Tall, Dark... Collection. Carole Mortimer. Читать онлайн. Newlib. NEWLIB.NET

Автор: Carole Mortimer
Издательство: HarperCollins
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Жанр произведения: Современные любовные романы
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he added harshly.

      ‘Not even if one is genuinely repentant?’

      ‘Ah, but there lies the problem, Jane. For, you see, I remain totally unrepentant.’

      ‘Then you cannot expect forgiveness.’

      The Earl gave a rueful shake of his head. ‘Have things always been so black and white to you, Jane?’

      She nodded. ‘My father—a parson—brought me up to be honest, I hope.’

      ‘He did indeed.’ The Earl gave a hard smile of acknowledgment.

      ‘But a lack of artifice and guile is unusual in any woman, I have found, Jane, let alone one so young as you,’ he added.

      ‘Indeed, My Lord?’ she said dryly.

      ‘Oh, yes.’ His smile became derisive. ‘But perhaps your own honesty is due in part to the fact that you have no interest in becoming my Countess…’

      Her eyes widened. ‘I certainly do not, sir!’

      The Earl gave an appreciative chuckle. ‘And so you intrigue me even further, Jane!’

      ‘I can assure you it was not my intention to do so,’ Jane told him primly.

      ‘Perhaps it is for that very reason I find you so interesting, Jane,’ he murmured tauntingly.

      Jane moved back slightly to look up at him. ‘Are you flirting with me, My Lord?’

      ‘As it happens…no, Jane. I am not,’ he assured her hardly. ‘Strangely, you bring out a protective element in me that I have not felt since—’ He broke off abruptly, his frown dark. ‘Why is that, do you think, Jane?’

      ‘I have no idea, My Lord.’ Jane was tired of this enigmatic conversation, but she was even more annoyed with the way the Duke stood at the side of the room, glaring at her so disapprovingly. As if he feared that at any moment she might do or say something to embarrass him or one of his guests. She curtseyed to the Earl as the dance ended. ‘If you will excuse me, My Lord? I believe I would like go outside for some air.’ She turned in the direction of the open French doors.

      ‘An excellent suggestion.’ He fell into step beside her.

      Jane turned to frown at him. ‘My suggestion was not an invitation for you to join me, My Lord.’

      ‘I am well aware of that, Jane,’ he acknowledged unconcernedly.

      She gave a tight smile. ‘But you choose to accompany me anyway?’

      ‘I do, indeed.’ He gave an inclination of his head as he took a light hold of her arm. ‘I am not yet ready to relinquish my…interest, you see, Jane.’

      ‘But I am not trying to interest you, My Lord!’

      ‘Now you are starting to repeat yourself, Jane, and I really would prefer that you not become as boringly predictable as all the other ladies of my acquaintance.’ He grimaced.

      It was much cooler outside on the terrace, the sun having set, leaving the surrounding gardens dappled in the half-light between night and day.

      But Jane wasted no time on appreciating the beauty of her surroundings as she turned to face the Earl, her chin determinedly high. ‘I do not care, one way or the other, My Lord, in whether you find my company boring or intriguing.’

      He shrugged stiffly. ‘I have not conversed for this length of time with a lady so young as you for a very long time, or so frankly,’ he repeated frowningly. ‘Where do you come from, Jane? Who are your family?’

      ‘I have already told you that I am nobody—’

      ‘But I do not believe you, Jane. There are Smiths in the Lakes, Kent and Bedfordshire. Can you be related to any of them…? I warn you, Jane,’ he added softly, ‘you will only deepen my interest further by your determination to remain a mystery…’

      Jane frowned her consternation; having yet another person curious about her was the very last thing that she wanted or needed. ‘Release me, sir.’ She was breathing heavily in her agitation.

      The Earl’s narrowed gaze studied her face searchingly for several long seconds, before his handsome features relaxed into a wolfish smile. ‘I have already told you, I am not ready to do that, Jane.’

      Her eyes widened as his fingers tightened about her arm, that single movement enough to make her aware of how alone they were out here on the deserted terrace.

      She had been foolish in allowing the Earl to accompany her outside, Jane realised belatedly. Not that he had really given her any choice in the matter, but even so…

      ‘Do not look so concerned, Jane,’ he taunted softly. ‘You really are far too young for me to be genuinely enamoured of you. But perhaps it is you who explected a light dalliance in the moonlight—’

      ‘Whether that is Jane’s wish or not, it most certainly is not mine!’ An icily furious voice—the Duke of Stourbridge’s icily furious voice!—cut in at the same instant Jane felt herself being pulled from the Earl’s grasp and back against the hard strength of the Duke’s chest.

      The Earl’s pale gaze glittered challengingly in the moonlight. ‘Is it your intention to spoil all Jane’s fun this evening, Stourbridge?’ he taunted mockingly.

      Fun? Until Hawk’s appearance, this man’s conversation had been far from light or flirtatious!

      Did the Duke believe otherwise?

      One glance over her shoulder at the chilling expression on Hawk’s face and Jane knew that was exactly what he believed!

      Hawk drew in a harsh breath as he glared coldly at the older man. ‘I have not given you leave to call her by her first name!’

      ‘Perhaps the lady herself has allowed me that liberty?’ the Earl taunted derisively.

      Hawk’s mouth tightened. ‘As was explained to you earlier, Miss Smith is unfamiliar with the ways of the ton. She is especially naïve, Whitney, when it comes to men like you,’ he added insultingly.

      Jane felt as light as thistledown as Hawk held her firmly against him, as slender as a nymph, with the softness of her bright curls brushing against his chin. But as Hawk’s most recent memory of that slenderness was of Jane standing far too close to the Earl of Whitney, he found he was in no mood at this moment to appreciate any of her womanly charms.

      ‘A man like me?’ the Earl repeated softly. ‘I will have you know, Stourbridge, that I have called men out for lesser insults!’

      Hawk was well aware of the other man’s reputation for duelling, even though it was no longer approved of—either by the ton or the Crown.

      Hawk, a master swordsman an an excellent shot, had never been involved in such idiocy himself, but he would be willing to make an exception where the Earl of Whitney was concerned!

      ‘Yes?’ he challenged hardly, even as he put Jane firmly out of harm’s way.

      The Earl thrust his face close to Hawk’s, his eyes glittering coldly. ‘If you would care to name a time and a place I will have my seconds call upon yours—’

      ‘Now, really!’ An indignant Jane interrupted impatiently. ‘You cannot seriously intend to challenge each other to a duel over such a trifling matter?’ She looked incredulous.

      Having been sure that Whitney was about to take Jane into his arms, no doubt with the intention of kissing her, was no ‘trifling matter’ as far as Hawk was concerned. In fact, it had made him feel more than a little murderous.

      ‘And how else would you suggest we settle this, Jane?’ Hawk demanded scathingly, even as his gaze remained unwavering on the older man.

      ‘Settle what?’ she gasped incredulously. ‘You are both behaving like children rather than two titled gentlemen who should know better!’