel it merited the other man leaning quite so heavily on his shoulder as Hawk helped him to his feet and over to his curricle.

‘A bad tactical error on your part, Stourbridge,’ Whitney murmured, so softly that Jane, having moved to climb into the other side of the curricle so that she might help from there, couldn’t hear him. ‘Did no one ever tell you that where a woman is concerned it is usually the case that to the loser go the spoils of war?’

Hawk’s mouth tightened at the deliberate taunt. ‘Jane is not a prize to be won!’

‘Perhaps that has been your mistake…’ The other man arched a derisive brow. ‘You—’

‘Did I not tell you Jane is a woman to be “priced above pearls”…?’ the Earl reminded him softly.

Hawk had no opportunity to reply as the other man assumed a pained expression as he stepped into the curricle, and allowed himself to once again be given into Jane’s solicitous care.

‘You will have to secure your horse here, Hawk, and take charge of the curricle,’ Jane instructed sharply, as she made the Earl’s head comfortable upon her shoulder.

Returning to Mulberry Hall had not been her plan,
Jane acknowledged frustratedly, but in the circumstances she really had little choice.

What had possessed Hawk to attack the Earl in that way? Admittedly the Earl had been being his usual provocative self, but that really was no excuse for Hawk to resort to using fisticuffs. The Earl would be perfectly justified, after this, in issuing Hawk with yet another challenge to a duel.

At which time Jane would probably get her previous wish that the two men might kill each other!

‘What on earth—?’ A stunned Arabella came to an abrupt halt halfway down the stairs as the three entered the house—the Earl of Whitney being supported by Jane on one side and the Duke on the other. ‘Has the Earl met with an accident…?’ Arabella’s face was pale with concern as she hurried down the long staircase.

‘Only your eldest brother’s fist, Lady Arabella,’ the Earl roused himself to reply dryly, his arm draped about Jane’s shoulder as he leaned heavily against her.

Arabella looked suitably shocked by this disclosure. ‘Hawk…?’

‘Do not fret yourself, Lady Arabella. I can assure you that dear Jane has already more than soothed my fevered brow,’ the Earl said softly. ‘Although a medicinal brandy would probably help speed my recovery,’ he added wryly.

‘Jane…?’ Arabella looked bewildered now.

‘Do not concern yourself, Arabella. I am sure that the Earl’s injury is not serious.’

It was a conviction Jane had become more and more convinced of during their short journey in the
curricle to Mulberry Hall. The Earl’s jaw seemed in no danger of swelling, and only a slight discolouration to the skin had appeared, rather than the bruising she had feared.

In fact, Jane was not completely convinced that the whole thing had not been an exaggeration on the Earl’s part in order that he might return her, without further argument on her part, to Mulberry Hall!

‘Cruel, Jane,’ he murmured now in dramatic rebuke. ‘Too, too cruel!’

Jane gave Hawk a glance from beneath lowered lashes, knowing by the cold disgust in his expression as he stepped away from the other man that he was no more convinced by the Earl’s incapacity than she now was.

She extricated herself from beneath the Earl’s arm, having her suspicions confirmed when he remained perfectly steady on his feet without their support. ‘I believe it is time—’ past time! ‘—that I continued on my way,’ she said.

‘On your way where, Jane?’ Arabella still looked totally bewildered by this sequence of events, although her eyes widened as she took in Jane’s appearance in travelling cloak and bonnet. ‘You really are leaving us?’

‘I-’

‘No, Jane is not going anywhere.’ Hawk was the one to answer grimly.

Jane looked up at him, but the cold implacability of his expression told her none of his inner thoughts. ‘Is it now your intention to hand me over to the appropriate authorities?’

‘Authorities?’ The Earl was the one to echo her sharply, making a very speedy recovery indeed as he
straightened to his full height without assistance from anyone. ‘What nonsense is this, Stourbridge?’ He turned frowningly to the Duke.

Jane and Hawk’s gazes were locked in a silent battle of wills as she answered the Earl. ‘I believe it is the intention of His Grace, the Duke of Stourbridge, to have me arrested as a jewel thief. Is that not so, Your Grace?’ she added challengingly.

‘Arrested…? Jewel…?’ Arabella repeated sharply. ‘Hawk, what have you done?’ She looked at her brother accusingly.

Why was it, Hawk wondered impatiently, that everyone, including Jane herself, believed he was capable of all manner of misdeeds—including cold-bloodedly giving Jane up to the caprices of English law?

‘Surely you are mistaken, Jane?’ Arabella frowned. ‘I saw my mother’s pearls and earbobs upon the dressing table in your room myself only an hour ago—’

‘It is not those jewels I am accused of stealing,’ Jane assured her wearily. ‘But those of my guardian in Norfolk.’

‘Guardian in Norfolk…?’ Whitney looked stunned. ‘I thought that you had claimed Jane as your own ward, Stourbridge?’

Hawk’s mouth tightened. ‘I have that dubious honour, yes.’

‘I believe I relieved you of that temporary responsibility during the unpleasantness of our conversation earlier this morning!’ Jane cut in firmly.

Hawk was breathing hard as he looked at her from between narrowed lids. ‘And it is my belief that you deliberately chose to misunderstand me this morning, Jane.’

‘Did I misunderstand when you accused me of stealing Lady Sulby’s jewels? Did I misunderstand when you suggested I hand those jewels over to you, so that you might return them in an effort to persuade Sir Barnaby to drop the charges against me? Tell me, Your Grace, did I misunderstand any of that?’ Her eyes glittered with challenge and unshed tears.

‘Yes, damn it—’ Hawk broke off his angry exclamation as Jenkins came into the hallway from the servants’ quarters. ‘I believe we should retire to the privacy of the drawing room if we are to continue with this conversation, Jane,’ he bit out tautly.

‘But we are not going to continue with it, Your Grace,’ she assured him determinedly. ‘You have insulted me enough—’

‘You are recently come from Norfolk, Jane?’ the Earl of Whitney cut in harshly.

Jane frowned at the interruption. ‘I have, sir.’

Whitney shook his head frowningly. ‘But when you spoke to my nephew at dinner yesterday evening I distinctly heard you talk of Somerset as having been your home…’

‘My childhood home—yes, My Lord. But I have not lived there for some years now. Not since my father died twelve years ago and I was sent to live with—with acquaintances of my mother’s.’ Jane’s face was extremely pale beneath the green of her bonnet.

‘And would the name of these acquaintances be Sir Barnaby and Lady Gwendoline Sulby, Jane?’ the Earl pressed forcefully.

Hawk gave the Earl a sharply questioning look. Did the other man know the Sulbys? From the look of almost
distaste on Whitney’s face as he spoke of them Hawk believed that he must.

Although he couldn’t say he particularly cared for the intentness with which Whitney was now staring at Jane…

‘Jenkins, bring a tray of tea things through to the drawing room, would you?’ he instructed the hovering butler.

‘Tea!’ the Earl echoed disgustedly.

‘Tea,’ Hawk repeated firmly. ‘For four,’ he added dryly as he saw it was both the Earl’s and Arabella’s intent to accompany them.

Arabella moved to walk beside the obviously reluctant Jane, leaving Hawk to fall into step beside Whitney.

‘What do you know of the Sulbys, Whitney?’ Hawk prompted evenly.

Whitney seemed not to hear him for a moment, his gaze fixed intently on the rigid tension of Jane’s back as she walked ahead of them. ‘Who is she, Stourbridge?’ he finally managed to grind out harshly, every last trace of the flirtatious rake gone from his face and manner.

Hawk gave a shrug of his shoulders. ‘I know no more about her antecedents than you.’

Blue eyes glittered fiercely as the other man turned to look at him. ‘But it’s true she is the ward of Sir Barnaby Sulby?’

‘She is.’ Hawk gave a terse inclination of his head.

‘Good God…!’ Whitney groaned hollowly.

Hawk looked at the other man searchingly, wondering why this information should so disturb him. To his certain knowledge, nothing and no one had been allowed to disturb the capricious Justin Long, Earl of Whitney during the last twenty years. Hawk had sensed
that even Whitney’s enmity towards him over the conquest of the Countess of Morefield had been more of an affectation than any genuine feelings of ill-will.

‘I take it from your response that you
do
know the Sulbys?’

‘I am acquainted well enough with Lady Sulby at least to know I would not even
consider
allowing her the care of one of my hounds, let alone a young lady of Jane’s tender years!’ the other man confirmed harshly.

Hawk’s mouth thinned as he recalled that Jane herself had once made a similar comment to him concerning her guardians.

Jane…

Hawk could still remember his feeling of impotence earlier when he had discovered Jane gone, and grudgingly acknowledged that, if not for the timely intervention of the Earl of Whitney, he might have been too late to find her, allowing her to reach London and just disappear amongst the crowd of people there.

‘I offer you my thanks for—for Jane’s safe return to Mulberry Hall,’ he bit out hardly.

The other man eyed him derisively. ‘How much did that hurt?’

Hawk’s brows rose. ‘No doubt much more than the blow I delivered to your jaw!’

Whitney grimaced. ‘No doubt,’ he acknowledged dryly.

Jane had no idea what the two men were discussing so intently as they walked behind her and Arabella down the hallway to the drawing room. Her own attention was focused on Arabella, as the other woman questioned her concerning the accusations levelled by Jane’s real guardians.

‘But it is surely just a coincidence, Jane?’ Arabella frowned. ‘I have come to know you these last few days, and I do not believe for one moment that you could have taken Lady Sulby’s jewellery.’