Chapter Six

      ‘I will always be in your debt, my lord. I don’t know how I can ever repay you for the wonderful help you gave to me and to Lily.’

      No flirting, Jack told himself sternly as a rogue thought of how he’d like this desirable woman to please him infiltrated his mind. He gazed into a pair of glowing green eyes, then leaned forward on the coach seat to take the slender fingers she held out to him. She squeezed his hands strongly in gratitude and he caressed the soft skin beneath his thumbs. It was innocent, he told himself, letting her go and gazing out into the gathering gloom. There was nothing seductive in a kind touch.

      ‘There is one thing you can do for me that will be ample reward,’ he said with a half-smile. ‘No more “my lord”, please. I remember you called me Jack years ago, at my insistence, it’s true. And I believe you permitted me to use your name, when we were alone.’

      ‘I would like that, sir...’ Dawn gestured a bashful apology as he raised a wry eyebrow. ‘It is a habit that I will soon break now I feel we are becoming friends.’

      ‘I hope we are already friends, Dawn,’ he said quietly, but held back on hinting he intended they’d eventually be more than that. Since their reunion in London he’d spent just a few hours in her company, yet she’d already crept back beneath his skin. It wasn’t so long ago he’d sworn he’d never again let Dawn Sanders mean too much to him. Yet within a week of being home in England his sensible intention of avoiding her had been overtaken by a restless need to be wherever she was. He had arranged to dine with their mutual friends, guessing that the Houndsmeres would invite her along, too. He’d also guessed she might stay away to avoid him and she had. But it had done nothing to lessen his need to see her. He’d rather be spurned than know she was indifferent to his presence. Spotting her on Regent Street had been a stroke of luck. Once he’d spoken to her, he’d known she was no more immune to him than he was to her.

      After that meeting all logic had been overtaken by memories of how much he’d once wanted her. He had a mistress who was sensual and amiable enough to satisfy his need for female company, yet he’d taken Pauline home from Regent Street that day and hadn’t visited her since. She had twice called on him, though, uninvited and much to his annoyance, to try to rekindle their relationship.

      Jack hadn’t had a pressing reason to travel to Essex. Once he’d discovered that Dawn was heading in that direction he’d decided to visit his estate in the hope of seeing her again. Now he thanked the Lord he had set out on the road, even if for mile upon mile he’d mocked himself for acting like a moonstruck fool obsessed with his first maid. But that was forgotten now, overtaken by genuine relief that he’d been in the right place at the right time to be of service. He felt immensely glad to be removing Dawn and her granddaughter from Mansfield’s clutches and the depressing atmosphere at the vicarage.

      Despite all of that, he regretted that the timing couldn’t have been more inappropriate to hint at how they had once felt about one another. He still wanted her and hoped she still had similar feelings for him. But holding her, soothing her with kisses and caresses, as a lover would, had to wait. For now kind words and condolences must suffice. Jack knew for decency’s sake he must be very patient. Dawn needed to deal with the consuming heartache that was preventing her turning her thoughts to anything other than her granddaughter’s welfare.

      Jack looked at the little girl stretched out beside her youthful grandma with her head on Dawn’s lap. ‘She quickly dropped off to sleep after her upset.’

      ‘I’m sorry Lily made such a dreadful racket. She can be mischievous at times, but is usually easily distracted from it.’ Dawn placed a loving hand on the child’s fair hair. ‘The poor little mite must be so confused. I have told her that her mama is in heaven and she seemed to accept it. But in her own way, she knows something is wrong and is now missing her mama dreadfully.’