Tall, Dark... Collection. Carole Mortimer

spy for you,Your Grace,’she finished lamely.

      Hawk drew himself up to his full considerable height and looked down his nose at her. ‘A spy, Jane?’ he repeated hardly. ‘And why would my sister suppose that I would want to set a spy on her? Unless—’ He broke off, his expression darkening as he glanced towards the open door. ‘Damn it, what has that girl been up to now?’

      ‘Your Grace…?’

      Hawk glared, his hands clenching into fists at his sides before he turned sharply on his heel to move and stare sightlessly out of the window. ‘You will leave me now, Jane. Return to the drawing room and tell Lady Arabella that I wish to see her. Now. Immediately. Did you hear me, Jane?’ He turned to scowl at her darkly when he heard no movement to show she was about to do his bidding.

      ‘I—For what purpose, Your Grace?’

      Hawk became very still as he looked at the pointed angle of Jane’s chin, at the stubborn set of her mouth and the challenging sparkle that now lit those deep green eyes as she steadily met his gaze.

      He had doubted the wisdom of his visit to Norfolk even before his arrival there. The ill-bred behaviour of his hostess and her obvious matchmaking attempts between himself and her daughter had only confirmed those doubts, so hastening his desire to leave Markham Park at the earliest opportunity.

      In the normal course of events that would have been the end of the matter, enabling Hawk to put the whole unpleasant experience behind him. Unfortunately the main irritation of his stay—and the main amusement, he inwardly admitted—was now standing before him!

      With open challenge in her sparkling green gaze…

      It really was a novel experience for him, Hawk acknowledged ruefully. He had become even more aware since his return to Mulberry Hall, where even his slightest need seemed to be fulfilled before he had expressed it, of how unusual it was for anyone to oppose him in the way Jane constantly did.

      As a novel experience it had caused him amusement on several occasions, but it was surely not to be tolerated when it came to his dealings with his young sister!

      He arched dark, arrogant brows. ‘The purpose of my summons is none of your concern, Jane.’

      ‘It is if it is something I have said that has instigated that summons!’ Jane refuted impatiently. ‘I cannot in all conscience—’ she gave a firm shake of her head ‘—give Lady Arabella such an instruction if, when she arrives, you intend to inflict some sort of unjustified rebuke or cruelty upon her—’ She broke off abruptly, alarmed by the way in which the Duke’s face had darkened ominously.

      Her breath actually halted in her throat as he strode back to the dark and rested his clenched fists on its top, to lean so far forward that his face was now only inches from her own, his eyes glittering dangerously, nostrils flared, his mouth thinned to an uncompromising line.

      ‘I have no idea, Jane—no idea at all,’ he repeated in an icily soft voice, ‘what I could possibly have done in our so far brief acquaintance to give you the belief, even the idea, that I might—what was it you called it exactly?—Ah, yes, that I might intend inflicting “unjustified rebuke or cruelty” upon my sister. They were your exact words, were they not—’

      ‘Stop it, Your Grace!’ Jane cried her agitation as he once again spoke to her in that deceptively mild tone.

      Because there was nothing in the least mild about the Duke’s emotions at that moment. In fact, he appeared so full of suppressed fury that it might cause him to explode at any moment!

      ‘If you wish to shout at me, Your Grace, then I would much rather you did so and got it over with. But do not, for goodness’ sake, play with me like a cat tormenting a mouse—’ She broke off, frowning, as the Duke gave a hard bark of laughter. ‘Did I say something to amuse you, Your Grace?’ she prompted, slightly indignantly.

      Hawk gave an incredulous shake of his head. Anyone less like a mouse than Jane Smith he could not imagine!

      This young woman challenged him, reviled him, defied him—and yet still something stopped him from telling her to go to the devil, to absent herself from his company and never show her face to him ever again.

      The proudness of her carriage, perhaps? The sharpness of her spirit? The creamy turn of her cheek? The unfathomable depths of those enticing green eyes? Or maybe the fullness of her lips? Those lips that could be curved with amusement one moment and then turned down with such disapproval the next…

      As they had been twisted with disapproval constantly since entering Mulberry Park an hour ago!

      ‘Leave me, Jane,’ Hawk instructed wearily, as he straightened before resuming his seat behind the desk. ‘Just go now—before I cease to be amused by anything about you!’

      Jane hesitated, continuing to look at him uncertainly even though she knew herself to be well and truly dismissed.

      She had meant to soothe Lady Arabella’s obviously ruffled feathers by talking to the Duke about the wisdom of his announcement, but instead she seemed only to have succeeded in annoying the Duke even further.

      ‘Still here, Jane?’ His tone was bitingly dismissive as he looked up at her coldly.

      Jane caught her bottom lip between her teeth and turned slowly to walk to the door, dearly wishing there was something she could do or say that might somehow soften a situation that she was aware was partly of her own making—although she was not naïve enough to believe that the self-possessed Lady Arabella would have kept her opinions on the subject of Jane’s presence in the house to herself the next time she saw her brother!

      Nevertheless, Jane was conscious of the fact that she had been the first to broach the subject, so causing the Duke to be more angry with his sister than he might otherwise have been.

      ‘Your Grace…?’ She hesitated in the doorway, looking back at him. His head was bent, his hands at his temples, fingers threaded through the dark thickness of his hair.

      He gave a weary sigh as he slowly looked up at her. ‘Yes, Jane?’

      Her throat moved convulsively as she swallowed. ‘Perhaps—perhaps if you were to assure Lady Arabella that I will not be staying long…?’

      His mouth firmed. ‘But we have no idea how long you will be staying, do we, Jane? I have your promise concerning your future travel arrangements, remember?’

      Yes, the Duke had her promise, Jane acknowledged with a slow nod of her head, before leaving the room to close the door behind her much more quietly than she had opened it.

      But the promise she had made him only applied in regard to her attempting to travel to London…

      ‘Please sit down, Arabella,’ Hawk invited, with an abrupt gesture towards the chair in front of his desk as his sister swept into the room some ten minutes later.

      Long enough, Hawk guessed, to show him in what contempt she held his summons. An opinion supported by the fact that, instead of sitting in the chair he had indicated, his sister chose to make herself comfortable in one of the armchairs beside the empty fireplace.

      What had he ever done, Hawk wondered impatiently as he stood up to join her, to deserve two such stubborn women in his life at the same time? One openly rebellious, the other less obviously so but nevertheless just as determined to go her own way?

      Arabella regarded him with cool brown eyes as he sat in the chair opposite hers. ‘I cannot help but question your reasons for bringing Miss Smith here, Hawk.’

      He had been expecting his sister’s attack—if not actually prepared for the subject of it!—having already taken warning at the rebellion darkening the beauty of Arabella’s eyes.

      Arabella had grown so quickly from child to young woman, it seemed now to Hawk as he looked at her, that for once he was not quite sure how to proceed with the interview. He was certainly in no mood for cajolery, but to openly forbid a continuation of what he saw as Arabella’s wilfulness