Tall, Dark... Collection

Whitney turned to look at him with amused blue eyes. ‘Stourbridge.’

Hawk bristled at his amusement. ‘The Countess has not accompanied you this evening?’ he challenged hardly, immediately knowing from the light of challenge that entered the other man’s gaze that he should not have done so. It had been extremely indiscreet on his part to so much as mention in front of Jane the woman who had been mistress to both men.

That he had done so Hawk knew was due solely to the fact that he was disturbed enough by Whitney’s interest in Jane to feel goaded into the challenge.

‘I believe that is now your privilege…?’ the Earl taunted.

Hawk eyed the older man coldly. ‘I have not seen the Countess for several months. I was not aware that you had been introduced to my ward, Miss Jane Smith…’ he added tersely.

‘Your ward?’ The older man raised his brows in surprise before returning his speculative blue gaze to Jane. ‘In that case perhaps you would care to make the introductions now, Stourbridge?’ he prompted dryly, as he continued to look at Jane.

Far too familiar for Hawk’s liking. But in his role of host this evening he had little choice but to comply. ‘Jane—may I present Justin Long, Earl of Whitney?’ he bit out harshly. ‘Whitney—my ward, Miss Jane Smith.’

‘My Lord.’ Jane inclined her head politely. ‘What a pity that your Countess was unable to accompany you this evening,’ she added lightly.

The Earl’s eyes glinted wickedly. ‘You misunderstood, my dear,’ he drawled. ‘It was not my Countess to whom Stourbridge alluded.’

‘Oh…’ Jane looked even more confused.

As well she might, Hawk acknowledged, as his narrowed gaze dared the older man to explain exactly whose Countess she was—or indeed had been!

Whitney ignored the challenge and instead bestowed his most charming smile on Jane. ‘I hope you will forgive any offence I may have caused earlier by speaking to you so impulsively, Miss Smith? I had thought this to be an evening spent amongst old friends and acquaintances, with none of the stuffy formality that invariably makes an evening with the ton so incredibly tedious.’

In truth, Jane had been slightly surprised, but not in the least offended, when this handsomely distinguished man had approached and spoken to her. In view of the nervousness she had felt as she descended the stairs, Jane’s principal emotion had been relief at having someone speak to her at all!

But she knew from just one glance at the Duke, as he looked so contemptuously down his arrogant nose at the older man, that he, at least, did not like or approve of at least one of his sister’s guests this evening.

And who exactly was the Countess the two men referred to so challengingly…?

‘I have taken no offence, My Lord,’ she assured the older man coolly, as she gently but firmly released the fingers he still held in his own. ‘And, never having spent an evening with the ton, I have no idea if their company be tedious or otherwise.’

‘No?’The Earl’s eyes widened. ‘Where can you have been hiding Miss Smith until now, Stourbridge?’ he taunted the other man softly.

The Duke stiffened. ‘Miss Smith resided with relatives in the country until very recently.’

‘Really?’ The Earl still mocked the younger man. ‘And which part of the country would that have been, Miss Smith?’ His narrowed blue gaze returned to Jane.

‘It is surely of little consequence where Miss Smith once resided, Whitney, when it must be obvious she now resides here in Gloucestershire with my family,’ the Duke cut in harshly.

Jane was finding the intensity of the Earl’s gaze upon her more than a little disconcerting. The shrewdness in those blue eyes was a complete contradiction to the lazily mocking drawl he affected when speaking.

‘Of course,’ the Earl answered the other man dryly. ‘I was merely showing polite curiosity, that is all.’ He shrugged dismissively.

Despite the fact that the other man’s estates seemed to prosper, and his business interests to thrive, Hawk had always considered Whitney something of a wastrel—a man who spent his time in London, when not at the gambling tables, occupying the bed of one bored wife or another of his fellow peers.

He was certainly not a man Hawk could ever approve showing an interest in an innocent such as Jane!

Hawk reached out to lift Jane’s hand and place it firmly upon his arm. ‘I believe it is time for us to go in to dinner.’ He nodded his cool dismissal of the other man before turning away, the firmness of his hand over Jane’s leaving her no choice but to accompany him.

‘You will stay away from the Earl of Whitney for the remainder of the evening, Jane,’ he rasped grimly, once they had moved out of the Earl’s hearing. ‘Besides being far too old for you, the man is an obvious rake who is only interested in bedding a woman rather than wedding her!’

Jane gasped—both at the Duke’s arrogance in once again telling her what she should do, and at the indelicacy of his warning about the Earl. He almost made it sound as if she had deliberately set out to engage the other man’s interest.

Well, she might be inexperienced in the ways of men, but that did not mean Jane did not recognise a consummate flirt when she met one. Although, strangely, the Earl’s behaviour had not been in the least flirtatious with her until the Duke had appeared at her side…? But after days of not knowing exactly how she should behave towards the Duke since he had made love to her, she now found herself consumed with anger at the return of his high-handedness.

She also recognised that the apparent intensity of her conversation with the Duke was now attracting attention from Arabella’s other guests…

‘Surely you are mistaken, Your Grace?’ she said evenly, her expression deliberately serene in acknowledgement of those curious glances. ‘I thought it was the case that all titled gentlemen needed to marry and produce an heir?’

The Duke turned to scowl down the sharp blade of his arrogant nose at her. ‘It may have escaped your notice, Jane, but I have not yet chosen to do so.’

‘I am sure that is only because you have so far been too busy.’

‘My estates—’

‘I was not referring to work on your estates, Your Grace.’

His dark brows rose. ‘Then to what were you referring, Jane…?’

Her lips curved into a smile even as her eyes glowed with challenge. ‘I had assumed that the reason you are still unmarried at the age of…thirty…?’

‘One and thirty,’ Hawk supplied cautiously, sensing from Jane’s too-innocent demeanour that he was about to receive another one of her infamous setdowns.

‘Exactly.’ Jane nodded coolly. ‘I had assumed that the reason you are still unmarried at such an advanced age must be because you are far too busy interfering in other people’s lives to have time to attend to your own…’

For what had to be the second time in Jane’s company—or possibly the third?—Hawk found himself unable to repress the hard bark of laughter provoked by this woman’s wicked sense of humour.

At his own expense this time!

The unexpected laughter also served to dispel the tension he had been feeling since he first saw her in Whitney’s company.

‘Touché, Jane,’ he drawled dryly.

‘You are more than welcome, Your Grace,’ she returned pertly.

‘I never doubted for a moment that would be the case.’ He nodded, still smiling, relieved that after days of awkwardness Jane at last seemed to be showing signs of returning to her more forthright self. ‘Perhaps you will now allow me the honour of escorting you in to dinner, Jane?’

Her brows rose. ‘Is there not some other, worthier lady present this evening, who is eagerly awaiting the Duke of Stourbridge’s attentions?’

Yes, Hawk knew that Lady Pamela Croft, the most highly raved lady in the room, and Whitney’s older sister, would be expecting him to escort her into dinner.

But, unlike that evening at Markham Park almost a week ago, when Hawk’s offer to take Jane in to dinner had been thwarted by Jane herself, Hawk felt no more inclined to bow to Society’s dictates than Whitney. At an evening ‘spent amongst old friends’ he could ignore rules of etiquette for once.

‘Perhaps,’ he dismissed arrogantly. ‘But none that I would rather have on my arm,’ he added distractedly, as his attention was drawn to the fact that a blushingly pretty Arabella had accepted being escorted into the dining room by a smugly triumphant-looking Earl of Whitney.

Damn the man.

First Jane. Now Arabella.