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!’
‘My dear Jane, this is exactly how two titled gentlemen settle their differences,’ the Earl told her dryly.
‘I have warned you against calling her by her first name!’ Hawk reminded him chillingly.
The Earl quirked mocking brows. ‘You reserve that privilege, for yourself, eh, Stourbridge?’
Hawk’s hand clenched into fists at his sides. ‘Explain that remark, if you please!’
‘Do not explain that remark—or indeed any other!’ Jane instructed impatiently, and she put out her hands and rested one on either man’s chest, her face flushed with anger, green eyes glittering warningly as she glared at them both. ‘Really, I have never encountered such nonsense in my life,’ she continued fiercely, keeping her hands on the men’s chests in order to hold them at bay. ‘You will not name a time and a place,’ she told the Duke disgustedly. ‘And you, My Lord—’ she turned impatiently to Whitney ‘—you will not challenge the Duke to a duel for mentioning a reputation that I have absolutely no doubt you took great delight in acquiring and which you have long enjoyed!’
Whitney gave an appreciative grin. ‘How well you have come to know me in such a short time, dear Jane. But nevertheless…’ He sobered as the Duke gave a warning snort of impatience ‘—it simply is not done for a gentleman to cast aspersions upon another’s reputation—’
‘I do not believe they can be called aspersions when they are the truth,’ Jane cut in disgustedly.
‘From a lady they might be considered the truth,’ the Earl conceded. ‘From another gentleman they are an insult,’ he assured her. ‘In Stourbridge’s case deliberately so, I am sure.’ He looked at Hawk from between narrowed lids.
‘Nevertheless,’ Jane said determinedly, ‘I absolutely forbid either of you to continue with this foolishness.’
Hawk looked down at her as she stood between himself and Whitney, a hand still on each of their chests. A completely ineffective gesture when both men were inches taller than she, with powerfully muscled chests and arms that could easily have put her tiny form to one side before they continued with their argument.
That neither man chose to do so was due in part, Hawk knew, to the fact that Jane looked so magnificent in her outrage. The red vibrancy of her hair seemed almost to crackle like flame, her eyes glittered like emeralds, her normally full lips were thinned
