The Passionate Love of a Rake. Jane Lark

self-control.

      “Your Grace?” Violet’s ever attentive and highly skilled lady’s maid stepped forward.

      “Gail, please check my hair. I lost a pin or two I think.”

      “Sit here, Your Grace. No need to worry, it is easily fixed.”

      No need to worry? Jane had not hidden her distress as well as she’d thought then. In the mirror, she saw her skin was excessively pale, and her eyes were bright and still dilated with shock. The maid unwound the curls then reset and re-pinned them.

      “Did you see the Earl of Barrington?” the woman next to Jane whispered to her friend. “He’s such a stallion. I heard Verity took him to her bed. I wish he would ask me.”

      The woman’s friend laughed and her fair skin coloured. She flicked open her fan and wafted air across her face. “Last summer, he made me an offer at Vauxhall. Unfortunately, before I could agree, my Charles arrived to drag me away. Even I would consider adultery for a man like that.”

      “He has every woman dangling from his hook,” the third woman chimed up across the room, “with his insufferable refusal to let any affair stretch beyond a single night. He is playing with us. It is his little game. He knows he entices us all to win him for more. He sets us one against another, challenging us to break his nomadic ways. Barrington is a wicked taunt, and yet, such a handsome and skilled one none of us can refuse.”

      Another round of laughter, then the women began to rise, preparing to return to the ball.

      “That will do, Gail,” Jane dismissed the maid, rising too, eager to accompany the women rather than walk alone. “Thank you,” she said in apology for her haste to the maid’s lowered head as the woman bobbed a curtsy. Then Jane turned and followed the other women from the room, two steps behind.

      “I know if I had captured his attention, I would not have lost it for the world, and your Charles would do nothing even if you succumbed to Lord Barrington’s attentions. All the men are afraid of him. Rumour has it he killed someone,” the first woman confided to her friend, with a tap of her fan on her companion’s arm.

      The third woman leaned closer, whispering conspiratorially, “I heard he currently favours Lady Baxter. He has been following her for nights.”

      At the foot of the stairs, Jane left their trail to re-enter the ballroom via the route she’d used to leave it. A few moments later, she was weaving through the crush and glancing about, looking for Violet. When Jane reached the front of the crowd, her eyes scanned the dancers and the people at the edge watching. She did not spot Violet. Instead, her gaze struck the tall man who she’d sought to avoid before confronting Joshua. He leaned forward to speak into the ear of his partner, and his hair fell across his brow. The action was so familiar.

      Robert.

      Yet the hungry look he bestowed on the slim blonde as his head rose was foreign. His hand slipped from her waist to discreetly brush the curve of her breast.

      He was so familiar, and yet, in other ways, it was like looking at a stranger.

      “You set your mark high, Jane, if you aim for the Earl of Barrington as your first conquest.”

      Jane’s cheeks heated with embarrassment as she spun about and faced Violet.

      “I was not … ” Jane began then realised her denial probably made her appear guilty and halted. “I was looking for you.”

      “While enjoying the view?” Violet’s eyebrows lifted as she laughed.

      Despite their friendship, Jane had not shared her current, or former, woes. She did not wish to burden Violet with her problems. No one in the ton was aware of the history between the Dowager Duchess of Sutton and the Earl of Barrington, and it was far better left that way. What little had passed between them had been long ago, and only Robert’s younger brother was left to comment on their friendship. Their parents were long deceased, and Edward, Robert’s brother, had known nothing of their short affair.

      “Jane, I have never seen you look so intently at a man before,” Violet said, her eyes turning to Robert. “But heavens, do not look now, for I think the feeling is mutual.”

      Instinctively, Jane’s gaze swung back and met his. It was locked on her, reaching through the scores of dancers, capturing her in a steady observation which seemed to question her existence.

      “I said, do not look,” Violet whispered in Jane’s ear as Jane found herself transfixed.

      He was so astonishingly handsome. It was in the strong line of his jaw, the curve of his brow and his nose. He made her knees feel weak just as he’d done when she was younger. At fifteen, she’d followed him as though he was the sun to her flowering womanhood, but she had not realised his full potential then. Now, it was blatant.

      She could not tell what he thought of her. There was no hint of emotion in the dark eyes holding hers. His face was blank and unsmiling, yet his gaze did not leave hers as he followed the steps of the dance, crossing with his partner.

      “My, my,” Violet whispered. “There is quite a spark between the two of you, isn’t there?”

      Jane tore her gaze away and looked at Violet. “Do not be ridiculous. He is merely staring because I am the only woman in the room wearing black. He probably thinks me improper.”

      “The Earl of Barrington?” A short bark of laughter left Violet’s throat. “He is not shockable. He is scandalous. A titled gentleman can get away with murder, and he often does.” Violet’s brows lifted again, and Jane understood the implication. After all, she had read the frequent rumours of illicit affairs and forbidden duels which constantly surrounded him.

      Remembering Joshua’s earlier threat though, the thought of a gentleman being beyond the law was no comfort.

      With his usual skill for timely appearance, she saw Joshua in the crowd behind Violet. He stood in the corner, arms folded over his chest, observing Jane with a scowl.

      Wicked, indecent ideas began forming in Jane’s head. Joshua would hate it if she took a rake like Robert to her bed, and she would so love to rub it in Joshua’s face and prove his threats could not restrain her.

      “Please, tell me you are not contemplating it?” Violet whispered, her voice dropping to a shocked tone. “I know he is rumoured to be quite brilliant in bed, but he is not a man to toy with. He has a reputation for being callous. I prefer a man who will at least pretend to pamper me a little, like Sparks. Your Earl goes out with an aim for seduction, takes what he wishes and walks away.”

      “He is hardly my Earl, Violet. All I have done is look at him, and all he has done is look at me.”

      Jane glanced back at the dancers and found the man in question still looking.

      He was watching her intently with complete disregard for his dancing partner who, a moment before, had held all his attention. His actions certainly bore out Violet’s words.

      Yet the Robert of old had been a kind and tender-hearted youth. Surely he could not be so changed? If she were to take up with anyone, Robert would be her obvious choice. Despite Violet’s warning, Jane still felt she could trust him. But his fixed stare was predatory. It stole her breath away and sent her heart kicking into a sharp beat.

      “I think he is more than looking, Jane. He is busy eyeing up his next course. And you, my dear, should armour yourself, for if I am not mistaken, that man shall soon be on the prowl and at your door.”

      Violet’s words should have scared Jane, but instead, she felt an unfamiliar stir of excitement and expectation.

      “Come, I am of a mind to save you. Let us seek a glass of punch.”

      Jane complied with Violet’s proposal, but as Jane turned away, she took one last look across her shoulder and faced that powerful gaze again. His eyes followed her movement like a hunting wolf.

      She turned away, a