“I don’t. Now, go home. Return to your husband,” he said. “You have misinterpreted my actions. You’ve twisted them.”
The earnest light died in her blue eyes, replaced by the flare of anger. Jane rose to her feet. “You are choosing her over me?” she asked, drawing the words out in disbelief.
“You are another man’s wife,” Gavin said carefully, distrustful of her tone.
“Is it because she dances naked?” Jane asked, her voice rising. “I can be naked as well, if that is what you want.”
And to his horror, she tore off the short jacket over her dress and threw it on the floor.
“Jane, be sensible,” Gavin commanded. He reached for the jacket but she was busy unlacing the back of her dress. Her gloves made her fingers clumsy. With an angry mew of frustration, she pulled one glove off using her teeth, kicking off her shoes as she did so—
Gavin was not about to let Rovington’s wife undress herself in the Clarendon’s hallway. His patience for both Rov and his wife had reached the breaking point.
He dropped his hat and came to his feet. Unceremoniously, he swung her up in his arms before she could do more undressing. She blinked in surprise and then cooed her delight, putting her arms around his neck.
He started down the stairs.
This was not the direction she had thought he’d intended. “Why are we going this way? Let’s go to your rooms. We will throw the Siren out.” She nuzzled his neck, as playful as a cat, and Gavin could have growled his exasperation. “I knew you loved me,” she whispered. “I knew it all along.”
They reached the hotel reception. Gavin was so intent on his purpose, he didn’t notice anyone as he strode through, Lady Rovington in his arms. Out on the street, a hack was just discharging passengers.
Without missing a beat, Gavin walked by the startled gentlemen and placed Jane inside the vehicle. He was not overdelicate about the matter and she had a bit of a scramble with her skirts and the like to right herself.
“Where are we going, Baynton?” she asked, even as he closed the door firmly in her face. Keeping his shoulder against the door in case Jane tried to escape, he took his money purse from his pocket and poured out a handful of coins.
Jane lifted the window flap and attempted to grab hold of Gavin’s face. “If you want a whore,” she said, “I’ll be your whore. I’ll be whatever you want.”
“I want you to go home, Jane.”
“Then come with me.”
He handed the money to the driver. “Take her away from here.”
“Aye, sir.”
“I love you, Baynton. I can make you happy.” Her fingers curled in his hair and he pulled away. She reached for him. “Don’t abandon me,” she cried. “Not after all you’ve done for me.”
The woman was mad.
Or was she making a scene for reasons only she and Rov understood? There was that. He would not put it past his conniving friend.
And a scene it was.
The driver snapped his reins and his horse moved smartly forward into the late-day traffic. Jane tried to open the door, hanging out of it and letting all the world know she would do anything for the Duke of Baynton. “I will dance naked,” she called as the vehicle turned a corner, almost throwing her forward and forcing her to close the door lest she be hurt.
Gavin let his breath go in relief. She was gone.
He pivoted, ready to see Sarah—and then realized he had an audience.
The Clarendon was a popular and busy hotel. At this hour of the day, travelers mingled with important visitors and those who enjoyed the French chef. Gavin counted no fewer than six members of the House of Lords watching him with mouths agape. Then there was a group of military men who could barely hide their snickers. They gave him nods of encouragement and sly winks commiserating with him over Jane.
More interesting was the expression on feminine faces. The older ones standing beside their husbands were shocked. The younger ones eyed him with open speculation.
Disconcerted by all the attention, Gavin started for the stairs. He had just made a scene. It was completely out of character for him. Of course people would gawk—
A woman’s embroidered silk reticule fell right in his path.
“Oh, I’m so sorry. My bag slipped from my hand,” a woman said. The speaker was a brown-eyed, fashionably dressed woman Gavin had not met before.
