embarrassed as he began to pace the room restlessly. Even dressed only in the black silk robe, he was still possessed of that supreme self-confidence that seemed such a natural part of him it surely had to be inborn.
Deservedly so, Jane acknowledged as she found herself remembering the lean strength of his body. Muscles rippled in those long legs even now as he walked, and the defined muscles in the chest she had viewed earlier were something she dared any woman to resist. And especially a woman who had already found herself dreaming about him quite shamelessly the night before.
Jane felt her nipples swell and harden against the softness of her drab-muslin gown, her breasts rising and falling beneath the bodice. She suddenly found it difficult to breathe, and that strange warmth was back between her thighs.
She did not believe the accusations Lady Sulby had made about her’s mother wantonness. Those letters she had read seemed to confirm that her mother had loved only one man: her married lover, Jane’s natural father. But as Jane looked at the Duke of Stourbridge—at Hawk—she could not help wondering if she might not herself be a wanton. She had dreamt of this man last night. Hot, erotic dreams. And she was so physically aware of him now that she once again felt an unaccustomed ache low in her stomach.
‘You have no idea what you are asking, Jane!’
She raised her eyes to meet the Duke’s glitteringgolden gaze as he glared at her. ‘I assure you I would try not to be any trouble—’
Hawk interrupted with a humourless laugh. ‘Believe me, Jane, you do not have to try!’ He could not spend hours, days, confined in his coach with a woman he had already physically responded to so uncharacteristically.
Damn it, he might respond in that way again, once alone in his coach with her, and take her on one of the seats!
‘Why the urgency, Jane? What has happened since yesterday evening to make you so determined to leave here?’
She turned away so that he could no longer read the emotions in her eyes. ‘I have decided I can no longer reside under the same roof as Lady Sulby. That is all.’
No, damn it. It was not all. What had that witch done to Jane to create the desperation he sensed in her? What could Lady Gwendoline possibly have said or done to Jane this morning to precipitate her immediate flight from Markham Park?
It was none of his business, Hawk reminded himself sternly. He did not like Lady Sulby, and had found her to be a pretentious and spiteful woman, but she was nevertheless the wife of Jane’s legal guardian, and as such Hawk knew he had no right to interfere.
No matter how disturbed he was by the haunted look he had perceived in Jane’s eyes a few minutes ago. Even if the thought of leaving her here to the continued coldness of Lady Sulby brought the bile rising to the back of his throat.
If Jane left her guardian’s home with the Duke of Stourbridge—a single gentleman—then without a doubt the Duke of Stourbridge would be forced into marrying her.
Something Hawk did not intend to happen!
He turned away from the renewed appeal in those expressive green eyes. ‘No, Jane. I am afraid it will not be possible for you to travel in my coach with me today. Whatever disagreement you have had with Lady Sulby, you must face it and deal with it. Running away from your problems solves nothing.’ Hawk knew that what he was advising was the correct and only course in the circumstances, but inwardly he could not help but feel appalled as he listened to his own pomposity.
What other choice did he have? None that he could see.
But he could have wished that Jane did not look at him so disappointed before she turned her head away and her slender shoulders slumped defeatedly.
He drew in a sharp breath. ‘Perhaps if you were to tell me exactly what has occurred to cause this distress—’
‘Thank you, no, Your Grace.’ Her shoulders were tensed proudly now. ‘It only remains for me to wish you a