His gaze held tightly on hers. “The earl is a hard man. That is not strength, Loretta.”
No, it wasn’t. “If you don’t mind me asking, what did you say to get him to acquiesce to your wishes?”
“I don’t mind you asking at all.” A roguish grin lifted one corner of his mouth. “But I’m not going to tell you. What was said between us was private.”
“But I know him well. He will, no doubt, seek a favor from you in the future.”
The duke nodded. “He will.”
“And what will you do if it’s something you don’t want to do?”
“I will do it. Whatever it is he asks of me—it will have been worth it to have had your brother”—he paused for a moment before adding—“and you here at Hawksthorn with me.”
Chapter 17
A gentleman should always look at the lady he is wooing as if she were the most beautiful lady in the world.
APROPERGENTLEMAN’SGUIDETOWOOINGTHEPERFECTLADY
SIRVINCENTTYBALTVALENTINE
Dinner was a lavish affair.
There was no other way to describe it. The table had been covered in a gleaming white cloth. More sparkling silver and crystal than Loretta had ever seen on her uncle’s Christmastide dinner table had been placed in perfect order at each chair. The room glowed richly with candlelight and leaping flames from the roaring fireplace. The duke was seated at the head of the table with Loretta and then Paxton to his right and Lady Adele and Mrs. Philbert to his left. A dark red wine filled the crystal glasses, and small courses of soup, fish, fowl, potatoes, and meat had been consumed. Now a sweet confection of stewed apples and cinnamon folded into a delicate pastry bowl, and served on gold-etched plates, had been placed in front of everyone.
Loretta wore a pale-lavender gown with a sheer, cream-colored overskirt. It flowed with scalloped flounces that fluttered and swished like butterfly wings every time she took a step. Delicate beading trimmed the scooped neckline, the hem of her capped sleeves, and the high waist. The diamond-and-amethyst necklace she wore was fashioned in an elaborate starlike design. According to her uncle, it had been her mother’s favorite. Therefore, it was Loretta’s favorite, too, and it made her happy to have the opportunity to wear it again.
Just as the wineglasses were never empty, the conversation had never lagged. Paxton and Lady Adele had chatted like magpies enjoying an early summer morning while perched in their favorite tree. They exchanged stories about their childhood, books they had read, and their shared interest in all of nature’s beauty. They moved from one subject to the other with hardly a break to take a breath in between.
Hawk and Loretta had discussions, too, but theirs were softer, less hurried and excited. And they’d included Mrs. Philbert from time to time, who seemed to welcome the chance to speak. She was a good distraction so that Loretta wasn’t constantly looking at the duke as she wanted to do. Their talks weren’t as open and freely spoken as Paxton’s and Lady Adele’s. They all knew how to manipulate the dialogue along, and yet be wary, evasive, or persuasive with their words and expressions when they needed or wanted to be.
One bite of the scrumptious fruit was all Loretta could manage after feeling obligated to taste each of the five previous courses. Gingerly she laid her spoon aside and picked up her wine. She watched, amused and amazed, as Hawk finished off his dessert with vigor, as if he hadn’t eaten another mouthful all evening.
When he noticed she was watching him, he set his spoon on the empty plate and said, “I don’t believe you’ve told me what you thought of the book I gave you.A Proper Gentleman’s Guide to Wooing the Perfect Lady.Did you read it?”
It was more like she’d memorized it, but not wanting him to know how precious it was to her, she only answered, “I read it straightaway as I promised I would.”
“What did you think of the man’s ramblings? A bit high-handed, priggish, and rather an egotist, wasn’t he?”
“Egotist? In what way?” she asked.
“That he felt qualified to lecture other gentlemen on the proper rules of wooing a lady.”
Her lips twitched in a smile. “Well, he did do quite a good job of it.”
“You truly think so?” Hawk grunted ruefully, smiled, and then said, “It might be nice to know just how many successful courtships the man had in order to deem himself an expert in the art of wooing a lady.”
“Perhaps not any.”
His eyes concentrated on hers as if he were trying to figure out her meaning before he said, “Why do you say that?”
“He was so insightful, my first thought was that the author must have been a woman writing under a man’s name.”
Hawk laughed softly, huskily. “Your humor pleases me, Miss Quick. So does your imagination.”
She sipped her wine. “I wasn’t trying to amuse you,” she pointed out to him. “I was being honest. I thought: How does this man know so well what it is a lady appreciates, what she wants, how she desires to be treated, and what pleases her most?” She could tell by the look in his eyes and expression on his face that she had captivated him, and it thrilled her immensely. She smiled and added,“And then I said to myself, it must be because he is really a woman.”
His expression of awe settled into a look of disbelief as his eyes narrowed. “You really believe that?”
