Tall, Dark... Collection. Carole MortimerЧитать онлайн книгу.
entered and strode imperiously across the room to stand before the wide desk behind which he sat.
Hawk had believed, when he’d excused himself from the ladies’ company a short time ago, leaving the two of them to enjoy their afternoon tea together, that it would allow the two women time in which to become better acquainted with each other. And at the same time, now that the introductions were over, allow him the opportunity of escaping to the relative sanctuary of his library!
Its walls lined with leather-bound volumes, two comfortable armchairs placed on either side of the fireplace, along with a decanter of brandy within his easy reach, the room was normally beneficial in that it afforded him a few hours’ solitude when he might deal with estate business.
Obviously no one had told Jane Smith that the Duke was never to be disturbed when ensconced in the library. Or, as was more likely to be the case, Jane had been given that information but had chosen to ignore it!
‘Do you have nothing to say in your defence, Your Grace?’ she demanded accusingly now, the colour high in her cheeks.
Hawk had plenty of things he might like to say on that subject and several others—but he doubted that any of them were suitable for Jane’s delicate ears!
‘It might interest you to know, Jane—’ Hawk’s tone was deceptively mild as he sat back in his chair to look at her from beneath narrowed lids ‘—that you are the only person of my acquaintance who actually dares to speak to me in this disrespectful manner.’ His voice hardened glacially over the last few words.
‘Really, Your Grace?’ The increased flush to Jane’s cheeks indicated that she was not as unchastened as her tone would have Hawk believe. ‘You surprise me!’
‘Do I?’ Hawk rose languidly to his feet to move lightly around the desk, a hard smile of satisfaction curving his lips as Jane instinctively took two steps back. ‘I think that once again you are choosing to deceive yourself, Jane,’ he drawled mockingly.
Was she? Jane wondered, slightly breathlessly. Perhaps so. But she had found herself completely overwhelmed a short time ago, when the carriage had entered through imposing iron gates that had preceded a fifteen-minute carriage ride to where Mulberry Hall itself reposed. Deer and cattle had grazed undisturbed amongst rolling parkland as the carriage had proceeded on its leisurely way along a driveway edged with hundreds of yew trees, before reaching a wide courtyard that had revealed Mulberry Hall bathed in late-afternoon sunshine.
Jane had gazed up as if hypnotised at the Hall’s magnificence. As the Duke had helped her alight from the coach. The house was built of mellow sandstone, with seemingly a hundred windows on its frontage, and a wide balcony over huge oak doors.
One of those doors had opened wide the moment the Duke had put one of his highly polished boots upon the first stone step leading up to the entrance, an elderly butler greeting his employer with solicitous warmth as he enquired as to the comfort of his journey. Jane had continued to gaze wide-eyed at her surroundings, sure that the whole of Markham Park would have nestled snugly into the cavernous entry hall of Mulberry Hall!
The bedroom she had been allocated had been yet another pleasant surprise after the almost cupboard-like space she had occupied at Markham Park for the last twelve years, with its highly polished floor, sunnily bright yellow walls, a four-poster bed draped with the same gold-coloured damask that adorned the two windows which, she discovered, looked out over the rolling parkland.
Jane had been happily enchanted with her new surroundings when she had returned downstairs and a footman had shown her into the drawing room where the Duke and his sister were about to take tea.
Only to have the Duke spoil it all by making the announcement to his sister that, as Lady Hammond had been indisposed since their sojourn in London—whoever Lady Hammond was—Jane was now here to act as her new companion. A companion that the Lady Arabella, once the Duke had excused himself and left the two women alone, had immediately informed Jane she had absolutely no need of!
It had been obvious from the first that Lady Arabella and the Duke of Stourbridge were closely related. That lady was several inches taller than Jane, and the aristocratic features that were so hard and unyielding on the Duke were softened to a striking beauty in the much youngerArabella. Her eyes were a dark brown, and she had hair of gold shot through with streaks of deeper honey, where the Duke’s was dark with those golden streaks.
A single minute alone in Lady Arabella’s company had shown Jane that that young lady had also inherited her brother’s arrogantly imperious manner!
Jane’s mouth tightened as she recalled the awkwardness of their conversation. She addressed the Duke once more. ‘I am very sorry if you take offence at my tone, Your Grace—’
‘Oh, I do, Jane. I do,’ he assured her softly. ‘And must I point out—yet again—that we are not in the company of others…?’
He might point out that fact as often as the occasion arose, but since arriving at the Duke’s ancestral home, and seeing the deference with which his household staff treated him, Jane had become even more aware of the differences in their social stations.
In a very different way she was also aware of being alone with him now, here in the privacy of his study…Even more so since he had risen to his feet and moved to stand in front of the huge mahogany desk.
Because once he had stood up it had become obvious that the Duke had not expected to be interrupted. For he had removed the royal blue coat and waistcoat that Jane had so admired earlier, and loosened his neckcloth. Following so closely on that incident in the carriage, Jane found his less than impeccable appearance more than a little disturbing!
Hawk narrowed his gaze as he saw the flush that suddenly brightened Jane’s cheeks. ‘Is something troubling you, Jane…?’
‘Something other than your not informing me that I was to be your sister’s companion?’ Her tone was waspish.
Deliberately so, Hawk surmised knowingly, allowing a mocking smile to curve his lips as he crossed his arms over his chest. He had the satisfaction of seeing Jane quickly avert her gaze. ‘As I recall, Jane, our earlier conversation concerning what was to be your place here at Mulberry Hall was…interrupted…’
He was rewarded by a deepening of that blush. ‘That is all very well, Your Grace,’ Jane dismissed briskly. ‘But my purported role here is obviously as much of a surprise to Lady Arabella as it has been to me!’
Hawk’s smile immediately faded. ‘My sister has said something to upset you?’
Jane looked up frowningly as she heard the sharpness that had entered his tone, inwardly relieved that she could now see only the Duke of Stourbridge in the angular handsomeness of his face, rather than the more disturbing Hawk St Claire.
But as the Duke, she had come to realise, he expected his simplest instruction to be carried out without question…
Jane chose her next words carefully. ‘Lady Arabella is quite rightly displeased at having a person she is totally unacquainted with suddenly thrust upon her in this high-handed way—’
‘How displeased?’
Jane blinked at what she knew—from the cold glitter that had entered his eyes and the sudden hardness to the set of his jaw—to be the Duke’s deceptively mild tone. Both of which boded ill for someone. In this case Lady Arabella.
‘Come, Jane,’he encouraged in that softly disconcerting tone. ‘In what way exactly has my sister expressed her displeasure to you?’
Now that she was actually here in the Duke’s presence—in his disturbing presence!—Jane found herself loath to pursue the subject. In truth, she dearly wished that she had waited until her own temper had cooled before even broaching this subject with him.
But it was too late for such caution now. The Duke was waiting, compelling her to answer, those dark brows raised in deceptively lazy expectation.
Her chin rose challengingly. ‘I do not believe I said that Lady Arabella