“So do I.”
“You know I will counsel my brother against contemplating any kind of betrothal arrangement with you concerning your sister.”
He nodded once. “I know, but that’s not the battle I was talking about just now.”
Her forehead furrowed and her eyes searched his face again. Her breathing became more labored. “What other battle could you possibly be referring to?”
Hawk knew she had no idea what he was talking about, because he’d had no inclination of it himself until that moment. But now he knew it as clearly as he knew his own name.
A second or two passed before he answered, “The battle for you, Miss Quick.”
Chapter 7
A gentleman should never be talking to one young lady and allow his thoughts to wander to different young lady.
APROPERGENTLEMAN’SGUIDETOWOOINGTHEPERFECTLADY
SIRVINCENTTYBALTVALENTINE
Hawk was sure there were worse things than being the guardian of a younger sister but at the moment he didn’t know what they were. He stood in the vestibule of his London town house shaking his head. Adele was the last person he expected to see upon his arrival back in Town. He would have immediately assumed something was seriously wrong at Hawksthorn if not for the sparkle of warmth and happiness showing in her light-green eyes.
“What the devil are you doing here?” he asked, removing his hat and tossing it onto the side table.
“I came to see you, of course,” she answered in her usual perky manner.
“To see me?” Exasperated, Hawk dragged his cloak from around his shoulders and glared at her. “Alone? Inthe dead of winter? Whatever for? I saw you less than a month ago at Hawksthorn.”
“First, I wasn’t alone.” She smiled, took the cloak from his hands, and laid it beside his hat. “I had Minerva, a footman, a driver, and, of course, my maid with me. The same group as when I travel to London with you. And how ridiculous of you to suggest it’s the dead of winter with spring only weeks away. The roads weren’t bad at all. And why are you looking so glum? I thought you’d be happy to see me.”
“Did you really?” he asked, waving away the servant who’d walked into the vestibule to greet him.
“Yes, of course I did.”
It irritated Hawk all the more that Adele didn’t seem to have any idea how foolish she’d been to travel to London without him as her escort. She could have been in grave danger if the coach had been set upon by highwaymen. Armed footman or not.
He would speak to Minerva about allowing her to undertake this folly. Not that it would do any good. Adele had her older cousin wrapped tightly about her finger. Minerva would never object to anything Adele wanted. His sister had been allowed to have her way since the day she was born to his aging parents. When they died within weeks of each other from a relentless plague of dysentery, Minerva had come to live at Hawksthorn and had followed their lead concerning Adele.
“Don’t be so cross with me, Hawk.” She clasped her hands together in front of her skirt and looked positively joyous. “I have the most wonderful news that I knew you’d want to hear right away. Miss Wiggins is going to have puppies! Soon!”
By the devil! Hawk could have bit nails. “You came to London to tell me that?”
“I thought you’d be happy to hear. You know how much I love Miss Wiggins.”
“I would have been happy to hear it when I returned to Hawksthorn. I don’t like you traveling to London without me and especially when I don’t even know you are coming.”
He didn’t like returning home from a grueling carriage ride over bumpy roads, cold, tired, and ready to settle in front of the fire with a glass of brandy and think about Miss Quick, only to find his sister standing in the doorway expecting him to be delighted with her presence.
Hawk loved his sister but she was work. She wanted to be taken care of—which was fine, but along with that she had an independent streak that was difficult to manage at times. Now that she was of marriageable age it was time someone other than Hawk took on the job.
“Your bluster is not going to diminish my enthusiasm,” Adele declared confidently.
That he was certain. Not much did.
“I know you’re weary from your journey and need to relax. Come into the drawing room and I’ll pour you a glass of your favorite brandy.”
With that she turned and headed down the corridor.
“I can pour my own drink,” he muttered to himself and then breathed in deeply as he tossed his gloves on top of his cloak.
