Tall, Dark & Notorious: The Duke's Cinderella Bride. Carole Mortimer

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need of you again.’

      If the butler saw anything unusual about this turn of events he did not show it by so much as a flicker of an eyebrow as he bowed formally before leaving the room.

      Hawk sighed. ‘The unfortunate situation developing between Arabella and myself has shown me how little experience I have in dealing with the capriciousness of young ladies, Jane.’

      ‘You surprise me, Your Grace.’

      Hawk could not fail to notice the mocking glint in her eyes. ‘Young ladies that are related to me, Jane!’

      ‘Of course, Your Grace.’ She nodded coolly. ‘But if that truly is the case, perhaps the answer might be to forget that Lady Arabella is related to you…?’

      Hawk had far from forgotten Jane’s disappearance outside earlier this evening. Or the fact that she had returned to the house while he was in the process of questioning Jenkins as to whether or not he knew of her whereabouts—which he had not. No, Hawk certainly had not forgotten. He was simply awaiting the appropriate moment in which to introduce the subject…

      He shook his head now. ‘I am not sure that I understand you, Jane. Arabella may not like me very much at this moment, but there is no doubting the fact that she is my sister!’

      ‘Assuredly not, Your Grace,’ Jane answered dryly.

      He raised dark brows. ‘Now, why do I sense some sort of rebuke in that remark, Jane…?’

      ‘I have no idea, Your Grace,’ she came back innocently. ‘But from what I have observed of Lady Arabella I believe that at the age of eighteen she wishes to be treated as an adult rather than as a child. As a child in need of a companion, for instance…’

      Hawk’s mouth tightened at the rebuke. ‘Arabella is still a child, Jane, and at the moment she is behaving like a spoilt, wilful one.’

      ‘Was it a child who received several marriage proposals only weeks ago? Was it for a child that you would have approved of her accepting one of those marriage proposals?’

      ‘You insult me if you think I would have been happy for her to accept a proposal of marriage just for the sake of it, Jane,’ Hawk defended coldly.

      ‘The nature of any marriage proposal and the suitability of the man involved are both irrelevant to this conversation, Your Grace,’ Jane reasoned softly. ‘What is pertinant is that you cannot expect Lady Arabella to receive proposals of marriage one day and be treated like a child again the next. Moreover, a child who is to be told what she may or may not do, and when she may do it.’

      Hawk drew in a sharp breath as he bit back his icy retort. A part of him knew that he had invited Jane’s criticism by confiding in her in this way, and another part of him was surprised that he had done so…

      In the years since he had assumed his role as head of the St Claire family, Hawk had expected his siblings to respect his wishes. That he did not appear to have achieved this as well as he might have wanted had been brought home to him not once but twice in recent weeks. First in Sebastian’s absolute refusal to contemplate the idea of any marriage—let alone one suggested by Hawk—and yet again today by Arabella’s stubbornness when it came to acceding to any of his demands.

      He did not, however, appreciate having Jane, of all people, point out these failings to him! He looked down his nose at her. ‘I refuse to believe I have ever been guilty of such arrogance with any of my siblings, Jane.’

      ‘Really?’ She gave an acknowledging inclination of her head. ‘Then I must assume it is only where “nuisances who disrupt your peaceful existence” are concerned…?’

      Hawk picked up his glass of claret and took a much-needed drink, his gaze narrowing as he looked down the length of the highly polished table at the woman who had disrupted his peaceful existence from the moment they had first met.

      Jane was looking particularly lovely this evening. Her gleaming red hair was arranged in an abundance of ringlets upon her crown, with several enticing tendrils brushing her nape and brow, her creamy throat was once again bare of any adornment—possibly because Jane had no jewellery with which to adorn it?—and the simple cut of her gown succeeding only in emphasising the curvaceous perfection of her body.

      A warmly seductive body that Hawk could not deny he was totally aware of. ‘I believe you malign me in saying I have ever told you what you may do, Jane.’ His voice was harsh.

      Her mouth thinned. ‘Only what I may not do, sir!’

      ‘You are referring, I presume, to the fact that I refused to allow you to run off to London in a reckless manner?’

      ‘I am referring, Your Grace, to the fact that at two and twenty I am perfectly old enough to make my own decisions!’ Her eyes glittered warningly.

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