“I have been watching you from afar these past few minutes, Lord Hawkhurst. I had heard you were an amazing horseman, but you look like a centaur, a seamless part of your horse.” She glanced pointedly at the stallion, who was standing quietly and obediently now. “Your grooms told me that splendid creature is said to be rather wild. No one else will dare mount him. How do you manage it?”
“You did not come here to discuss my horsemanship,” he returned impatiently.
She offered him another smile, this one conciliatory. “Well, no. I was worried that I had made you angry.”
At that vast understatement, a spark of sardonic amusement stirred inside Hawk.
“Actually, I wished to apologize to you,” Lady Skye offered.
“Indeed.”
“Yes. Not for last night. I am not sorry for … mating with you. It was too remarkable to regret. But I am extremely sorry for complicating your life. I truly did not mean to put you in such a quandary.”
Hawk didn’t know whether to be flattered or exasperated by her efforts to disarm him. He kept his stare level, resisting her charm.
“I hoped we might calmly discuss our dilemma.”
“There is nothing to discuss. If you are carrying my child, you will marry me.”
Her features remained calm. “You are right. We would have no choice. If it turns out that I am with child, I will marry you. But I hope that isn’t likely.”
“When were your last courses?”
Her eyes widened, and she looked a trifle embarrassed. Young ladies did not discuss such delicate matters as female bodily functions with gentlemen.
“You are certainly frank, my lord.”
“I was married for several years, remember? Carnal relations depended on my wife’s courses.”
“I finished mine a few days ago.”
“So we have several more weeks before the question is settled.”
“Yes. We will have to wait and see. Meanwhile, I have a proposal for you.”
Hawk cocked his head. “I am listening.”
“I want to remain here at the castle until we learn if I have conceived. It will be only a short time, a month at most.”
His mouth twisted at her perseverance. “You can wait elsewhere just as well, Lady Skye. You cannot stay here. The risk of scandal is too great.”
“My family regularly lives on the edge of scandal. I am not concerned.”
“You should be.”
She returned his unyielding gaze steadily. “I am not a green girl, Lord Hawkhurst. I make my own decisions, and I am willing to live with the consequences.”
“But I am not.”
Skye lifted a well-shaped eyebrow. “Do you know your trouble? You are just too honorable.”
“I didn’t know there was such a thing as being too honorable,” he said dryly.
“Oh, there is. A surfeit runs in my family as well. Take my brother, for instance. He might very well call you out to defend my honor. Trust me, you don’t want Quinn to know what happened between us last night.”
It was said lightly but her inference was obvious. At her audacity, another shaft of unwilling amusement pricked Hawk. Not only had she intruded into his home and upended his hard-won peace, but she was hinting that she had the leverage to blackmail him.
Hawk shook his head. “You can’t win with that argument, sweeting. You won’t tell your brother for fear he would insist on our marriage.”
She sighed and dimpled. “Alas, that’s true. You are too astute, my lord. But I still need help finding my uncle’s former love, and I cannot do it alone. I need you.”
Her pretense at helplessness rang false, as Hawk was sure she knew, for she tried a different tack.
“Righting wrongs is your league’s primary mission, is it not? Well, what happened to my uncle is a profound wrong. One you could help me set right.” Her tone turned earnest. “Just imagine how lonely he is. He has no wife or children of his own. Even if she is no longer alive, it would mean so much to him to know that he had sired a child with his true love.”
When he remained silent, Skye offered another argument. “I will make you a simple bargain. If you will help me with my uncle’s plight, I will help you with preparing your house for your bride.” She quickly raised a hand, preventing Hawk’s immediate rejection. “Before you say no, let me explain. I can send for Aunt Bella this morning to act as chaperone. And until she arrives, I’m certain it would be possible to ask your temporary housekeeper or one of the other village matrons to stay a night or two at the castle.”
“Searching for your uncle’s lover could take weeks or even months. I can’t afford that much time away.”
“But perhaps you can. You said construction was set to start at week’s end, and you have hired an architect to supervise. By the time you return here, the repairs will be well under way. And I can work on hiring your household staff while you are away. There is so much to be done.… Not only clearing out the years of dirt and cobwebs but decorating and refurbishing also. Aunt Isabella has excellent taste, as I’m sure you know. And actually so do I.”
Hawk shook his head in disbelief. Lady Skye was trying to commandeer his life and arrange matters to her satisfaction, but ever so sweetly, like a governess making the bitter medicine go down more easily. Only she was like no governess he’d ever seen.
Hawk was struck again by how novel she was. Novel, unique, fresh … and strong-willed. She was like a damned burr under his saddle. No doubt she counted on her persistence driving him to distraction until he gave in.
“When we are done with the house,” she continued, “I will even help you court Miss Olwen. My family has a great deal of influence in society. With my brother being an earl and my cousin Ash a marquess, we can open doors to her that would otherwise be closed.”
He had no doubt that every objection he made, Lady Skye would come up with a solution. Her suggestions were eminently logical but pointless. He had no choice but to refuse her request for help, since he had serious obligations that took precedence.
“Please just say you will think about it,” she pleaded. She must have realized he would say no such thing, for she gave an exaggerated sigh. “I suspected you would be this stubborn.”
“You are calling me stubborn?”
“Yes. But I am not one to admit defeat without a fight. I tend to remain optimistic, even when a cause seems hopeless. And I have faith you will eventually do the right thing,” she added serenely.
Hawk gave a grunt of exasperation. “Don’t count on it.”
“I am very impressed, my lord. You’ve gone for five entire minutes without making that growling sound.” Humor lit her eyes as she surveyed him. “Is that a hint of a smile I see? That is progress indeed. But I would be astonished if you can actually laugh, you are such a grouch.”
He had to admit she amused him with her deliberate attempts to provoke him. He was a stranger to laughter and preferred to stay that way. Yet he found himself smiling back at her, damn her.
Skye looked annoyingly satisfied by her achievement. “I will return to the house now and leave you to your work. I was much too nervous to eat breakfast before I spoke to you, but now that I have braved the lion, so to speak, I realize I am famished.”
Her blue eyes were perfectly innocent, yet there was a glimmer of laughter there, blast her cheek. She was teasing him in order to coerce him out of his foul humor.
She was succeeding, too. When Hawk met her gaze, something shivered through him, part laughter, part physical desire.
Then her smile faltered and he knew she had felt that same powerful jolt of sexual need. Suddenly she looked shy again, and without another word, she turned her horse away.
Hawk watched her leave with a feeling strongly akin to relief.
Oh, yes, Lady Skye was enormously dangerous to him. In less than a day, she’d incited him to forsake his scruples and possibly ruined his carefully calculated future. And that was nothing compared to the myriad of emotions she rous
ed in him so effortlessly. In the past day he’d been, in turn, suspicious, curious, irritated, protective, passionate, angry, appalled, exasperated, amused, at peace.… He couldn’t deny that with her he’d enjoyed a deep, dreamless, peaceful sleep for the first time in forever.
What shocked him, though, was how much he still wanted Skye. The desire to make love to her was still stinging his body, when his only burning desire should have been to serve and lead the Guardians.
His predicament would only grow worse with time, Hawk knew, for he couldn’t just throw her out, and she wouldn’t leave quietly. Her appearance of delicacy hid a spine of steel.
Yet she would have to give up eventually if he remained adamant. Moreover, he could ratchet up his efforts to drive her away, making it as uncomfortable as possible for her to stay.
Wholly aside from the risk of scandal, he didn’t want Lady Skye Wilde living in the same house as he. He wanted no warmth and comfort in his life, nothing womanly and soft that would remind him so painfully of what he had lost.
Deliberately Hawk turned the stallion away from the castle. He had meant to return to the stables, but it was wiser to keep away when Lady Skye could be lurking around any corner, ready to ambush him with her vexing, tenacious optimism and her vital, vibrant smile.
When the earl remained away the entire day, Skye suspected he was purposely avoiding her, but when dusk fell, she grew worried. He would exhaust himself, riding for so long with no sustenance.
By nightfall, the daily housekeeper and maids had departed, leaving only Thomas Gilpin, the grizzled old man who acted as the castle caretaker. A longtime employee of the estate, Gilpin had been present when the earl’s family perished in the fire, but he was not forthcoming in answering Skye’s questions about the tragedy, in part, she suspected, because his memory seemed to be failing.
Even so, he was mindful of his master’s whereabouts. When Skye made to don her cloak, intending to search for the earl in the stables, Gilpin reported that his lordship was already in his study. Exasperated, Skye realized that Lord Hawkhurst had slipped into the house unobserved, even though she had been watching for him.
She found him there, lounging on a sofa, making steady inroads into his decanter of brandy.
“Good evening, my lord. I came to invite you to partake of supper. I thought you might be hungry.”
He barely glanced up at her. “You thought incorrectly.”
Skye wasn’t inclined to be dismissed so easily. “I met your temporary staff today and introduced myself. For propriety’s sake, I told them my aunt should arrive soon.” When Hawkhurst eyed her sharply, she hastened to add, “Don’t fear. I did not actually invite Aunt Isabella without your permission.”
“Thank God for small favors,” he murmured.
“I set the maids to cleaning the main rooms today. And I began inventorying the furniture to see what needs repair or replacement. I thought that if I must wait here, I might as well make productive use of my time.”
“I trust you don’t expect to be accorded laurels for your unwanted efforts.”
Skye ignored his sarcasm. “I see what you mean about Gilpin being frail and hard of hearing. He seems a sweet old soul, but he is not capable of heavy work with his rheumatism and aching joints. Nor can he cook well. So I asked the housekeeper to help me prepare your supper. We made a very decent meal, if I do say so myself.”
“I said I am not hungry.”
“But you need to eat.”
“I ate at noonday in the stables with my grooms.”
“That was a number of hours ago.” When he made no reply, Skye softened her tone. “I laid out the dishes in the small dining room. Please, will you not join me?”
She could tell Hawkhurst was struggling to hold on to his temper. “Thank you, no. That room holds too many memories for me.”
At his admission, Skye instantly felt remorseful for pressing him to relive unpleasant memories. “Then I will bring you a supper tray here.”
“You needn’t bother.”
“It is no bother, truly.”
“Lady Skye,” Hawkhurst finally said in a gruff tone, “I have no need for a guardian to supervise my eating habits—or my drinking habits, either.”
Rather than argue further, Skye temporarily retreated from the field of battle and returned belowstairs, where she prepared a plate of food to take to him. They had roasted a leg of mutton on a spit, and she added helpings of bread pudding, artichokes, and stewed pears, then arranged a tray for him and poured a mug of ale.
Since the elderly Gilpin had retired to bed, the kitchens were deserted and quiet. When a shadow suddenly appeared behind her, Skye let out a soft shriek and whirled to face the threat. Hawkhurst had appeared in the kitchens without warning, his footfall undetectable. Rather than apologize for startling her, he seemed rather satisfied by his accomplishment.
Her hand covering her wildly beating heart, Skye sent him an accusing glance. “You frightened me deliberately, didn’t you?”
“It is what a busybody like you deserves.”
“Such tactics are beneath you.”
“You are welcome to leave if you don’t like my tactics.”
Skye narrowed her gaze. “That is your aim, isn’t it? To be as inhospitable as possible and make me want to leave?”
“Your powers of deduction are admirable, sweetheart.”
She smiled. “You should know that I am not easily intimidated. I had to hold my own in a family of overbearing males.”
“So you told me.”
“What are you doing here in the kitchens? You said you weren’t hungry.”
“I knew you would not give up pestering me,” he commented with a glance at the tray.
“Would you prefer to eat here or in your study?”
“Here will do.”
They ate again at the servants’ dining table, as they had the previous evening. Hawkhurst seemed preoccupied, though, and barely touched his food, preferring instead to drink his ale.
Disliking the heavy silence between them, Skye searched for something to lighten the mood. She finally settled on ribbing him.
“I confess you are a sore disappointment, my lord. A hero should not frighten innocent women and children.”
“You are hardly an innocent—and you continue to overestimate my heroic qualities.”
“I don’t believe so. You are an extraordinary man.”
Hawkhurst grimaced. “If you are trying to butter me up with false flattery, your attempts will fail.”
Her admiration was not false flattery. Even though she had built Hawkhurst up in her mind to heroic proportions, he deserved the appellation of hero.
“You are a Guardian. That alone makes you a hero.”
His frown deepened. “You know nothing about them.”
“True, but I would like to know more.”
“Isabella has revealed too much already.”
“Only because she wanted me to understand the difficulty I would face in persuading you to put your courtship on hold in order to help my uncle. Your duty to the Guardians comes before all else.”
“I don’t wish to talk about them.”
“If not, then what shall we talk about?”
He downed another large swallow of ale. “Nothing. Some peace and quiet would be very welcome. Have you never heard that silence can be a virtue?”
“Yes, but so can making polite conversation, my lord grouch.”
His gaze swung back up to her. “You are set on intentionally provoking me, aren’t you?”
“I hoped to prod you out of your stupor, yes.”
When he scowled, Skye intuitively knew she had struck the wrong note. He seemed in no mood to be teased just now, so she ceased her efforts.
“I can be silent if I try very hard,” she murmured contritely before applying herself to her food.
Occasionally when she cast a surreptitious glance at the earl, she found him staring down into his ale but without seeing much. Sorrow seemed
permanently etched into the handsome lines of his face and his thoughts focused deep inside himself.
Skye wished she could do something to break his dark mood, but she bit her tongue. He did eventually begin to eat, more out of habit than hunger, she suspected.
When their meal was finished, he rose without speaking and turned away from the table.
“If you would like some company in your study,” Skye said hurriedly, “I would be happy to oblige. I swear I won’t pester you about helping my uncle. I happen to believe that we could make a good bargain—but I won’t mention it again.”
She did not get the expected rise out of him. Hawkhurst merely responded with that soft growl she was coming to know too well. “I would prefer you leave me in peace.”
Skye watched him walk away. When she was alone once more, a worried frown turned down her mouth. She hated feeling helpless, but even more, she hated that Hawkhurst seemed so burdened by his thoughts. He was only getting more morose by the hour. At this rate, he would resemble a beast in truth. And there appeared to be nothing at all she could do about it.
In actuality, Hawk was contemplating a visit to the damaged wing of his house. He had to credit Lady Skye for inspiring the fortitude he’d been missing since his arrival at the castle. He ought not be intimidated by a mere building.
Even so, he detoured to his study to fetch a fresh bottle of brandy, knowing he might need a dose of liquid courage in order to face the charred remains of his son’s nursery. He had to face the past at some point, and this was as good a time as any.
He also took a lamp to light his way and an iron bar to pry open the boards that had blocked the burned corridor for nearly a decade.
The fire had almost destroyed the farthest end of the wing, beginning on the second floor and burning through the servants’ quarters and attics above, before collapsing the roof in places. Only a deluge from a massive thunderstorm had kept the flames from incinerating the rest of the mansion and the surrounding outbuildings.
Hawk’s gut was tied in knots as he worked the boards loose until he created a wide enough opening for him to squeeze through. The musty, mildewed stench that hit him was mixed with the faint, acrid scent of smoke—although that could have been his imagination playing tricks.
Secrets of Seduction Page 7