by Amelia Grey
“I heard,” he said, “but I aim to change that. I’ve put a good deal of thought into this, Miss Quick, and your brother is the husband I want for Adele. I’ve never seen him too deep in his cups, and he never gambles more than a handful of dollars at the tables. I’ve never heard a harsh rumor about him at White’s; nor have I heard Mr. Quick complain about anyone else. By all accounts he’s a fine gentleman who prefers books over swords, poetry over carousing, and tea over brandy.”
A soft, sweet smile came easily to her lips and she politely said, “In other words, he’s nothing like the man you are.”
She was even more incredibly daring than he first thought. To talk so freely and challengingly to a duke, and not be the least bit intimidated about how he might react, was astonishing. And to top off that, she managed to take him to task without being petulant about it. She had good reason to give him that satisfied smile.
Hawk grunted a laugh. “You go right for the throat, don’t you, Miss Quick?”
“I’d rather think of it as going directly to the heart of the matter, Your Grace.”
“Either way, you have unquestionable courage.”
“And you have undoubtable arrogance to think you can come here and expect my brother to simply accept your bidding and take your sister to be his bride.”
He met her confident stare. “In a word, yes.”
She didn’t waver. “You will not win me over on this issue, Your Grace. I will counsel him against such an alliance.”
“Somehow that doesn’t surprise me.”
“And it doesn’t surprise me that once again I have a peer standing before me who is trying to arrange a marriage between two people who don’t know each other.”
“Tell me, do you have something against my sister?”
“Of course not. I haven’t met her.”
“Maybe you are just against your brother marrying a young lady who is lovely, clever, and brings a generous dowry with her.”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” she said, fending off his allegation without hesitation.
“Then perhaps you are simply against him marrying.”
“You are wrong again,” she said pragmatically. “I am for my brother making his own decision about who he will marry with no one else’s interference. And quite frankly, Your Grace, I find all this talk of marriage beyond the pale. My brother has only just passed his twenty-fourth birthday.”
“I am aware of his age, Miss Quick.”
“Yet you seek him out to be a husband?” she argued. “What would you have said if someone had mentioned an arrangement of marriage to you at such a young age?”
When Hawk was twenty-four, he wasn’t too far removed from the Rakes of St. James secret admirer scandal. “No one would have dared to suggest marriage to me, I assure you.”
Raising her eyebrows as if sensing victory, she said, “Correct. And you should also know that Paxton probably hasn’t given marriage a thought, either.”
“That could very well be true, but there is nothing wrong with finding out if he might be tempted to at least meet Lady Adele. I would think that you would be pleased I thought highly enough of your brother to want him to marry my sister.”
She shilly-shallied. At last he’d said something she didn’t have a saucy retort for. Maybe they were now making progress.
“Of course, that I’m happy you think so flatteringly of Paxton goes without saying,” she finally admitted. “I have no doubt he would make your sister a fine husband.”
“You are not helping your case, Miss Quick, only furthering mine.”
“That is not my intention and you know it. I’m trying not to be completely disagreeable here. My brother does have much to recommend him, and I won’t deny that. But since you are pressing the issue, I will say what I was trying to avoid and spare you the truth.”
The muscles in Hawk’s shoulders and back tightened. “I need no sparing from anyone, Miss Quick,” he said through gritted teeth. “Especially from the truth.”
“Good. Though I’m not in Society now, I have been. And I have met the daughters and sisters of dukes. I found them to be demanding, selfish, and terribly overindulged. I expect Paxton will marry someone who is sweet, thoughtful of others, and more suitable to his happy, gentle disposition. Perhaps a vicar’s daughter.”
Hawk’s jaw hardened. Was she disparaging Adele? Now the bold miss had gone too far; for the first time, her tautly spoken words didn’t sit well with Hawk.
“A vicar’s daughter?” He repeated the phrase as though it were a curse. He took a menacing step toward Miss Quick. “Are you suggesting my sister isn’t good enough for your brother?”
She stood her ground. “I’m not suggesting anything about your sister particularly, but overall about what I’ve heard, read, and observed the short time I was Society. And I only add the kind of lady I would like to see Paxton marry. Now do you still think I am furthering your cause, Your Grace?”
Her back was straight and her head tilted defiantly. She spoke her mind fearlessly better than most of the men he knew. If Hawk’s sister were only half as strong-minded as Miss Quick, he wouldn’t be seeking a husband for her; she’d be looking for one herself.
It hadn’t been his choice for his sister to be his responsibility. His parents had been killed when a ship that was taking them to Portugal sank as it sailed into the harbor. He’d just come of age, so her guardianship had fallen to him. At the time, Hawk hadn’t even learned how to take care of himself. Drinking, gambling, and women were his priorities. Not young girls. He’d solicited the help of his widowed cousin, Minerva Philbert, who’d moved into Hawksthorn to watch after Adele.
Hawk relaxed his stance and said, “No, Miss Quick, I’d say you’ve made your case very plainly.”
“Good,” she said, seeming pleased with herself.
He gave her a knowing smile. “But you must know that the more you tell me you don’t want this to happen between our families, the more I intend to see that it does.”
She moistened her lips and seemed to think on his comment before saying, “Your idea is rubbish. What does Lady Adele think of you trying to control her life by picking her husband? I don’t know her but find it difficult to believe she’s delighted with that idea.”
“My sister agrees with me and knows I only want what’s best for her. She knows I wouldn’t force her to marry your brother or anyone else if she found him detestable.”
Miss Quick huffed a soft breath. “No one could find Paxton detestable. And I would be pleased for my brother to marry whomever he wishes, whenever he wishes. What I don’t want is him falling victim to a scoundrel duke like you waving money, position, and prestige in front of him for your own selfish reasons.”
“You think I am doing this for me?” He took another step closer to Miss Quick. “My reasons are not for myself but for my sister. My only goal is to see to it she comes to no harm and makes a good match, and I make no excuses for putting her welfare above all else.”
“Nor I my brother’s.”
“So then we understand each other.”
“It appears we do. You will fight for Lady Adele and I will fight for Paxton. I didn’t save myself from an arranged marriage only to watch my brother walk blindly into one.”
“You don’t think much of your brother’s ability to take care of this himself, do you?”
“Nor you, your sister’s.”
Her defiance was commendable, but if she thought to frighten him away by her firm stand on this matter, she was mistaken. “Then the lines have been drawn and the battle has begun, Miss Quick.”
“So it seems.”
“Now, when do you expect your brother to return?”
“I really can’t say for sure,” she said with a slight lift to her chin. “Usually he’s only gone a couple of weeks, but this time it’s been longer. That’s why when you first arrived I thought you might be bringing news of him. So yes, I expect he should return in a day or two.”
“But yo
u have no reason to think he won’t be back by the end of next week.”
Reluctantly, she answered, “No.” Then she quickly added, “He’ll be sorry to have missed you. Now, may I get you something to eat or drink? Or perhaps you’d just like to warm yourself by the fire a little longer before you take your leave.”
Hawk’s primal instinct rose. She was dismissing him. Treating him as if she had the rank of duke instead of him. And while it amazed him she had the audacity to do it, it also irritated the devil out of him. She had more mettle than any other lady he’d met. He couldn’t let her pluck stand without redress. While she might be anxious to be rid of him, he wasn’t in a hurry to depart from her.
“A glass of port, wine, or brandy would be welcomed.” He looked around the sparsely furnished room. “If you have it.”
A twitch of a smile played at the edges of her mouth, and Hawk found it downright enchanting. He hoped the faint amusement on her lips was because she knew he was delaying his departure just to irritate her. If so, good.
“Paxton always has a bottle of something available.”
She turned away, and the tug of arousal tightened Hawk’s lower body again. Waves of rich, shimmering blond hair that looked as if it could have been spun from moonlight cascaded down her back. For a moment, he envisioned her sitting astride him with all those glorious tresses falling delicately around her bare shoulders, and tickling his chest as she bent to kiss him.
Miss Quick glanced back at him and her gaze caught his, stare for stare. Hawk had little doubt Miss Quick suspected in her innocent way what he’d been thinking, but, more important, at that moment he saw that she was attracted to him, too.
“It’s brandy,” she said softly, opening one of the compartments on the secretary and pulling out a tray with glasses and a decanter on it.
“That’s fine,” he answered.
He watched her. Her movements were confident but refined as she took the top off the decanter and poured a generous splash into the glass.
Without taking her attention off him, she walked over and extended the drink to him. “There isn’t much daylight left.”
So this was to be a test of her courage and his resolve. She was still trying to get rid of him. It was admirable. And it was probably best if he did go soon, but … the rogue in him couldn’t bend to her wishes.
He took the glass. “It’s still raining.”
She glanced out the window, too. “So it is. Please, do sit down and enjoy your drink and the fire for a while.”
And your company.
“It will be my pleasure, Miss Quick, but first I must ask a favor. My horse stepped in a hole and can’t be ridden. When I leave, I will have to ask to borrow one of yours to ride back to the village.”
“Oh, my.” Her fan-shaped brows lifted. “I’m afraid that’s not going to be possible.”
He smiled. She even had to take him to task over the use of one of her horses. “I’ll see that it’s returned, Miss Quick.”
“I have no doubt of that, Your Grace.” She glanced out the window again and worried her bottom lip for a few seconds. Concern was back in her expression when she faced him again.
“Is there a problem?”
“Yes. I would be more than happy to lend you a mount so that you can take your leave, if I had one. We have only four at Mammoth House. My brother and his valet are away on two of them and Mr. Huddleston and his helper have the other two. They left this morning for their weekly visit to Grimsfield for supplies. It’s quite a distance, as you no doubt know, so they always stay overnight with Mr. Huddleston’s brother. They aren’t expected back until tomorrow.”
“Only four horses on an estate this size?” That was unimaginable.
“There’s no need for more, as we lead a simple life here at Mammoth House.”
“That’s a bit too simple as far as I’m concerned,” he said irritably. “Does the earl know of this?”
“My uncle is very generous to allow my brother and me to live in such a grand home with servants to care for our needs.”
So it was the Earl of Switchingham who had Miss Quick and her brother living in the middle of this vast valley with nothing surrounding it and few creature comforts. He should have guessed.
“So then, I’m to assume there is no one at the stable to care for my horse outside.”
Her shoulders lifted. “I’m quite capable of doing that for you, Your Grace.”
He grunted. What did she take him for? A pampered ninny? She was by far the most direct and unpretentious young lady he’d ever met.
“No, Miss Quick, you are not. I will not see the day I’ll allow a female to care for my horse.”
“As you wish.” He watched as she swallowed hard, hesitating more than once before finally saying, “So then, unless you intend to walk back to the village, I’ll have to offer you a bed for the night.”
A slow roll of enticement started in Hawk’s throat and rumbled down to his chest and into his lower stomach. Anticipation had his heartbeat thundering in his chest. Even though her words were soft, breathy, and oh so sensual to his ears, he knew she hadn’t meant her invitation the way his body responded to it.
Her expression was apprehensive. Her dark-blue eyes questioned him. How would he answer?
She not only provoked every one of his senses, but also heated his desire and stimulated his mind. She was truly lovely, tempting, and undeniably innocent. Those things made for a powerful combination, and his body was letting him know in no uncertain way that he wanted her with an intensity that he hadn’t felt in a very long time.
If ever.
He should offer to bed down in the stable. A true gentleman would and not leave the virtuous Miss Quick open to any hint of scandal. But the cold, damp stable was as appealing as a sickbed, and the last place Hawk wanted to stay this night.
So should he do the right thing, be a gentleman and stay in the stable, or—as he had so often done in the past—do the wrong thing and continue to be a rake?
Chapter 2
A gentleman would never put a young lady’s reputation at risk. No matter how tempting the thought of doing so might be.
A PROPER GENTLEMAN’S GUIDE TO WOOING THE PERFECT LADY
SIR VINCENT TYBALT VALENTINE
Loretta Quick was quite simply shaking in her slippers, but the Duke of Hawksthorn would never know. Her inner trembling wasn’t from fear of him or even nervousness that he was a duke. It was because the moment she saw him, something changed inside her and she still wasn’t sure what to make of the new, startling, and unexplained feelings that had swept over her at the sight of him. She wasn’t out of breath, yet she was breathless. She wasn’t dizzy, yet she felt light-headed. She wasn’t hungry, yet looking at him caused a ravenous appetite to rise up within her.
The duke was as handsome a man as Loretta had ever seen, with wide masculine lips, a narrow nose, and a slightly square, clean-shaven chin. He was the most arrogant, too. He stood tall, broad-shouldered, and powerful-looking dressed in buckskin-colored trousers that were stuffed into over-the-knee boots. A well-fitted brown velvet coat with shiny brass buttons lined down the front and on the sleeves did little to hide his muscular build. Rain droplets clung to the ends of his thick light-brown hair and had dampened the edges of his collar and neckcloth.
Standing before her so splendidly male, she could easily believe he was one of the notorious Rakes of St. James she’d read so much about. The trio of titled gentlemen had proved to a stunned Society that every young belle wanted to be pursued by a secret admirer. Looking at him, Loretta could understand why, even after he’d demonstrated his notably roguish ways, ladies all over London still vied for the Duke of Hawksthorn’s attention. From what she’d read in the scandal sheets he and the other unwed rakes were sought after by young misses, aging widows, and beautiful heiresses.
The duke’s eyes, such a deep shade of green, held steady on hers. The seconds were ticking by and still he hadn’t responded to her offer of lod
ging for the night. Manners had dictated she ask him. But what would he say?
The nerve-racking silence between them lengthened until at last he said, “Thank you, Miss Quick, but out of respect for your reputation, I’ll stay in the stable.”
So he was a gentleman after all. Loretta pushed her disturbing thoughts about the duke to the back of her mind and forced herself to take control of her stirring emotions.
Her breath clogged her throat, but she managed to answer, “No, Your Grace. Just as you won’t allow a lady to care for your horse, I can’t let a duke spend the night in an earl’s stable. This state of affairs in which we find ourselves is not something over which we have any control. There’s no need for you to be out in the cold on such a stormy evening when there are so many rooms in this house.”
“I’ll accept,” he said with a nod, “if you are sure it won’t be a burden on you.”
Mammoth House was an apt name for the stone building that was her home. It was massive. The rooms were large, the corridors wide, and the ceilings high. Though in truth, she wondered if it was big enough for the both of them to reside in for a night.
“Not in the least. Mrs. Huddleston, Bitsy, my maid, and two other servants are here with me. I am not alone.” She paused and then added, “And I am not helpless.”
A twitch of a grin lifted one corner of his mouth. “That I have already determined; however, I believe you are implying I should take your last comment as a warning?”
It didn’t surprise her he was so astute.
“I would never presume that I should need to warn a duke about such established matters.”
“But it was a warning just the same, wasn’t it?”
His tone remained light. Loretta lifted her chin. She wanted to keep a straight, unaffected face, but in the end a smile quivered on her lips, too, as she said, “It was a statement of fact, Your Grace.”
“Perhaps your forthright manner is why I’m so intrigued by you, Miss Quick.”
Is he?