by Amelia Grey
Hawk was looking forward to a hearty meal, a stout wine, and an evening of interesting discussions with Miss Quick before he sought a warm bed.
He rounded the doorway and came to an abrupt halt when he saw Miss Quick standing in front of the fireplace. Flickering yellow and amber flames glowed behind her, giving her an almost ethereal appearance. His first thought was that she looked angelic.
His second was that he wanted to seduce her.
His third was that he’d best get his primal urges under control.
And fast.
She was the niece of an earl and not available for him to dally with no matter what desires his baser instincts were pressing upon him to engage in at the moment. He could enjoy her beauty, wit, and charm, but he couldn’t touch her.
She wore a buttery-colored gown that looked as soft and velvety as her beautiful skin. Long, sheer sleeves were trimmed at the cuffs with white fur. The neckline swept low, revealing the enticing, gentle swell of her breasts. A brilliantly cut ruby hung from a delicate strand of pearls that circled her neck, and a matching strand had been fitted at the crown of her silky upswept hair.
Had she been his mistress he would have forgotten all about the growl of hunger in his stomach and fed the raging appetite in his loins. He wanted to scoop her up in his arms and take her straight to his bedchamber.
“Miss Quick,” he said with a nod.
“Good evening, Your Grace,” she answered with an abbreviated curtsy. “I hope the suite of rooms Mrs. Huddleston showed you are acceptable.”
“Yes. Warm and comfortable.”
“I’m glad to hear that,” she answered and then walked over to stand by a chair.
Only then did Hawk notice the table. It was long. Very long and covered in a gleaming white cloth. An impressive six-pronged silver candlestand had been placed in the middle. Two single candlesticks flanked each side of the stand, adding their burning flames to the golden glow cast by the crackling fire and lighted wall sconces. There were ten chairs lining each side of the table. An attractive setting of china, silver, and crystal had been placed at each end.
If they were going to see each other, they would have to look around all the candles. And if they were to converse during dinner, apparently Miss Quick expected them to shout.
Hawk strode over to her and, pulling out the chair, said, “Allow me to assist you.”
“Thank you,” she answered, sounding quite pleased with herself as she took her seat.
The enticing scent of fresh-washed hair stirred the air beside him as she moved. It teased his senses. Watching her as she made herself comfortable, he had a great desire to reach down and kiss the back of her neck and let his lips skim along the crest of her bare shoulders. He wanted to snuggle his nose against the warm skin behind her ear and breathe in slowly. And though he knew it was futile thinking, he wanted to feel her tremble with passion in his arms.
Ah, he thought, she is simply too tempting for words.
He bent down close to the top of her head, but alas, not to indulge in his desired fantasy to kiss her but only to whisper, “You are lovely tonight, Miss Quick.”
She remained staring straight ahead but murmured another, softer “Thank you.”
Hawk pushed his thoughts away from his desires for Miss Quick once again and headed to the opposite end of the table, counting the chairs between them as he passed. Eleven. He’d missed one when he’d glanced at them a few moments ago. There might as well be a gulf of fire between the two of them.
At the table where he was to sit, he grabbed the back of his chair to pull it out but stopped. He looked at Miss Quick sitting so lovely, so serene, and so far away. It was impossible to ignore the barriers she’d erected between them.
To be or not to be a gentleman was the question she’d silently put before him. And it really wasn’t hard to answer. She obviously didn’t know he wasn’t one to back down from a challenge. What else could so many candles and silver be?
Hawk didn’t mind accommodating a clever young lady, but, he could only go so far in doing so. After all, he was a man. The opportunity to dine alone with a beautiful, innocent lady of quality might never come his way again.
And that was all it took for the man inside him to win out over the gentleman. Why change his wicked ways tonight?
He let go of the chair, reached down and scooped up the silver on both sides of the plate in one hand. With the other he gathered the napkin and wineglass and marched to the chair that was on Miss Quick’s right. She sat in stunned silence as he laid everything on the table in front of him, not as neatly as it had been, but it would do. He then went back and picked up the decanter of wine and the plate and carried them back to where he was preparing a place for himself.
After putting the items on the table, he noticed she had water in her goblet. “Do you drink wine, Miss Quick?”
“Sometimes. Usually only when Paxton is here.”
“Ah. I’ve heard it’s never a good idea to drink alone. Will you join me in a glass of wine tonight?”
“If you would like.”
He picked up her water, carried it over to the fireplace, and poured it in the edge of the fire. It sizzled and hissed. He then placed the glass back in front of her and poured a serving of wine into it and then into his own glass before taking his seat.
“That’s better,” he said with a satisfied smile, loving the surprised expression on her face. “You did say you don’t stand on ceremony when your brother isn’t home, didn’t you?”
Though he felt sure she hoped to hide it, he saw a measure of admiration in her eyes for his brashness. And that pleased him, too.
“Yes. And by all means, Your Grace, sit wherever you like.”
Her voice was calm, her countenance relaxed. She was letting him know he might have won the skirmish, but she wasn’t conceding the battle. Good. He was looking forward to more clashes between them before the evening was over.
He nodded once. “May I offer a toast?”
“Of course.” She picked up her wine.
“To your brother and my sister and a long happy life for each of them.” He waited until she had the glass to her lips and then added, “Together.”
Miss Quick coughed as she swallowed. Her brows furrowed. “That wasn’t fair of you,” she said and put down her glass.
“We are in a war on opposite sides. It was strategic.”
“It was underhanded.”
“Perhaps it was sly.”
“No matter the term you or I attach to it, I wouldn’t toast to my brother and your sister together when they’ve never even met.”
By the tone of her voice he knew she wasn’t angry with him or even upset. She was simply taking him to task for doing something she didn’t like, and that made her divinely appealing.
“You don’t like to give an inch, do you, Miss Quick?”
She rearranged the napkin in her lap and then looked at him with her blue eyes and said, “I could easily say the same about you. Apparently you don’t, either.”
“Ah, but with me it is expected, is it not? I’ve always found that young ladies are usually more cooperative than men—yet you are tenacious to a fault.”
Her gaze stayed on his. He saw that earlier, attractive strength return to her countenance. “Perhaps you didn’t notice when we spoke this afternoon, Your Grace, but…” She paused, and her hint of a smile was confident. “I’m not known for being agreeable just to placate someone—not even an earl or a duke.”
“Oh, I noticed, and you know I did, but thank you for attempting to give me the benefit of doubt. It was more than I deserved.”
“And not for the first time,” she murmured under her breath and then said more plainly, “Tell me, did you find everything you needed to care for your horse?”
“Yes. Including a blanket, which will be needed tonight. The stable is large and well stocked for only four horses.”
“I know, it’s a shame that much of it goes unused. There was a time
many horses were stabled here. Years ago, when the house was built by the first Earl of Switchingham. I’m told Mammoth House was a rather grand hunting lodge. The earl, along with family and friends, used to spend the winters here. They held grand house parties that are still talked about in the village.”
Hawk settled against the back of his chair and sipped the wine again. He’d never made it back to the drawing room for the brandy she’d poured, and the wine was soothing. This is what he wanted from the night. A warm room, a glass of wine, and a strong, delightful, and intelligent lady to share it all with him.
“Does your uncle stay here and hunt?”
“No. I’m told there used to be a dense forest not too far north of here, but a great fire destroyed it close to twenty years ago. As unbelievable as it seems, there had been little rain for several weeks before the fire. Apparently the devastation was quite thorough, and regrowth has been slow.”
The housekeeper entered the dining room and placed a plate of steaming food in front of him. The aroma of sweet honey mixed with smoked ham drifted up and made Hawk’s mouth water. A mound of scrambled eggs and a serving of boiled potatoes were also on the plate. Miss Quick was served the same but with noticeably smaller portions.
“There are sporadic stands of scrub trees and brush,” Miss Quick continued as Mrs. Huddleston left the dining room, “but unfortunately the forest hasn’t returned to its former flourish yet. I’m assuming that’s the reason the house is no longer used as a hunting lodge.”
“And how long have you lived in Mammoth House?”
“Over two years,” she answered, picking up her knife and fork.
“How often do you go to the village?”
“I don’t.” She motioned to his food. “Please enjoy your meal while it’s hot.”
Hawk put his glass down and picked up his silver. “What about London? Do you go there to visit family or friends?”
“No.” She swallowed another bite and then said, “I am always invited to go to my uncle’s house for Christmas dinner.”
It was intriguing that she seldom traveled anywhere, and he wanted to know why. The real reason why.
The ham was salty, sweet, and delicious. He enjoyed his food for a few moments and thought on what she’d said before asking, “Yet your brother leaves Mammoth House often.”
She quirked her head toward him as she lifted a forkful of eggs. “How do you know?”
“I see him in London.”
“Oh, I’m sorry. Yes, of course, you would know.” She laughed softly. “I should have assumed that. Paxton enjoys being with people. The solitude here doesn’t agree with him as easily as it does me.”
Hawk took a sip of the wine and watched her laugh at herself before returning to her food. He liked that her mistake hadn’t flustered her. He liked seeing merriment sparkle in her eyes and light up her face.
“Does it agree with you or do you simply manage it better than your brother?”
“Either way, Your Grace,” she said without looking up from her food. “This is where I live. I still have friends in London and we correspond regularly so I’m not completely cut off from the outside world.”
There was such finality in her voice it gave him pause. He watched her cut a small piece of ham. She wasn’t asking for sympathy or even understanding. Just stating the facts of her life.
“How frequently does the earl come for a visit?”
She swallowed. “Seldom.”
“You are a master at giving short answers, Miss Quick.”
“It is all your questions require.”
He grinned at her cheeky answer, and so did she before continuing, “But I must admit that you have asked a lot of questions tonight.”
“It’s the best way to learn what you want to know.”
“You must have an inquisitive mind.” She put a piece of potato in her quite attractive mouth. Hawk wanted to reach over and kiss those pretty closed lips of hers, but knew the recklessness of that line of thinking and dug into the mound of eggs on his plate instead.
After eating a few more bites, he said, “I do. How often is seldom?”
“That my uncle visits?”
He nodded.
“Twice a year. Usually spring and fall. I assume he considers it his duty as my guardian to check on me from time to time. Maybe he simply wants to make sure I’m still here, or it could be that traveling is harder on him than it used to be. He doesn’t get around as well as he did in his younger years. Stairs are particularly challenging for him. Even getting in and out of a carriage.” She glanced at Hawk and added, “Is that answer long enough for you?”
There was a twinkle of mischief in her eyes, and Hawk chuckled. “Much better.”
“Good.”
“Why do you live here, Miss Quick?”
“It is my uncle’s wish,” she answered before laying her knife and fork aside and picking up her glass.
He smiled at her guileless answer. “Punishment?” he asked.
She lifted her gaze to his as she sipped the wine. He could see that she was contemplating her answer. Did she want to tell him the truth, a lie, or simply to mind his own business? He waited and gave her the time she needed to decide.
At last she said, “Perhaps some would think that.”
“But you don’t?”
“I have no use for self-pity, Your Grace. It festers and destroys. That said, I am resigned to the fact that I have no one to blame or to thank for the life I live other than myself.”
Her face was somber, her words so honest, so quietly spoken that his heart lurched from the impact of their meaning. “Does your brother believe that?”
“I suppose you will have to ask Paxton when you tell him that you want him to marry your sister so she won’t have to go out into Society and look for a husband herself among the rakes, scoundrels, and rapscallions. You know—” She gave him a rueful smile. “The kind of men who send gentle-bred young ladies anonymous letters and ask them to meet a secret admirer—that doesn’t exist.”
She was devilishly brave.
“I can’t deny I once did that,” he admitted. “Nor do I deny that I want to help my sister avoid men who can be as foolish as I was a few years ago.”
“Was?” She lifted an arched brow as if in protest of his comment. “So you have mended your wicked ways?”
“To some extent.” He laid his knife and fork on the empty plate. “I do try to behave myself around young ladies as much as possible, and I haven’t written much of anything other than my signature since that note. I have my solicitor do it.”
Miss Quick huffed a playful laugh. “Self-imposed punishment for yourself? I find that highly amusing.”
“Maybe a measure of atonement as well, in order to spare others my regrettable ways. I suppose there would never be enough recompense for the writers of the scandal sheets.”
“Nor perhaps the embarrassed belles who were left with only tainted reputations and the realization that no one was admiring them after all.”
Hawk rubbed his thumb on the bottom of his wineglass. He’d come to expect that she wouldn’t temper her words to spare him any ridicule or shame for what he’d already admitted was a mistake.
“It wasn’t meant to be cruel to the young ladies. It wasn’t even meant as a joke. It was a wager among friends that no one else was to ever know about. Our folly was that we were only thinking of ourselves and our own desire to win the wager.”
“And now someone may want to endanger your sister’s reputation in like kind in order to take revenge upon you for endangering the reputations of other young ladies.”
“Though you might live far from the streets of London, I see you are up on the latest gossip.”
“Mr. Huddleston always picks up copies of the all the latest newssheets when he’s in Grimsfield each week. And I always read Miss Honora Truth’s Weekly Scandal Sheet.”
“You and the rest of the world,” he grumbled.
“She’s entertaining with
her words. How much of the gossip she writes is true?” Miss Quick asked.
Probably far more than he was willing to admit.
“I don’t know. That’s the problem and why I make no apologies for what I’m doing to spare my sister. The same gossip that swirled around the Duke of Griffin’s sisters last year is surfacing again now that Adele is making her debut. She could be in danger from someone wanting to ruin her chance at making a good match or simply playing her for a fool in the hope of breaking her heart just to get even with me for the secret admirer letters. As I told you, if she is already betrothed, no one will have reason to pursue her, and thereby I will keep her from being set upon by mischief-makers.”
“And in order to keep this retaliation from happening, you want to completely alter my brother’s life to save your sister because of something you did.”
She wasn’t teasing him when she said she liked to go straight to the heart of a matter. She knew how to put everything on the line. Hawk leaned forward, closer to her, but not in a threatening way, and said, “Because he would be a good match for Adele and she for him. Remember, I know them both.”
Leaning back in her chair, she sipped her wine and then asked, “Why did you and your friends decide to wager on something as delicate as a young lady’s heart?”
“You do like to thrust the knife in deep, Miss Quick.”
“I am only stating the truth, am I not? I have nothing to lose by being honest with you. I am not seeking your favor or trying to impress you.”
“Perhaps I wish you were. However, you can’t make sense of what we did because you couldn’t possibly understand the thoughts of a young man and his ego, especially one whose mind was befuddled by drink and arrogance and no fear whatsoever.”
“That’s probably true.”
“We now know we shouldn’t have done it—for a number of reasons, including the very real fact that not a one of us thought about our sisters and that they would grow up to be young ladies one day.”
“That must have been sobering when you finally did.”
Hawk grimaced. “It was never our intention to cause anyone harm. It was supposed to just be a simple wager among friends.”
