The Passionate Love of a Rake. Jane Lark

      Coleford pointed him in the direction of the garden, and Robert excused himself.

      His heart kicked into a quicker beat as he stepped through the French door and felt a cool evening breeze.

      He saw Lady Rimes immediately. She was strolling with Sparks along a path leading away from the house, but Jane was not with them.

      Robert crossed the lawn in long, swift strides, a carefree feeling reminiscent of his youth rising inside him. He called out as he neared them, “Sparks!”

      The couple stopped and both looked back. Sparks gave Robert a slanting smile and turned fully, while Lady Rimes merely glared.

      “I did not expect to see you here, Robert?” Sparks stated.

      Robert’s feet were firmly rooted to the spot. He could not find any words to ask them about Jane without being bloody obvious. “I thought … ” He stopped. Lord in heaven, he felt like he had at nineteen when he’d first expressed his feelings to Jane. It was idiotic. The only thing to do was just ask. It was hardly out of character for him to chase a woman. “Where is the Dowager Duchess of Sutton? I’d presumed she would be in your company, Lady Rimes.” He gave her a swift, brief bow, then cast her one of his most charming smiles.

      She waved a hand at him in a dismissive gesture. “You need not seek to win me over, Barrington. She shall not heed my opinion, and besides, she is not here. She is not feeling well.”

      Confused, Robert merely stared.

      “She has the headache, my Lord,” Lady Rimes clarified. “Perhaps because you have been hounding her. You take advantage then flaunt yourself with another woman. Her Grace is … ” She stopped, offering him a flint-like stare which clearly judged and weighed him worthless. But then her voice dropped to a confidential tone, “She is not one of us, my Lord.” Her slim eyebrows lifted in arch punctuation of her words. “Do not toy with her. She is no flirt, Barrington, and she does not have the resources to fend off men like you. If you have any honour left in your soul, you will leave her be.”

      Her head spun to look up at Sparks. “Forgive me, my Lord. I find the company not to my liking. You may seek me in the card room later.” With that and a swish of lemon silk, the woman was gone.

      Robert looked at Sparks. “I take it Lady Rimes does not like me overmuch.”

      “Not if you upset her friend,” Sparks answered then held out his hand. “Good evening, Robert. Do you want to get a drink?”

      Robert nodded as they shook hands, then he fell into step beside Geoff, and together, they walked back across the lawn.

      “She’s right though.”

      “What?” Robert queried, his gaze drifting across the various couples spread about the lawn enjoying the first lukewarm night of the season.

      “Violet is right about the Dowager Duchess of Sutton. She is not your usual sort. I would back off if I were you.”

      Robert stopped, and Sparks stopped too, his eyes turning to Robert.

      “Has she been speaking of me? What has she said?”

      Sparks laughed.

      “What?” Robert felt suddenly irritated.

      “Calm down, old friend.” Sparks’s hand lay on Robert’s shoulder. “It is just she asked the same of you, in a roundabout way, and no, she has not spoken. Your little widow is a very private person from what I have seen. I doubt she would even share her secrets with Vi. But both Violet and I know because we saw you bring her home.”

      Robert felt heat rise on his skin. Why should he feel remorseful? She was not a sixteen-year-old virgin with a reputation to lose any more. She was a widow with a life of her own, and, no doubt, a list of lovers in her past. She had been married to a man older than her grandfather, for God’s sake.

      Still, he felt the need to preserve her reputation. “Then you will also know nothing untoward occurred. If it had, she would have been home at dawn.” Robert answered Sparks’s knowing gaze with a look that said “you’re wrong.”

      “As you say, Robert, but the warning stands. She’s vulnerable. If I were you, I would leave her alone.”

      Robert smirked. He did not like being told what to do, and no matter how much he liked Sparks, Robert was not about to be warned off the only woman he’d ever considered his. “No.” Answering in one syllable, he moved to turn away. Sparks caught his arm.

      “Robert, think about it and take care.” Robert yanked his arm free. “I mean of her,” the man said to Robert’s back.

      ~

      Jane weaved through the people promenading along Oxford Street and glanced back at Violet’s footman following two paces behind her. He carried a bonnet she’d bought, in a box, and the ribbons and lace she’d purchased as a gift for Violet.

      Jane had come out to clear her head, having spent hours thinking about how to beat Joshua and receiving no God-given inspiration. But now her head was aching again as the afternoon crush of shoppers hindered her path.

      Ahead of her, a curricle slowed in the road. It caught her eye because the movement was odd. Glancing up, she was greeted by the sight of her stepson.

      How on earth had he found her?

      Preparing to climb down, Joshua handed his reins to a groom clothed in yellow and brown striped livery.

      Jane immediately turned and began forcing her way back against the tide of shoppers.

      “Your Grace!” the footman called as she pressed on in a sudden panic, twisting and turning between the passers-by, leaving him behind.

      She was in no mood to face one of Joshua’s scenes in such a public place.

      “Your Grace!” Violet’s footman called again.

      Jane glanced back and saw Joshua had not dismounted after all. His curricle was creeping along a little behind her, his horses following her at a walk while he watched her.

      She would not outrun him in the crush of people. He would keep his pace beside her no matter what she did. As usual, he had the advantage.

      She pressed on, weaving through the human traffic, and sifted through her options. She was not far from Violet’s. As she approached the junction to Bond Street, she considered turning there, but the crowd was currently protecting her. If she did so, she would lose that protection. She did not turn.

      When she reached the curb, a road-sweep boy stepped down to brush a fresh path for her and two gentlemen who walked behind her.

      The boy held out his grubby hand.

      Jane reached into her reticule for a coin and heard another deep voice hail her from along the road.

      “Your Grace!” A voice she recognised with an instinctive lift of her heart, even though she knew it came at the worst moment.

       Oh heavens, could this get any more complicated?

      Dropping a two-penny piece into the road-sweep’s dirty palm, she glanced up.

      Robert sat on his high perch phaeton, pulled by a magnificent pair of blacks, approaching the junction she’d crossed. He was smiling, and he lifted his hand.

      She turned away, refusing to acknowledge him while Joshua was watching. She just caught Robert’s expression slip into a confused grimace.

      There was a bookshop a little further along; holding her breath, she headed for it.

      When she glanced back, she saw Joshua’s eyes focus on a large town coach which had pulled across his path to turn into Bond Street.

      Ahead, Robert climbed down from his curricle, having handed his reins to his groom.

      She sighed in frustration, then finally, the bookshop was there, and she darted