Tall, Dark... Collection. Кэрол Мортимер
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haunted look in Jane’s eyes as she had turned away from him. As the distance between the ducal coach and Markham Park had increased Hawk had found those inner shadows deepening. Until now, ten hours later, he was beset with such feelings of guilt at leaving Jane to her fate that he could think of little else.
But to have brought Jane away with him would have compromised her as well as himself. Totally.
Perhaps that was what she had wanted?
Somehow he did not think so. Her despair this morning had been too intense, too overwhelming to be anything but genuine in her desire to get as far away from Lady Sulby’s viciousness as was possible.
That he was partly to blame for that viciousness Hawk did not doubt, having been totally aware of his hostess’s fury the evening before, when he’d singled Jane out for his attentions. And that lady’s ambitions concerning her daughter and himself had become apparent during the long, tortuous dinner, when he’d had Lady Sulby seated on one side of him and the fair Olivia on the other.
As if that had ever been even a remote possibility!
But Hawk was haunted by the accusations he had himself hurled at Jane the previous evening, concerning her behaviour at dinner with Lord Tillton. Accusations he now knew to be unfounded.
Having failed to see James Tillton again before retiring yesterday evening, Hawk had deliberately sought him out this morning, when taking leave of his fellow guests, and had noted grimly the half-crescent indentations in the older man’s wrist. Indentations very like the piercing of neatly trimmed fingernails. Jane’s neatly trimmed fingernails.
There had also been nothing of the siren about Jane when she had appeared so suddenly in Hawk’s bedchamber that morning—none of the beguiling seductress using her persuasive skills in order to entice him into taking her away with him. There had been only the paleness of her cheeks and that haunting look of desperation in her eyes.
Damn it, there was nothing he could have done!
And yet that he had done nothing at all did not sit well with Hawk, either…
‘Can I get you anything else, Your Grace…?’
He looked up at the frowning serving girl, realising by the uncertainty of her expression that she had taken his scowl of frustration as a personal comment on the inn’s fare.
‘No.’ He sighed, nodding as she offered to remove his almost untouched plate of food from the table. ‘Except perhaps another jug of wine. Also…’ He halted her at the door. ‘Send my manservant to me here as soon as he arrives, will you?’
Much to Hawk’s added displeasure, his own departure from Markham Hall had been so precipitate that Dolton had not yet arrived at the inn with the second coach conveying Hawk’s clothes.
What was keeping the man? He might have news of Jane—might be able to report that when he’d left she had been smiling and happy…
No, he would not. Hawk instantly rebuked himself heavily. Any more than Dolton would be able to tell him that Lady Sulby had suddenly become a lady of grace and beauty! By even hoping Dolton would be able to tell him of anything pleasant left behind at Markham Park. Hawk was merely trying to appease his own conscience, for abandoning Jane in the way that he had after she had asked for his help.
What would Jane do now? Would she still go ahead with her decision to leave the only home she had known for the last twelve years? If so, where would she go? And to whom?
‘Your Grace?’
Hawk had been so deep in thought that he had totally missed Dolton’s arrival. He smiled at the sight of a friendly face before Dolton’s look of surprise made him realise that he was not usually so familiar with his valet. ‘Dolton.’ He sobered. ‘I trust you had an uneventful journey?’
‘Er—not exactly, Your Grace.’ The other man frowned uncomfortably. He was a small, slender man of middle years, his blond hair slightly thinning, his eyes a watery blue. Eyes that at this moment seemed to be evading his employer’s.
‘No?’ Hawk arched surprised brows. His question had been a politeness only. He expected that any problems Dolton might have encountered along the way would have been dealt with without the necessity of informing his employer of them.
Dolton still avoided meeting Hawk’s piercingly questioning gaze. ‘No, Your Grace. I—perhaps we could discuss this upstairs in your room,Your Grace?’he added awkwardly, as the serving girl bustled back into the parlour with the second jug of wine Hawk had requested.
Hawk’s brows rose even higher at the strangeness of Dolton’s behaviour. ‘As you can see, I have not yet finished dining.’
‘No, Your Grace.’ Dolton chewed on his bottom lip. ‘It’s just that I really would like to talk to you in private. If you please, Your Grace?’ He shrugged uncomfortably.
‘Leave us, please.’ Hawk dismissed the serving girl as she still hovered, probably with the intention of seeing to Dolton’s dinner requirements. ‘Now,’ he turned musingly to the other man once they were alone, ‘kindly tell me what has thrown you into such confusion, Dolton?’
His manservant drew in a deep breath before grimacing. ‘I would much rather show you, Your Grace.’
‘What can possibly have happened to disturb you so, Dolton?’
Hawk shook his head bemusedly as he stood up. ‘Have you discovered a stain on one of my jackets you cannot remove? Or perhaps a scuff on one of my best boots?’ It had been known for Dolton to be thrown into a paroxysm over just such an occurrence.
‘Nothing so simple, I am afraid, Your Grace.’ Dolton shook his head mournfully before opening the door for the Duke to precede him out of the room.
‘A wheel has fallen off the coach, perhaps?’ Hawk continued to dryly ridicule the man as he ascended the narrow stairway that led to the bedchambers above.
This inn was no better than the one Hawk had stayed at on his journey to Markham Park, but he had consoled himself with the realisation that at least this time he was on his way to his own home, rather than facing the unpleasant prospect of a week spent amongst virtual strangers.
‘No, Your Grace.’ His valet sighed as he mounted the stairs behind him.
‘For God’s sake, man—will you stop shilly-shallying and tell me what all this is about—?’
Hawk had opened the door to the bedroom allocated to him but came to an abrupt halt in the doorway to stare uncomprehendingly at the bonneted and cloaked figure that stood so demurely in the centre of the sparsely furnished room.
Jane Smith raised her lashes to look at him with green eyes that were far from demure.
‘What is the meaning of this?’ Hawk breathed chillingly, unable to remember when he had last felt so angry. If ever.
‘I only left the coach unattended for a minute or so, Your Grace. When I went to collect the picnic lunch the cook had prepared for our journey.’ Dolton launched into defensive speech as he stepped around the Duke to enter the room, his expression imploring as he looked up at his employer. ‘She must have slipped inside the coach while I was in the house. As you know, Your Grace, I always travel outside, with Taylor, so we were unaware of Miss Smith’s presence inside the coach until an hour ago, when it became rather cold and I had the coach stopped so that I could get my cloak. I discovered Miss Smith hiding amongst your trunks,Your Grace,’he concluded unhappily.
Hawk did indeed know of Dolton’s preference for sitting up with the coachman. His valet suffered from motion sickness if confined inside the coach for any length of time.
None of which altered the fact that Jane Smith should not be here.
At the inn.
Once again in his bedchamber.
‘You seem to be making a habit of this, Miss Smith.’ His tone was icy.
‘So