“What are you doing in here?” he snapped.
Jewel gasped at his abrupt tone. Of course she was snooping, but she couldn’t tell him that. He had taken her by surprise, for she’d never seen a man who . . . who was so much a man. The man before her stood ... tall ... powerful. He took her breath away.
So he was the magnificent lord of the manor, the one she half-dreaded, half-anticipated seeing, and he was making it plain he didn’t approve of her. Jewel couldn’t fathom why he was so upset. Evidently, he had a very low opinion of her if he thought she would stoop to thievery.
“I’m sorry I’ve been so much trouble to you and Annie. I thought to make up for it by dusting that thing”—she pointed behind her—“you call a desk. For your information, I was not prying.” She looked to heaven and asked for forgiveness. “I’ve no reason to,” she stated as she gazed straight into his dark eyes. What had happened to the softness she’d seen there only moments ago? His eyes had now turned to pitch black. Just like the portrait over the mantel. The one she’d assumed was his portrait.
“Is that your father?” She nodded at the picture above the fireplace. She could see the simple question threw Adam completely off guard, and again his expression changed.
“My grandfather,” he answered abruptly. “Who has nothing to do with this conversation.” His eyes traveled over her, taking in every inch of her appearance. “No wonder I thought you to be a lad—look at the way you’re dressed, in a blousy cotton shirt and black breeches. Men’s garb, to be precise!” He threw her an irritated scowl.
“Perhaps not.” She shrugged. “But I saw the painting earlier and wondered. You do look a lot like him, you know,” she finished lamely.
Jewel stared into his dark, brooding eyes and took note of his strong chin. She remembered all of Annie’s warnings as they tumbled through her mind. “The roar of the lion himself. He hates havin’ anyone in his study. He’ll be havin’ me head.” Then, completely without warning, Jewel swayed, all the excitement having drained her strength. Luckily, a pair of strong arms caught her just before she hit the floor, and carried her over to the settee and sat her down.
“You shouldn’t be out of bed so soon. I’ll have Annie’s hide for this,” Adam growled.
“No, don’t!” Jewel laid a hand on his forearm, feeling his tense muscles beneath her fingertips. “It’s all my fault,” she admitted. “The doctor said I could get up, and I persuaded Annie to let me come downstairs. I—I’ve just overdone it a little. I’ll be fine, really.” A strange shiver of delight hammered through her. She found his presence a little overwhelming.
The chestnut riding jacket the duke wore fit snug across his broad shoulders, and his handsome face was deeply tanned. He radiated an aura of power that intrigued and drew her. Even though she sensed Adam could be very dangerous.
But for now he touched her almost tenderly. Concern softened the harshness in his eyes, and she wondered if she’d really get to know him before she left.
“Who are you?” His words broke into her thoughts, making her jump.
She wished she could answer that question. She wasn’t sure what he would do when he found out she didn’t know. Would he turn her over to the authorities?
“I do not know,” she finally said softly.
Surprised, Adam raised one black eyebrow. “What do you mean . . . you don’t know?”
“I cannot remember anything but my first name.” She paused. “The doctor said in time my memory will be restored. I’m sorry I’ve been so much trouble.”
Adam realized he was staring at her slightly parted lips, wondering how they would taste. Then he remembered his previous nights in London where Jewel had plagued his dreams. She wasn’t like the sophisticated ladies with whom he usually kept company. She looked more like a child than a woman. She was so small. Yet he could see signs of a radiant beauty—once she regained some of the weight she’d lost—and he itched to reach out and touch her short hair.
Knowing where his thoughts would lead, he turned his attention back to Jewel’s outlandish tale. “You’ve not been any trouble. I just wish the devil I knew where you came from and what brought you to my doorstep, but I guess that will have to wait. Let’s get one thing straight from the start. You do not earn your keep by working in my house. You’re to be a guest in my home until we can find out where you belong. I trust I’ve made myself perfectly clear on that point.”
The tone of his voice hinted he wasn’t accustomed to repeating himself or having his instructions questioned. Perhaps she should humor him and be a little obedient. But some inner tingling told her that obedience wasn’t a part of her personality.
A mischievous light stirred deep within her, and she gave him a small smile. “Yes, I understand. But you must also understand, I need something to do, unless you would like me to die from boredom.”
Adam smiled, and she held her breath. His chiseled jaw relaxed and his eyes sparkled, taking away his stem expression. Why did she sense smiling was something he rarely did?
“I guess I should go back to my room,” she said. “I promised Annie I wouldn’t overdo.” Jewel stood to leave, but instead of making a graceful exit, her foot slipped on the rug, and she fell right back into Adam’s lap. Uncle Jean had told her she would outgrow her clumsiness one day . . . she was still waiting. Her eyes widened as the snippet of memory flashed through her mind. Was this something? Perhaps a beginning to who she really was.
“Well, now.” Adam chuckled. “If you wanted me to carry you, you had only to ask.” He looked down at her, his lips mere inches from hers.
Jewel’s cheeks grew warm from Adam’s bold stare. Had anyone ever looked at her the way he did? Could he tell how fast her heart hammered or how many butterflies fluttered in her stomach? His arms felt like steel around her, and a strong tide of emotions flowed through her. She was surprised when he hadn’t removed his arm from around her.
“I—I think I can walk.” But as she took a step, her knees trembled so badly from the duke’s closeness that she had to clutch his sleeve.
It was the only invitation Adam needed. He swept Jewel up into his arms and carried her to her bedroom before reluctantly setting her back on her feet. The desire to kiss her became overpowering. What a natural temptress, he thought. And again he questioned his reaction to her. Normally, he could distance himself, but this one—confused and bewitched were feelings he didn’t care for.
“You’ll not have to wear men’s clothing again,” he said in a firm voice.
“But these clothes are fine,” Jewel argued, sweeping her hands over her attire. “We couldn’t find anything else that I could wear, and Annie told me you had burned my clothing.”
“If you’ll let me finish,” Adam said patiently. “I bought a few things for you while I was in London. I hope they fit.”
“But . . .” Jewel started to protest further. Then she noticed the boxes stacked in the comer of her room. There were at least thirty. He had bought her all that? “How did you know my size? You really shouldn’t have ... I don’t even know you . . . why did you buy so many?” Overwhelmed by surprise, she was astonished that he’d been thinking of her while he’d been gone.
He looked suddenly as if he considered a very grave matter. “So far I’ve found you to be clumsy, you have a temper, and you talk excessively when excited. We’ll have to work on that problem before you drive me daft.” He smiled this time.
“A deep breath will be required to answer all your questions, my dear. First, I told the dressmaker you were about the size of my sister, maybe a little shorter. Since the seamstress has sewn for my sister before, she already had her measurements. Second, I thought it better that you be clothed.” His lips curved into a smile as he thought, Better for me. “Third, you’re right. I don’t know you, but we are getting ready to correct that. I’ll have Annie bring dinner up here tonight, and we’ll dine together. Now, does that answer all your questions?”
She gave him a slight nod. “Thank yo
u, but you shouldn’t have spent so much.” Yet she found it pleased her that he had been so thoughtful.
“Don’t worry about money, my dear. I think I can afford a few gowns. Besides, my sister can always wear them if you cannot. Now, if you’ll excuse me.” He turned and started for the door. “I’d like to wash up before we dine. The trip from London was very dusty. I’ll send Annie up in a minute.”
Jewel frowned. His sister could wear them? And she’d thought he had been thinking of her when he’d bought the clothes. He was only being practical. She sighed, pushing aside her disappointment. What did it matter what he thought? Except, she admitted, he wasn’t the old gentleman she had first imagined. Quite the contrary. He was very good-looking, and probably half the women in London were in love with him. She’d best make sure she didn’t fall under his spell.
Jewel hadn’t realized how tired she’d been. A bath was just what she needed. Waiting patiently for the servants to fill the tub, she found herself looking forward to dinner tonight and excited at the prospect of learning more about the mysterious man she’d just met.
After she bathed, Annie spread a clean sheet on the bed and instructed her to lie down so she could attend her. Taking a few drops of sweet-smelling almond oil, Annie massaged the streaks that ran lengthwise down Jewel’s back, to ease the tightness.
“What would ye like to be wearin’ tonight? Adam has bought ye some beautiful things.” Annie wiped her hands on a towel.
Jewel rolled over, pulling the sheet around her. “I haven’t had a chance to look at anything yet,” she confessed. “Pick something soft. I’m still a little tender.”
Annie sifted through the many boxes until she found a soft dress and held it up for Jewel’s approval. The white silk gown had tiny roses on the neckline and appeared to have a loose fit with gathers under the bust. Tiny pink ribbons flowed down the back.
“’Tis perfect!” Annie smiled.
Jewel touched the silky material and thought it would feel cool on her skin, so she nodded her approval. Annie helped her slide the gown over her head, and Jewel found the garment to be a flawless fit, just as His Grace had said.
She swirled around for Annie to see, marveling at the way the material caressed her skin. “What do you think?”
“Ye be lookin’ pretty, lass. Ye won’t even be needin’ lip color, like most women do. When yer hair grows out ye’ll look just like a princess.”
“My hair is ugly, isn’t it?” Jewel reached up and touched the short hair that fell just below her ears, then glanced back to the mirror with a frown. “What can I do with it?” “Why, to be sure, we can do somethin’.” Annie brushed Jewel’s black hair until it shone. She applied water on the gleaming tresses, feathering them around Jewel’s face to give her a bewitching look. “Do ye like that?” Annie asked.
“It’s a big improvement.” Jewel could see Annie was pleased with her creation, and Jewel had to admit her hair did look better. She felt like a real lady. Hearing the knob of the door rattle, she turned to stare.
Unannounced, the door swung open.
Chapter Six
Jewel’s breath caught in her throat.
Casually leaning against the door frame, the duke filled the entrance with his broad shoulders and rugged handsomeness. A pulse throbbed in his neck where dark skin contrasted against cream-colored linen. She found it impossible to tear her gaze from him.
As he pushed away from the door, she couldn’t help noticing how his breeches clung to his muscular thighs. His manner was one of supreme confidence, yet there was something about him that was untamed and savage. Somehow Jewel knew she’d never met anyone like him before.
He moved toward her. His gaze traveled over every inch of her body. She felt shy and unsure of herself, and she prayed her nervousness would go away before dinner was served.
“Are you ready to dine, Jewel?”
His textured, masculine voice sent shivers down her spine. “Yes. I find I’ve quite an appetite tonight.”
“Excellent.” Adam nodded to Annie, acknowledging her presence. “Can we have dinner served now?”
“Yes, Your Grace.”
He offered his arm. When Jewel placed her hand on his sleeve, her fingers trembled. After he escorted her to the small, round table that had been set up earlier in her bedroom, he placed a soft pillow behind her back so she would be comfortable. What a contradiction His Lordship could be.
One minute he was hard and disapproving, and the next he was concerned with her comfort. Some deep intuition told her there was more to this man than he let people see.
Adam poured a glass of his finest wine, and watched as the rich, burgundy liquid touched her lips. He still couldn’t believe she’d survived. He felt as if he’d breathed life back into her body, willing her to live. No matter who she was or what she had done, Jewel would have his protection until she recovered her memory. She took another sip. “How do you like the wine?” he asked.
She nodded her approval. “It’s very good and has a rich flavor. I like wine, but I’ve always preferred rum.” She gasped. “Wait ... I remembered. Your Grace, I remembered! I like a drink called rum.”
“That is a good sign, and a mighty strong drink for a lady. Maybe it will not take long for your memory to return.” Propping his arm on the table, he leaned forward. “Interesting you should mention rum. It’s hard to get here in England. However, I have tasted this drink in Louisiana and purchased a bottle in the Jamaican Islands,” he said thoughtfully. “Our cook, Marie, makes a very tasty bun. I enjoy using rum.” Adam stared at his visitor as he sampled his own glass of port. Could it be possible that Jewel wasn’t from England? And if not England, then where? He noted that her face was still thin from her recent fever, but he intended to restore her good health with plenty of food.
Their conversation stopped briefly when the servants filed into the room laden with silver serving platters, steaming with rich aromas. They lifted the lids to reveal rare roast beef nestled in a bed of small boiled potatoes.
Jewel felt wonderful after the delicious feast and three glasses of wine. Having enjoyed the meal so much, she now realized that she’d finished eating and had talked very little. Adam must think her rude. Then again, why should she care what he thought? But she found she did care. Taking another sip of wine, she looked from beneath her lashes to find
Adam watching her. His dark brows were drawn together, and his eyes were full of questions she couldn’t answer. Again, she found herself wondering why he would bother with her.
“You’ve quite an appetite, young lady. Most women I’ve known pick at their food and don’t do the cook justice.” Jewel laughed huskily. “I guess I do have a good appetite. I’m sure it isn’t very lady-like, but you have a superb cook, and the meal was simply wonderful!”
“I’m glad you enjoyed the roast.” Adam smiled. “Your accent sounds French. Do you perhaps speak the language?” Jewel shrugged her shoulders. “I don’t know.”
“Vous avez les plus beaux yeux brune, Mademoiselle." Jewel felt the heat of her blush. She had understood every word. He had told her she had beautiful brown eyes. "Merci, Monsieur. Je parle francais."
“Well, now there’s another clue in figuring out who you are. We’ll have your memory back in no time. Until then, remember you’re to be my guest.” Adam wasn’t sure he was doing the right thing, but for some strange reason he couldn’t send her away, at least not yet. And he had no earthly idea why he felt as he did other than that he liked her.
“Thank you.” Touched by his thoughtfulness, she reached across the table and laid her small hand on his. She was a perfect stranger to him, yet he wasn’t throwing her out.
The mere touch of his warm skin under her fingertips produced a tingling she was unprepared for. Gasping, she withdrew her hand and tried to cover her uneasiness. “T-tell me something about your family,” she stammered.
Adam’s eyes met hers, and he knew she’d felt the same exhilaration. It would be easy to lose h
imself in the depths of her brown eyes. They reflected her innermost thoughts and could prove useful as a mirror into her soul. Realizing she felt the same was of little comfort. He had no time for a woman. He also needed something stronger than wine, and reached for the brandy decanter, pouring a liberal portion into the glass. He wasn’t accustomed to talking about himself, but telling her a little couldn’t hurt.
“I don’t know where to begin,” he admitted. “I was raised here in Cornwall, but left when I was eighteen. You know how young men like to sow their oats.” He chuckled, for he’d definitely done just that. “I’ve sailed all over the world and found the place I loved most was America. I’ve a twin sister who lives just outside New Orleans, Louisiana.”
He relaxed as he continued to speak of his American home. “My plantation, Four Oaks, is surrounded by moss-covered trees and four very large oak trees. It’s a comfortable place, and most certainly doesn’t have the formality of England.”
“But you’re English! Does not your loyalty lie with England?”
“I’m only half English. My mother was an American.”
“This isn’t your home?” Jewel asked. “After all, you are a duke.”
“In a way, yes. I am the Duke of St. Ives by birth, but this was my grandfather’s and my father’s home. I’m here now because of my grandfather’s death and to get the estate running smoothly. Then I’ll hire someone to oversee Briercliff before returning to Four Oaks.”
An odd flutter of panic stirred in her stomach at the thought of his leaving. She’d never felt so thoroughly confused. “You’ll be going home before long? Will you book passage on a ship?”
“You’ve a strange habit of asking double questions, sweetheart.” He winked at her in a teasing mood. “I have my own ship. As a matter of fact, I have three—this one is called Wind Jammer. She’s a clipper, and I daresay there’s not another quicker.”
Jewel saw an excitement enter his eyes as he spoke of his vessel. It was easy for her to picture him standing at the helm, the wind blowing his hair, and for a fleeting moment another face flashed before her, but it was so brief she couldn’t catch the image. Thank God this image wasn’t as scary as the other images.
The Duke's Lady (Historical Romance - The Ladies Series) Page 5
