by Amelia Grey
She lifted her shoulders just enough to make her appear defiant. “The last thing I want is for anyone, least of all Paxton’s friends, to know of this proposition. They would be encouraging him to accept the offer posthaste. The lot of them would be thrilled to have a friend who was married to a duke’s sister, hoping that it would in some way benefit them, if only to give them something to crow about. It is my hope that no one other than the three of us ever hears about this, Your Grace.”
Hawk chuckled. When she was opposed to something, he wasn’t sure anything could daunt her spirit.
“I would hope your brother will listen to all you have to say but that in the end, he will make up his own mind about what will be best for him and not let you decide for him.”
She moistened her lips and swallowed. “Certainly. He will. He is his own man. However, there’s really no need for you to return to Mammoth House. I’m sure Paxton won’t mind traveling to London to see you. He seldom stays here for long stretches anyway.”
A grin lifted one corner of Hawk’s mouth. “If I didn’t know better, Miss Quick, I would think that you don’t want to see me again.”
She moved farther away from the bed and pulled her shawl tighter again. “I’m only trying to keep you from making the long and unnecessary journey back here.”
“No.” He walked over to stand close to her again. “You are trying to keep me from coming back to see you.”
He liked that she didn’t cower from his nearness but looked him straight in the eyes and said, “I do think that would be best.”
Her honesty gave Hawk another moment of conscience. Was she really the reason he wanted to return? Admittedly he was more than a little infatuated with her. And yes, he wanted to see her again, but to what end other than he desired her? He didn’t know. And wanting to find the answer to that was going to bring him back.
“I’ll want to check in and see how he’s doing.” Hawk quirked his head toward the boy again. “With the excellent care he is going to receive from you and Mrs. Huddleston, I expect he’ll be ready to travel by the time I return. I’ll see to it that he gets back to Grimsfield, or London, or wherever it is he came from.”
“What if he doesn’t want to go back where he came from?” Her expression turned worried once again. “I mean, whoever he was with didn’t take proper care of him. He could have been with someone who mistreated him. Perhaps he ran away to save himself and that is why he’s on his own.”
She wasn’t going to be easily placated concerning the boy, and Hawk knew that if it was already too late to save him, Miss Quick wouldn’t take the news well.
“Then I’ll take him wherever he wants to go.”
That seemed to satisfy her a little better. Her shoulders relaxed and her breathing settled to a calm rhythm. Hawk should have left his words at that, but he seldom knew when to leave well enough alone.
Without much forethought, he bent his head closer to hers and added, “Besides, Miss Quick, I think you want to see me again.”
She stiffened. “I believe you might be speaking for yourself and how you feel, Your Grace, but you are not speaking for me.”
“I am speaking for both of us and, whether you will admit it or not, you know I speak the truth. We have a battle going on, you and I. And it won’t surprise you to know that I never walk away from a fight. I don’t think you do, either.”
“Not if I believe it’s winnable, and I believe this one is.”
“So do I.”
“You know I will counsel my brother against contemplating any kind of betrothal arrangement with you concerning your sister.”
He nodded once. “I know, but that’s not the battle I was talking about just now.”
Her forehead furrowed and her eyes searched his face again. Her breathing became more labored. “What other battle could you possibly be referring to?”
Hawk knew she had no idea what he was talking about, because he’d had no inclination of it himself until that moment. But now he knew it as clearly as he knew his own name.
A second or two passed before he answered, “The battle for you, Miss Quick.”
Chapter 7
A gentleman should never be talking to one young lady and allow his thoughts to wander to different young lady.
A PROPER GENTLEMAN’S GUIDE TO WOOING THE PERFECT LADY
SIR VINCENT TYBALT VALENTINE
Hawk was sure there were worse things than being the guardian of a younger sister but at the moment he didn’t know what they were. He stood in the vestibule of his London town house shaking his head. Adele was the last person he expected to see upon his arrival back in Town. He would have immediately assumed something was seriously wrong at Hawksthorn if not for the sparkle of warmth and happiness showing in her light-green eyes.
“What the devil are you doing here?” he asked, removing his hat and tossing it onto the side table.
“I came to see you, of course,” she answered in her usual perky manner.
“To see me?” Exasperated, Hawk dragged his cloak from around his shoulders and glared at her. “Alone? In the dead of winter? Whatever for? I saw you less than a month ago at Hawksthorn.”
“First, I wasn’t alone.” She smiled, took the cloak from his hands, and laid it beside his hat. “I had Minerva, a footman, a driver, and, of course, my maid with me. The same group as when I travel to London with you. And how ridiculous of you to suggest it’s the dead of winter with spring only weeks away. The roads weren’t bad at all. And why are you looking so glum? I thought you’d be happy to see me.”
“Did you really?” he asked, waving away the servant who’d walked into the vestibule to greet him.
“Yes, of course I did.”
It irritated Hawk all the more that Adele didn’t seem to have any idea how foolish she’d been to travel to London without him as her escort. She could have been in grave danger if the coach had been set upon by highwaymen. Armed footman or not.
He would speak to Minerva about allowing her to undertake this folly. Not that it would do any good. Adele had her older cousin wrapped tightly about her finger. Minerva would never object to anything Adele wanted. His sister had been allowed to have her way since the day she was born to his aging parents. When they died within weeks of each other from a relentless plague of dysentery, Minerva had come to live at Hawksthorn and had followed their lead concerning Adele.
“Don’t be so cross with me, Hawk.” She clasped her hands together in front of her skirt and looked positively joyous. “I have the most wonderful news that I knew you’d want to hear right away. Miss Wiggins is going to have puppies! Soon!”
By the devil! Hawk could have bit nails. “You came to London to tell me that?”
“I thought you’d be happy to hear. You know how much I love Miss Wiggins.”
“I would have been happy to hear it when I returned to Hawksthorn. I don’t like you traveling to London without me and especially when I don’t even know you are coming.”
He didn’t like returning home from a grueling carriage ride over bumpy roads, cold, tired, and ready to settle in front of the fire with a glass of brandy and think about Miss Quick, only to find his sister standing in the doorway expecting him to be delighted with her presence.
Hawk loved his sister but she was work. She wanted to be taken care of—which was fine, but along with that she had an independent streak that was difficult to manage at times. Now that she was of marriageable age it was time someone other than Hawk took on the job.
“Your bluster is not going to diminish my enthusiasm,” Adele declared confidently.
That he was certain. Not much did.
“I know you’re weary from your journey and need to relax. Come into the drawing room and I’ll pour you a glass of your favorite brandy.”
With that she turned and headed down the corridor.
“I can pour my own drink,” he muttered to himself and then breathed in deeply as he tossed his gloves on top of his cloak.
&nbs
p; He couldn’t wait to deliver her to a husband so he could worry about her. The years he’d been her guardian had been a struggle. Perhaps he could have pushed thoughts of her welfare aside, left her to the threat of possible mischief while she searched for a husband at the balls, parties, and teas, if she weren’t so easy to love.
Spoiled though she may be, Adele didn’t have a malicious word to say or think about anyone. She wasn’t mean-spirited, or ill-tempered. She had a simple, engaging charm about her, and because she had no callousness or heartlessness in her soul she couldn’t see it in other people. Which was why he didn’t want her to attend the Season and be subjected to every bachelor who wanted to marry a duke’s sister. If there was the slightest possibility of anyone wanting to embarrass her or sully her reputation because of what he did years ago, Hawk wanted to preempt it.
“You know Miss Wiggins isn’t the only reason I’m here,” Adele said as he walked into the drawing room behind her.
“No, I don’t know,” Hawk answered, making himself comfortable in one of the upholstered armchairs by stretching his legs out in front of the fireplace while she made herself busy with the decanter.
“Well, it would have been silly of me to come all this way just to tell you that.”
Hawk grunted a laugh and brushed his hair away from his forehead. Did she really think he hadn’t already thought of that?
She handed him the glass of brandy. Hawked smiled up at her and said, “Thank you.”
Adele smiled, too, knelt down beside him, and said, “I couldn’t wait until you decided to return to Hawksthorn to hear what Mr. Quick had to say about an arrangement between us.”
“Why not?”
“Because I didn’t know when you’d return. You stay away from Hawksthorn for weeks at a time.”
There was no way Hawk was going to enlighten his innocent sister to the fact there were few things at the family estate to satisfy the appetites of a twenty-eight-year-old man. There were no friends to play cards, throw dice, or fence with. There were no fighting clubs to attend, no horse races to watch, no deep political discussions to argue. Most of all, there were no women to enjoy. In fact, his father’s collection of fine brandy, which he stopped and took a sip of, was about the only thing he could indulge in when he was there.
“We’ve discussed this before, Adele. I am not your doting father. I am your brother and there are commitments that keep me here in London. I told you I would return to Hawthorn as soon as I had talked to Mr. Quick. You should have waited there for me.”
“Oh!” She rose from her knees with a huff and a whirl of skirts. “You teased me by saying you have found the perfect husband for me and then you go away and I don’t see you for a month.”
“I never said he was perfect. Only that I think the two of you would suit. I told you this would take time. If you are uneasy about a prearranged marriage tell me now and we can forget about it.”
She folded her hands across her chest and stared down at him in disbelief. “Why should I want to choose my own husband when you can do it for me? You know all these men—their families, their habits, their pockets. I don’t.”
“Most young ladies want to choose their own husbands.”
“But most young ladies are not the daughter and the sister of a duke. Why should I go to all that trouble of sorting them out when you can do it for me? Papa always told me he would see to it that I married a young man who would be perfect for me. Now that he’s gone it’s up to you to do that for me.”
“And I will,” he answered patiently. “You must allow me the time to do it. I’ve just returned from trying to see Mr. Quick. He wasn’t at home.”
“Oh,” she said curiously. “Why not?”
“I really have no idea. Miss Quick, his sister, wasn’t very forthcoming about his whereabouts.”
“You didn’t tell me he had a sister.” Adele’s eyes lit with sparkles, and she knelt beside him again. “What is she like?”
A warmth settled over Hawk. He remembered Miss Quick standing in front of the glowing fireplace, looking like an angel. He remembered her delicate hands as she gently removed the cold, muddy boots from the sick lad.
Hawk looked back to his sister and said, “You. In certain ways, she’s like you.”
“What are those certain ways?” she asked excitedly. “Tell me now.”
“She’s gentle and kind but she’s also very outspoken just as you are. She wants her way about everything. And I do believe she loves her brother as much you love yours.”
Adele laughed. “She sounds positively charming. She and I should get along together grandly. I’m glad the brandy is calming you. I do enjoy being with you when you aren’t cross with me.”
“I never intend to be cross,” he admitted, doing his best to give her a contrite expression.
“I know, but—oh, Hawk, I just had an idea. Since you can’t find Mr. Quick, let’s invite him to Hawksthorn.”
“What?”
“Invite him to come see me. We’d talked about me meeting him before we settle anything.”
“But that was going to be after you made your curtsy before the queen and are officially on the marriage mart.”
“What a bore that will be. I want to meet Mr. Quick now and I think I should. Besides, what good does it do to be the sister of a duke if I can’t break the rules? If you want me engaged by the time the Season starts, I really need to meet him now. And I’d like to be acquainted with his sister as well. I want her to come, too.”
Hawk sat up straighter in the chair. “Miss Quick?”
“I’m intrigued by what you said about her. Besides, Miss Wiggins should have her puppies by the time a visit can be arranged. You can judge a lot about a person by how they treat puppies, don’t you think?”
Hawk felt a kick in his breathing. He remembered Miss Quick being in his arms. Her soft lips, her warm body, and the whispered satisfied sighs of enjoyment while he kissed her. Suddenly his mind started reeling with the possibilities of Miss Quick visiting his estate. Yes, he very much liked the idea of her coming to Hawksthorn with her brother.
Perhaps Hawk was happy his sister had come to London after all.
“Yes, Adele, you’re right.” He cupped her chin affectionately. “You can judge a person by how they handle puppies.” And sickly beggar boys, too.
Chapter 8
A few lines of self-written romantic poetry is the perfect gift for a gentleman to present to a lady.
A PROPER GENTLEMAN’S GUIDE TO WOOING THE PERFECT LADY
SIR VINCENT TYBALT VALENTINE
Farley.
Loretta worked the dark-gray yarn with her knitting needles and watched him from a large, comfortable wingback chair she’d moved over by the one window in the small room. His pain-racked cough had started before the apothecary had arrived from Grimsfield a few days ago. It was deep, throaty, and hoarse. A wet cloth that she often dipped in a basin of cool water lay on his hot forehead. His chest rose and fell with loud, long, labored breathing.
The apothecary had assessed what Loretta had already realized. Farley was gravely ill. The man didn’t know if the boy’s frail, lean body could fight off the fever and weakness that had developed in his lungs. Before leaving the next morning, the apothecary gave them a plethora of tinctures, tonics, poultices, and medical herbs of varying kinds along with instructions on how to use them all.
There was nothing more he could do.
During one of the boy’s semi-lucid moments yesterday, he’d answered “Farley” when she’d asked his name. Through most of his wakefulness he mumbled delirious, unintelligible words before slipping back into a fidgety sleep. Occasionally he would groan and thrash about wildly in the bed. From time to time she’d rouse him and force him to swallow a spoonful of broth or an herbal concoction Mrs. Huddleston had mixed for him before he’d succumb to fitful sleep again.
Though she was only seven years of age when her mother had died, Loretta remembered a few things about her mother’s ca
re. For one, she was never to be left alone. Loretta didn’t intend for Farley to be alone, either. All the servants helped see to that by taking turns sitting with him, including Arnold, who hadn’t seemed to mind that he’d had to give up his own room to the stranger.
Loretta tried to remain positive by thinking of the future. If the Duke of Hawksthorn’s observation was correct and Farley was indeed a street child, without family and with no place to call home, Mammoth House would be the best place for him.
Once Farley was well enough, she’d ask her uncle if he could stay and be a part of her household. There certainly was plenty of room. He could learn how to help Arnold care for the horses, or plant and tend to the herb and vegetable gardens. The two cows had to be milked each day, and the eggs had to be gathered. There were any number of daily chores and other animals that needed attention. The house and grounds were so extensive that there was always something that needed to be cleaned, repaired, moved, or taken away.
Farley shouldn’t require much payment, if any, since he was so young. Perhaps just a place to live and food to eat would be enough to tempt the lad to stay—if he had no place to go. The main thing was that he could start learning how to do something other than beg for a loaf of bread at a stranger’s door.
The knitting needles went still in her hands and she rested them on the ball of yarn. Besides, it was easier on her to think about Farley than to think about the duke. When she thought about him, she remembered stimulating conversations, sharing a meal, and tasting a sip of brandy with him from his glass. She remembered being in his arms, being touched, and—and yes, thinking about Farley was much less stressful for her.
But despite her best efforts, she thought often about the duke and wondered what he meant when he’d said they were in a battle for her. Did it mean he wanted to kiss her again? That he intended to seduce her and go even further given the opportunity? Maybe he knew that deep inside, her resolve was weaker than she proclaimed. Her fear was that maybe he could win her over. She was not immune to him as she had been to the viscount.