prefer to be arrested and imprisoned?’ Hawk could barely contain the anger he felt at her stubborn refusal to confide in him.
Her mouth twisted scathingly. ‘For something I did not do?’
Hawk was a local magistrate. He knew far better than Jane how the law worked. And with two such credible witnesses against her as Lady Sulby and her daughter, coupled with her own sudden flight from Markham Park, Jane would be found guilty before the case was even presented in a court of law.
He stepped forward to grasp her shoulders impatiently and shake her into looking up at him. ‘Can you not see, Jane, that it will not matter whether or not you are guilty of the crime?’
‘Of course it will matter!’ she assured him fiercely, the glitter in her eyes not just from anger now, but also unshed tears. ‘I know nothing of the theft of Lady Sulby’s jewellery. Nothing!’ she repeated vehemently. ‘I do know that Lady Sulby hates me, as she hated my mother before me—’
‘Your mother, Jane?’ Hawk probed softly, when she broke off abruptly. ‘Did you not tell me that your mother died when you were born?’
‘She did. But—’ Jane broke off again as she realised she had been about to tell more than she wanted him to know. Bad enough that he believed her to be a thief and a liar, without adding illegitimacy to that list of sins. ‘Lady Sulby was acquainted with my mother.’Jane chose her words carefully. ‘She told me she did not like her—that she did not approve at all when Sir Barnaby accepted guardianship of Janette’s daughter.’ Jane paled as a sudden thought—truth?—hit her with the force of a blow.
Her mother’s letters to her lover confirmed Lady Sulby’s claim that he had been a married man.
Twenty-three years ago Sir Barnaby had already been married to Lady Sulby for two years. Lady Sulby hated and despised Jane, she had told her, as she had hated and despised her mother before her.
Could it be that it was Sir Barnaby who had been Janette’s lover twenty-three years ago? That Jane was his illegitimate daughter?
It would explain so many things if that were the case—most of all Jane being left to the guardianship of a man she had never even heard her adopted father mention, let alone one whom Jane had actually met before he and Lady Sulby had come to collect her from Somerset on that desolate day twelve years ago.
Could it be that Jane’s mad flight to find her real father had been completely unnecessary? That she had been living under his guardianship all along…?
It was difficult to imagine the rotund Sir Barnaby as the dashingly handsome lover who had swept her mother off her feet all those years ago, whom her mother had so described in her letters when she had expressed the hope that her unborn child would resemble him. But Sir Barnaby could have—must have—looked far different twenty-three years ago…
‘Jane…?’
She blinked dazedly as she focused on Hawk. On the condemning Duke of Stourbridge. ‘I will leave Mulberry Hall immediately.’
‘No, Jane, you will not!’ Hawk cut in forcefully, having been angered seconds ago at Jane’s sudden distraction of thought. What could possibly be more urgent for her to contemplate than the dire situation she found herself in?
And, no matter how Jane might choose to dismiss the whole incident, it was dire. An accusation of theft had been made against her, her arrest ordered, and mere claims of innocence on Jane’s part would not suffice to cancel that order.
But as the powerful Duke of Stourbridge Hawk did have some influence. ‘I am willing to help you, Jane—’
‘As I said before, I do not remember asking for your help, Your Grace,’ she cut in coldly.
Hawk looked down at her searchingly. Did Jane really not see how precarious her position was?
‘Neither do I ask for it now, Your Grace,’ she continued haughtily as she attempted to shake off his hold on her shoulders. ‘Release me, sir,’ she ordered coldly when she was unsuccessful in that attempt.
He shook his head impatiently. ‘Jane, if you leave Mulberry Hall without my protection you will be exposed to immediate arrest and imprisonment.’
She gave him a pitying look. ‘I am willing to take my chances.’
Even the thought of Jane exposed to the harshness of a prison cell, to the cold and the rats and the untender mercies of the turnkey, was enough to make Hawk shudder.
She would rather suffer all that than accept his help…?
His hands dropped from her shoulders before he stepped back. ‘Then you are a fool, Jane!’ he assured her harshly.
Her eyes glittered challengingly. ‘I would rather be thought a fool than live any longer under the protection of the Duke of Stourbridge!’
Hawk flinched as if Jane had physically struck him. Was that really how she felt? Did Jane despise him—hate him so much after what had occurred between them yesterday evening that she was willing to suffer imprisonment rather than accept his help?
The defiant expression on her face, the scorn directed towards him that she made no effort to hide, was answer enough…
He drew in a ragged breath before speaking again. ‘Jane, I advise you to put aside your feelings of enmity towards me and instead concentrate on the matter at hand.’ His expression was grim. ‘I can intercede for you with Sir Barnaby. I have found him to be a kind and reasonable man, and I am sure—’
‘No!’ Jane cut forcefully across the Duke’s reasoning speech. ‘I will speak to Sir Barnaby myself, when I return to Markham Park.’
‘You mean to go back there?’ The Duke looked incredulous.
Yes, Jane intended going back to Markham Park.
She had thought to find answers to her past in Somerset, but now it seemed that Sir Barnaby might be the person who had those answers. That he might be her real father…
Whether he was or he was not, Jane knew she needed to return to Markham Park in order to clear her name as a thief. To expose Lady Sulby for the liar that she was.
For Jane became more and more convinced by the second that Lady Sulby’s jewels were not missing at all—that Lady Sulby herself had hidden the jewels away somewhere, and merely taken advantage of Jane’s flight in order to blacken her name even further.
She refocused on the Duke, her lips curving into a humourless smile at the disbelief in his expression. ‘Yes, of course I mean to go back there.’
‘Jane, you cannot—’
‘I must go,’ she assured him firmly, implacably.
And, whether she planned to return to Markham Park or not, Jane knew that she could not remain under the Duke’s roof for a moment longer. He could not be further from the truth when he said Jane had feelings of enmity towards him. How could she possibly have feelings of ill-will towards the man she loved with all her heart?
The man who minutes ago had broken that heart when he refused to believe in her innocence…
