The Duke's Cinderella Bride (23 page)

‘Am I a wanton to want you in this shameless way?’ she murmured some time later, with Hawk’s arms like protective steel bands about her waist.

Hawk’s chest moved convulsively beneath her cheek as he chuckled. ‘It is not wanton to want, to desire, to love in the way that we love each other. Darling Jane, you are warm and loving—and if that means you are a wanton then I thank God for it!’

She was Hawk’s wanton. Wanted no other man but him. Never had and knew she never would.

‘I am glad of it,’ she murmured happily. ‘You know, I am not sure it is completely proper for the Duke of Stourbridge to be romping on the rug with his sister’s companion!’

This time Hawk’s chest reverberated with his chuckle. ‘As it is something that I intend to happen frequently once we are married, it would perhaps be as well for me to issue a new instruction to the household—that no one is to enter a room in which the two of us are alone without first knocking and being bade to enter!’

He claimed her lips once again, and Jane was rendered breathless when the kiss finally ended. ‘I am sure it is all well and good that we love each other—’

‘Well and good?’ Hawk repeated teasingly as he rolled over so that she lay beneath him on the rug. ‘It is wonderful, Jane! It is miraculous to feel so much love and know that you are loved in return!’

‘Well. Yes. But—’

‘Why do I have the feeling I am not going to like what you are about to say…?’ His face was serious above hers, his gaze searching. ‘Jane, whatever obstacle you see in our path, preventing us from being together,
I advise you to put it firmly from your mind. Now that I know you love me too I will not allow anyone or anything to keep us from marrying each other.’

‘But I am still accused of theft by Lady Sulby—’

‘You may safely leave Lady Sulby to me,’ he assured her grimly. ‘And I am sure that your father, the Earl of Whitney, will also have some things he wishes to discuss with that lady!’

‘But that is my next point, Hawk.’ Jane looked up at him concernedly. ‘How can you—how can the Duke of Stourbridge—possibly marry the illegitimate daughter of the Earl of Whitney? Perhaps it would be better if we were to just—?’

‘Do not even suggest it, Jane!’ he interrupted harshly, his arms tightening about her. ‘You will not besmirch or belittle the love we feel for each other by suggesting that there can be anything less than marriage between us! Not even for my own sake will you suggest such a thing, Jane,’ he added warningly. ‘I am the Duke of Stourbridge, and your father is the Earl of Whitney. Between the two of us we will manage something that is acceptable.’

Jane believed him. Utterly. Completely. For he was the omnipotent Duke of Stourbridge. And he loved her.

Hawk, the Duke of Stourbridge, and the adopted daughter of the Earl of Whitney, Janette Justine Long—for the had learned from the church register in Somerset that Jane’s full name was indeed Janette, for her mother, Justine, for her father—were married one month later in St George’s church in Hanover Square. All of the St Claire and Whitney families were in attendance, as well
as the ton, as they all wised the Duke and his new Duchess well.

‘Do you still believe that “love has nothing to do with marriage”?’ Jane teased her husband, even as she snuggled into his arms as the carriage drove the two of them away for their wedding trip.

‘Minx!’ Hawk chuckled softly. ‘I was arrogant, ridiculous, in that assertion.’

‘You were,’ Jane concurred, even as she sat up to kiss along the arrogant line of his jaw. ‘Oh, Hawk, I wish that everyone could be as happy as we are!’

‘I too, my love,’ Hawk assured her gruffly, knowing that he held all his future happiness in his arms.

‘My father’s family have been wonderful.’ Jane glowed up at him. ‘And Arabella is already like a sister to me—’

‘And Sebastian and Lucian like brothers, I hope?’ he growled possessively.

Jane laughed softly. ‘Sebastian is the dearest—and did you find occassion to ask Lucian how he came by his bruised knuckles?’ she prompted frowningly, as she remembered Arabella’s distress earlier when she’d seen the bruises upon her brother’s hand.

Tall, dark-haired and wickedly handsome, Lord Lucian St Claire had stood as witness for his older brother.

‘He claims to have scraped it upon a wall.’ Hawk’s frown echoed Jane’s.

Jane’s eyes widened. ‘And you believe him?’

‘No, of course I do not.’ He grimaced.

There had been no chance this last month to see or talk to his brother, following Arabella’s concern.

There had been the wedding to organise—once he had Whitney’s permission Hawk had allowed nothing
to delay those arrangements. There had also been Lady Gwendoline and Sir Barnaby for them to visit in Norfolk—a most unpleasant interview, to say the least.

Most of all, there had been Jane!

At Whitney’s behest Hawk had accepted that it was better if the Earl and Jane were to stay with her aunt, Lady Pamela Croft, on the estate that adjoined his until after the wedding. The arrangement had allowed Jane to become better acquainted with her father and his family, but had also allowed Hawk to see Jane every day. To talk with. To walk with. To make love with!

Hawk had not believed it possible to love Jane any more than he already did, but that had not proved to be the case. Jane was now everything and all things to him.

But the arrival of Lucian at their weddng today, sporting bruised knuckles and an expression that dared any to question the reason for it, was definitely a cause for concern.

A concern that would now have to wait until after Hawk and Jane had returned from their honeymoon trip to Europe.

‘I will deal with Lucian when we return in six weeks.’ His arms tightened about her. ‘Not, Jane, I forbid you to think or talk of any other man but me—at least for the duration of our honeymoon!’

‘You “forbid” me, Your Grace…?’ she echoed softly.

Hawk kissed her long and deeply. ‘I forbid you, Jane,’ he repeated challengingly. The lure of the seat opposite was proving too much of a temptation. There was something about Jane and the privacy of an enclosed carriage…!

The mischievous glow deepened in those wonderful
green eyes as Jane easily read his intent. ‘I bow to your superior authority, Your Grace,’ she murmured throatily as she gave him a deceptively demure look from beneath lowered lashes.

Hawk chuckled softly as he lifted her in his arms an moved with her to the seat opposite. ‘I have no doubt you are going to lead me a merry dance, Jane!’

Jane looked up into the face of the man she loved aboce and beyond all things. ‘You are dissatisfied with your wide already, Your Grace?’ Once again she deliberately used the title she knew infuriated him. Usually into making love to her!

‘Never, Jane!’ Hawk assured her fiercely, even as his arms tightened about her and his mouth claimed hers.

His Duchess.

Janette St Claire.

But most of all and always, his beloved Jane.