The Duke's Cinderella Bride (13 page)

Her own eyes glittered with impatience as she sat up. ‘I would not have lost my balance at all if you had not crept up behind me in that sly fashion!’ she said waspishly.

‘Please do not get up, Jane,’ Hawk drawled derisively as she began to do so. ‘After the dampness of the dune which we once shared, the stables are a much cosier place for us to converse,’ he assured her dryly, before dropping down onto the clean straw at her side.

Hawk grimaced inwardly, knowing that if any of his grooms had seen him do so they would probably seriously question the Duke of Stourbridge’s state of mind. And quite rightly so!

‘Converse, Your Grace?’ Jane echoed guardedly, as she made a show of picking stalks of straw from the sleeve of her gown.

Several more tufts had attached themselves endearingly in the brightness of her hair, but Hawk decided that now was perhaps not the right time to point them out to her. Nor, indeed, to attempt to remove them himself…

He was aware that, apart from the slight movement and snorting of a horse in one of the other stalls, the stables were very private and quiet at this time of day, his grooms having moved on to other chores about the estate after completing the exercising of the horses and the cleaning of the stalls earlier this morning.

Meaning that he and Jane were completely alone here, with little chance of interruption.

He felt a reawakening of the same desire to take Jane in his arms and kiss her that he had known the previous evening. A desire Hawk had resisted yesterday evening by leaving her so abruptly but which he was not sure he would be able to a second time…!

Perhaps, in the circumstances, it had been unwise on his part to suggest they remain here.

He would not have sought her out at all had Jenkins not informed him that, ‘Miss Smith left the house half an hour since and walked in the direction of the stables.’ It transpired from his groom that she had already done so yesterday, instantly arousing Hawk’s curiosity as to why it was she had felt the need to visit his stables twice in as many days.

Unfortunately, as he looked now at a slightly dishevelled Jane, her face flushed, the soft pout of her lips slightly parted, Hawk knew that it was no longer just his curiosity that was aroused.

‘Your Grace…?’

He frowned down at her darkly. ‘Jane…?’

She looked at him quizzically. ‘You said you wished to talk to me.’

‘Did I?’ Hawk blinked, but the movement did absolutely nothing to dispel the tempting vision of Jane’s moistly parted lips.

Jane felt a frisson of alarm course through her as she saw the direction of the Duke’s gaze, quickly followed by a wave of heated awareness as that gaze moved down to the creamy swell of her breasts above her simply styled muslin gown.

She could hear him breathing now, feel the softness of that breath move over her skin as he suddenly seemed much nearer. Had he moved? She had not been aware that he had, and yet he was definitely much closer than he had been a moment ago.

Jane stared up at him in mesmerised fascination, held in thrall by the deepening gold of his eyes as he moved
even closer, her lids dropping, lips parting, as he raised one of his hands to cup her cheek. The soft pad of his thumb caressed those parted lips with an eroticism that made her gasp as she raised her lids to look up at him with darkened green eyes.

He stared long and hard into those emerald depths before he groaned achingly, ‘Dear God, Jane…!’ His mouth claimed hers, his arms moving about her as he drew her close against the hard strength of his body.

His gloriously male body that only days ago Jane so clearly remembered viewing in all its almost naked glory. Inexperienced as she was, she had still been able to appreciate the broadness of his shoulders and chest, the stomach muscles clearly defined, his hips lean and powerful…!

And those firm lips—lips that could so often be thinned in disapproval or quirked in mocking humour—now moved against hers searchingly, devouring, causing Jane’s pulse to leap wildly and heat to course wantonly throughout her whole body as she arched closer against him in urgent need.

He should never have been tempted into kissing her, Hawk admonished himself impatiently, even as he began to press Jane back onto the warm cushion of straw. But the warmth of her body, her own enticing perfume, both acted as a heady temptation it was impossible for him to resist.

He lay half across her as he deepened the kiss, knowing by the way Jane’s body arched against his, by the fact of her hands now beneath his jacket as she restlessly caressed the length of his back through the thin material of his shirt, that Jane was as aroused as he was-even if her inexperience gave her no idea how to deal with that arousal.

Neither did Hawk know quite where this was taking them. He was aware only of the need he had to touch her, to taste her. His lips left hers to travel the length of the arched column of her throat, down to the creamy swell of her breasts, his fingers dealing deftly, quickly, with the buttons of her gown as he lowered the material to reveal pouting breasts covered only by the thin material of her chemise.

His fascinated gaze fastened on the rosy hardness of her nipples, clearly visible through that material, and lightly caressing fingers moved across those aroused tips, causing Jane to gasp before arching her back in breathless supplication.

It was too much. Jane was too much tempation for Hawk to be able to deny her. His glittering gaze briefly held hers before he lowered his head to draw one of those rosy tips into the heated cavern of his mouth, his tongue rasping across the already aroused nipple as he suckled her deeper into his moist warmth—harder, fiercer. He heard her groans of pleasure and felt her fingers curl convulsively into the hardness of his back, nails scraping as she held him tightly against her.

Hawk’s hand moved to cup her other breast, and he felt it swell beneath his touch, her nipple a tight bud as he ran the pad of his thumb across it in the same rhythm with which he suckled its twin.

His thighs were rigid with arousal, with the need to claim her fully, to slide into the heat that awaited him inside her before giving them both the release they craved.

He should stop now—should pull away from her before that need overwhelmed them both. But he was powerless to resist as he felt Jane’s hands unfastening
the buttons of his waistcoat and shirt to push the material aside. She sought to touch his naked flesh, her hands echoing his own caress, and his groan was one of aching defeat as her tiny fingers touched his own hardened nubs.

No woman had ever touched Hawk so innocently, so erotically before. Jane’s lack of experience in physical intimacy gave her no boundaries, no set of rules to follow, and her fingers touched, caressed, her nails gently raking his hardness, causing his thighs to pulse wildly as he grew more swollen still, his arousal almost painful.

He wanted her. Now. Here amongst the sweet-smelling straw. He was filled with such an urgent need for posession, that his senses were fully awakened by the pleasure-ache of her caresses, the sweet, drugging sensation of her womanly perfume.

Jane had known herself lost to reason, to caution, at Hawk’s first touch, and she was totally unable to deny him now, as she felt his hand move from her breast to push the material of her gown up to her waist. He caressed the length of her leg from her knee to the aching heat that had pooled between her thighs. Her hips arched invitingly against him as he placed that hand against her most intimate place, cupping, pressing, those caressing fingers igniting a pleasure that Jane could never have imagined even in the nightly dreams she had of this man.

She gasped, falling back weakly against the straw, as Hawk’s lips, mouth and tongue continued to minister to her aching breast and his fingers began to stroke against her. Her head moved restlessly from side to side as she felt the pressure building inside her, her legs parting in
heady expectation as the heat between her thighs became hot and urgent.

‘I told him that, no, I hadn’t seen the Duke out and about at all this morning. How about you, Tom? Have you seen him anywhere on the estate?’

Reality, like the icy shock of a bucket of cold water, penetrated Hawk’s desire-befuddled brain the moment he heard the voice of his head groom talking of ‘the Duke’. He raised his head sharply. The look of dazed shock on Jane’s face as she stared up at him told him that she was also aware they were no longer alone.

Hawk’s gaze darkened as he stared down at her—as he acknowledged the rumpled dishevelment of her gown, its skirt pushed up almost to her thighs, its bodice unbuttoned. Her chemise was clinging damply to her breasts, their nipples still hard and aroused from the ministrations of his lips, tongue and hands.

He gave a low groan of self-disgust as he fell back onto the straw beside her to stare up at the wooden ceiling above.

Dear God! Seconds ago, before this timely interruption, he knew his intention had been to make love to Jane fully. To take her here in the stables as if she were some willing serving wench, enjoying a tumble with her wealthy patron. As if he were some untried youth unable to keep his arousal in his breeches.

Forget his employees questioning his state of mind—Hawk now questioned it himself!

‘Hawk—’

‘Silence, Jane!’ he hissed fiercely, even as he moved to place his fingers against her lips. His head tilted as he listened intently and waited to see if his head groom
and Tom, one of the grooms Hawk had brought with him from London, would venture farther into the stables in their search for him.

‘Nah. We’d see ’im if he was in ’ere,’ Tom dismissed. ‘Better go an’ tell Mr Jenkins that we don’t know where ’e is neither.’

The sound of their boots retreating could clearly be heard before the stable door closed noisily behind them.

Hawk’s breath left him in a shaky sigh of relief as he heard their departure. But nevertheless he continued to keep his hand gently over Jane’s lips for several more seconds, just in case either Jack or Tom should change their minds and decide to give the stables a more thorough search for him.

At the same time he was aware that his precaution was not being taken entirely so that Jane should not do or say anything that would reveal their whereabouts. No, the fierce accusation in those green eyes as she stared up at him from behind that restraining hand was enough to warn Hawk that when Jane
did
next speak it was likely to blister his eardrums!

Deservedly so.

Damn it—not only was Jane a young lady without experience of physical intimacy, but the reason she was here at Mulberry Park at all was in order that he might protect her from such unwanted attentions.

He slowly removed his hand before standing up and moving as far away from her as was possible in the confines of the stall. ‘This was a mistake, Jane. A regrettable mistake.’ He ran an agitated hand through the dark thickness of his hair. ‘I should not—’

‘No, you most certainly should not!’ Jane acknowl
edged breathlessly as she scrambled hastily to her feet, her gaping gown clutched in front of her.

She stared across at him for several seconds before turning suddenly on her heel and running from the stables.

And him…

‘Y
ou look wonderful, Jane!’ Arabella’s face was flushed with excitement two evenings later, as she looked with pleasure at Jane’s transformed appearance in the new gown she was to wear for the dinner party this evening.

To Jane’s heartfelt relief she had not seen much of the Duke of Stourbridge in the days that had followed that embarrassing incident in the stables, his time having been occupied with estate business.

Everything about that time together was an embarassment to Jane. The wantonness of her response. The evidence of that response when she had seen that she had actually ripped off one of the buttons on the Duke’s fine linen shirt in her desperation to touch his flesh. Even worse had been the moment when she had looked down and seen her own state of undress, and realised just how intimately she had allowed the Duke to touch her.

Jane had been so stricken by that realisation, so
mortified by what she had encouraged to happen between them, that at that moment she had only been capable of gathering together her dishevelled clothing before fleeing the stables as if the devil himself pursued her.

Not the Duke.
He
was not the devil who pursued her. It was the evidence of her own wanton behaviour that did that.

That the Duke was just as shocked by what had occurred between them had become equally apparent when he had avoided even taking his meals with the ladies of the house over the next two days.

Jane had caught the occasional glimpse of him from her bedroom window as he walked the parkland with seemingly tireless energy, checking the livestock, or the crops in the ploughed fields with his estate manager, with little apparent concern for the state of his clothes and boots. Or for Dolton’s tearful state when he saw them. This was an occurrence Jane had had occasion to witness for herself one evening, when Dolton had trailed unhappily from the Duke’s apartments with dirt-spattered clothes and boots in his hands.

Fortunately Lady Arabella, realising from the Duke’s lengthy absences from the house that Jane was no more in his confidence than she was herself, had first grudgingly and then more readily begun to spend time in Jane’s company. The only negative aspect of this was that Jane, filled with a new urgency to escape Markham Park, now had very little opportunity in which to find a way to further her travel arrangements to Somerset.

It had occurred to her to wonder at one point whether Lady Arabella was deliberately preventing her from
having time alone in which to achieve that goal—possibly at her brother’s instigation, following the suspicions he had voiced concerning Jane’s visits to his stables. But as Arabella’s demeanour became distinctly frosty whenever the Duke’s name was so much as mentioned, Jane decided that was not the case.

Arabella had, however, thrown herself wholeheartedly upon her brother’s instruction that Jane would need a new gown for the dinner party—resulting in the two women having taken a carriage ride into the nearest town, and then making a second journey on the following morning so that the gown might be fitted and have last-minute alterations made.

Obviously there were some advantages to being the sister of a Duke. Her gown had been made to fit perfectly in just twenty-four hours!

‘Did I not tell you that the pale cream silk with the slightly paler lace would be perfect on you?’ Arabella prompted now with satisfaction.

Yes, Arabella had assured her of that. And as Jane’s experience of choosing material and style for a new gown was non-existent, she had been only too happy to allow the other woman to take charge.

One glance in the mirror showed Jane that she looked transformed. High-waisted and styled off-the-shoulder, with tiny puffed sleeves and a low neckline, the cream silk dress seemed to drape round her shapely curves rather than cling to them, and her hair had been styled into fashionable curls and escaping ringlets this evening by Arabella’s own maid.

It was difficult to imagine, as Jane looked at this pleasing image, that she was the same young lady who
had been forced to wear that unbecoming yellow gown only days ago.

‘I wonder what Hawk will make of your appearance?’ Arabella mused gleefully.

Jane had been wondering the same thing—although probably not for the same reason!

Tonight she looked elegant—pretty, even—the gown giving her poise and style, and a maturity she had hitherto lacked. Completely unlike that yellow gown, which she believed had made her look like a huge piece of unbecoming fruit!

Jane could not deny, however, that her pleasure in her changed appearance was marred a little by the fact that, much against her protests, the Duke was to receive the bill for her new gown.

But how could it be otherwise when Jane had so very little money of her own? Sir Barnaby had given her a small allowance, and Jane had managed to save some of it, but she was not even sure it would be enough to pay for her passage to Somerset, let alone purchase a new gown and gloves.

Arabella’s assurances that the Duke would not even notice one new gown amongst her own costly purchases had done very little to allay Jane’s feelings of discomfort at having to accept such largesse from a man who could have nothing but the worst opinion of her.

‘Oh, what could I possibly have said to bring that frown to your brow?’ Arabella clasped Jane’s hands in her own as she looked down at her searchingly. ‘Does the mere mention of my autocratic brother make you unhappy, Jane?’

‘In all probability, the answer to that is yes, Arabella.’
The Duke spoke abruptly from behind them before Jane could make any reply, causing both women to turn—Arabella with some surprise, Jane with reluctance. ‘Well, well, well,’ he drawled as he stood languidly in the doorway. ‘I am not sure Mulberry Hall or its guests this evening will be able to accommodate two such lovely ladies.’

Jane felt the blush that warmed her cheeks and heated her body as that unfathomable golden gaze moved over her with slow deliberation. She was relieved that Arabella forestalled the need for her to respond to the Duke’s mockery as she moved to her brother’s side and smiled up at him triumphantly.

‘Have I not done well, Hawk?’ She beamed. ‘Does Jane not look beautiful?’

‘You have done very well, Arabella,’ Hawk confirmed dryly.

In truth, he was more than a little stunned by how ravishingly beautiful Jane looked in her new finery. The cream gown with its delicate lace adornment adding a lustre to the smooth perfection of her skin, her eyes were a clear, translucent green in her heart-shaped face, and a cream ribbon threaded amongst her red curls added to their fiery depth of colour.

He was aware that Jane had avoided being in his company at all these last two days, quietly leaving the room if he should enter it, her gaze averted as she did so.

Not that he did not deserve to be treated with such coldness after almost making love to her—in such a way, and in such a place, that she could not help but be insulted by it.

Oh, yes, Hawk knew he completely deserved Jane’s
newly felt aversion to him. Knew it, and aided that aversion by retreating to his library when he was not working about the estate.

Unfortunately for him Jane looked every inch a beautiful and confident young lady tonight. So much so that Hawk was having trouble keeping his gaze from her.

‘I came to bring Jane these,’ he bit out abruptly, and he held up the pearl necklace and earbobs he had brought with him in the hopes of them becoming a possible truce-offering between them.

It seemed that Arabella had been far too busy these last days, organising her dinner party and ministering to Jane’s need for a new gown, to notice the coldness that now existed between himself and Jane. But Hawk did not doubt that once this evening was over his sister would not be able to help but become aware of the strain between them.

His mouth twisted ruefully. ‘But I cannot help but wonder, now that I have seen how lovely she looks already, if it would not be gilding the lily…?’

‘Oh, no, Hawk. I think the pearls are a perfect choice!’ His sister beamed her approval, herself a vision of loveliness in a glowing-pink gown. ‘Do you not agree, Jane?’ she prompted warmly.

Jane could only stand and stare at the necklace and earbobs that looked so delicately lovely in the Duke’s large but elegant hands, totally stunned, after days of silence, by his making such a gesture.

She wondered where the pearl jewellery could have come from. Surely the Duke had not purposely purchased them for her…? If so, then no matter how enchanted Jane might be at the idea of his having done
such a thing on her behalf, it would be the height of impropriety for her to accept.

‘Of all Mother’s jewels, these will certainly suit Jane the best,’ Arabella approved delightedly.

Jane’s startled gaze rose from the pearls to the Duke’s now unreadable expression. The necklace and earbobs had belonged to his mother? The former Duchess of Stourbridge?

Somehow that knowledge made his offer that Jane should wear them this evening an even more intimate gesture than if the Duke
had
gone out and purchased them for her.

She gave a firm shake of her head. ‘I am sure your offer is a kind one, Your Grace, but I really could not even think of wearing something of such a—a personal nature to your family.’

Hawk looked at her searchingly. Those green eyes were now huge in the otherwise paleness of Jane’s face. Was Jane refusing to wear the jewellery because it had belonged to another woman? Or because it was he who suggested she should do so? Was Jane so angry with him, so disgusted with him, that she would not even accept this gesture of apology on his part?

Despite Jane’s avoidance of his company since the episode in the stables, Hawk had been pleased to note the two young women were much together, and he was grateful to Jane for taking such an interest in his young sister. Remembering that Jane had no jewellery of her own to wear tonight, he had impulsively decided to bring her the pearls.

But one glance at Jane’s slightly stricken expression and he knew he had once again acted in error.
Could he do nothing right where this young woman was concerned…?

‘Come now, Jane—they are only on loan to you,’ he assured her irritably as he stepped farther into a bedroom that, apart from the gown she had recently taken off, which now lay draped over a chair, showed little sign of Jane’s occupation. But then, from the little luggage she had brought away with her from Markham Park, Jane did not
have
many personal possessions with which to adorn it. ‘Turn around, Jane, so that I might put the necklace on,’ he instructed with impatient briskness, his inner anger directed at his own behaviour towards Jane as much as at the guardians who had treated Jane with such neglect.

Hawk did not doubt that Jane had been warm, clothed and fed during the years she had lived at Markham Park, but when those things had been so grudgingly given he felt that Jane might have been better served going to people less wealthy who might have loved her. Now that he knew Jane better—perhaps too well…?—Hawk was sure that the Sulbys’ emotional dereliction had been more cruel to someone of Jane’s temperament than any deprivation of food or warmth could ever have been.

He had followed Jane to the stables that day with the intention of telling her of his plans to make enquiries on her behalf concerning other, more kindly relatives that she might have. He had failed to do so, and her frosty manner since he had made love to her had certainly not invited confidences of any nature.

Hawk had not yet received any word back from his enquiries, but the moment he did he knew he would no
longer be able to delay discussing Jane’s future with her. And whether Jane believed him or not—and no doubt she would not!—he had acted only out of concern for her.

But those enquiries had become all the more urgent, he acknowledged grimly, since making love to her!

Jane looked up at the Duke guardedly, where he stood before her expectantly, not knowing quite how to respond to his instruction. If she refused absolutely to wear the pearl jewellery then she knew she would upset Arabella as much as the Duke. She had come to value the other girl’s friendship these last few days, and did not doubt that to refuse to wear the jewellery of Arabella’s dead mother would put that intimacy in jeopardy.

It was a dilemma the Duke made no allowances for as he took Jane firmly by the bareness of her shoulders to turn her so that her back was towards him.

Jane tensed expectantly. She knew that in a few seconds the Duke’s fingers would once again brush against her nape as he secured the clasp of the necklace.

Her breath caught as his arms moved about her, so that he might drape the necklace about her throat. The slightest touch of those long, elegant fingers seemed to sear the bareness of Jane’s flesh, causing her to quiver involuntarily, quickly followed by an uncontrollable trembling as he smoothed the ringlets from her nape.

If the two of them had been alone then Jane would have lost no time in turning to confront him, to firmly assure him that she was perfectly capable of securing the necklace herself. But they were not alone. Arabella was standing as silent witness to any exchange between them.

Jane could only hope that the Duke did not intend to attach the earbobs himself…

No matter that it was two days since the Duke had kissed her, nor that they had rarely exchanged a word since then, Jane knew that her insides would melt entirely if the Duke did not soon stop touching her so intimately.