The Passionate Love of a Rake. Jane Lark

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      “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 inside.

      The bell above the door rang.

      “May I help you, Ma’am?” A mouse-like shop assistant was immediately at her side. Jane dismissed him with a flick of her hand.

      “I have merely come to browse.”

      Her heart was still pounding in a steady thump, the pace of a grandfather clock. She could see Robert’s curricle through the shop window. It stood vacant.

      Hiding her agitation, she took an aisle between the narrow shelves and hurried to its end, then slipped about the corner and stood with her back against the end of the row. Her breathing was ragged and unsteady.

      The shop bell rang again.

      Glancing along the back row of books, Jane saw a middle-aged gentleman studying the shelves at the end of the next aisle. She busied herself reading the spines of the books on the shelf facing her.

      Heavy, confident strides echoed along the aisle beside her.

      Jane held her breath, unsure whether to try to run or simply stay and face whichever one of her antagonists it was.

      “Jane.”

       Robert.

      Her breath slipped out on a deep sigh, and, despite herself, she had a sudden feeling of relief. His familiar face was a comfort, even if he was glaring at her.

      “I was on my way to call upon you. I do not see why there is any need to avoid me? I am surely not such a monster. I believe the other night was—”

      She shot him a meaningful look and turned her gaze to the gentleman further along the aisle.

      Robert looked contrite when she faced him again. “Perhaps we could look for a tea shop?”

      “No, thank you, my Lord. I am busy.” Her СКАЧАТЬ