The Duke's Lady (Historical Romance - The Ladies Series) (6 page)

“Annie, let me help here. I feel strong enough.” Jewel smiled hesitantly. She felt useless just sitting and watching others work.

“Nay. Besides, ye have just gotten out of bed.”

Jewel straightened her shoulders and prepared herself for an argument. She knew she’d have her hands full convincing Annie. “I promise I’ll tell you if I get tired. There must be something easy I can do,” she suggested hopefully. “All of you have done so much for me, it’s the least I can do.”

“Adam would have my head and ye would hear the roar of the lion himself.” Annie shook her white-capped crown. “Now, be a good lass and go on back to the sittin’ room. I’ll check on ye later.”

“Go to the sitting room? And do what?” Jewel mumbled. “No, I don’t think I will.” She wandered down the hall past the stairs to what she thought would be the study. Her curiosity about the duke had to be satisfied.

The sharp odor of cherry tobacco pricked Jewel’s nose as she opened the door. How masculine the room appeared. A sense of power and strength emanated from the dark, massive furniture. She wondered what His Lordship was like. “Probably old and ugly,” she murmured to herself.

Bookshelves lined the wall behind the desk, reaching from floor to ceiling. Hundreds of leather-bound tomes on every conceivable subject filled the space. Pulling down a text, she carefully opened it to the first page and scanned it swiftly. She could read, so she must have had some kind of education.

Putting the volume back in its place, she began cleaning with the feather duster she’d found. Jewel stretched up high, but the pain in her back reminded her all too quickly that she wasn’t fully recovered.

A pair of blue leather wing-back chairs soon glistened from her efforts. Next she tackled the mantel, carefully picking up each vase. When she’d replaced the last one, she glanced up and noticed a large portrait hanging above the mantel. She had to back up to get a better look. An older, distinguished man stared down at her. His finely chiseled face had strong aristocratic features. However, his strange coal-black eyes dominated his attributes, and compelled her attention as his black piercing pupils seemed to stare right through her so much so she found it impossible to glance away. How silly, Jewel thought. The painter must have been in a hurry because no one had eyes the color of midnight.

Casting off the eerie feeling, she turned back to the task at hand, moving over to the large, mahogany desk. Its rich colors matched the bookcase perfectly. She picked up a paper lying on the top, trying to get some feel for the man. The sheet she held was a ledger from a farm that was probably on his estate. Putting it back, she shook her head as she looked at the messy desktop. It was hard to decide where to start. Her knees buckled, and she could tell her legs felt just a little wobbly. She’d just finish this last thing, and then she’d find a chair where she could rest.

Stacking all the documents to one side, she began to dust. In her haste, she bumped the largest stack of papers, and watched as they scattered in disarray over the floor. “Damn,” Jewel swore as she got down on her knees to retrieve the papers. Annie’s words came back to her and Jewel bit her lip in consternation. Hadn’t Annie warned her how particular His Grace was? That was all Jewel needed ... to anger a man she had yet to meet.

She rose with her arms full of papers and glanced at the painting. If he looked anything like this painting, he stayed in a bad mood. Perhaps he wouldn’t notice the documents were out of order if she just spread them across the desk.

Engrossed in her task, she didn’t hear the door open.

Chapter Five

Adam’s eyes narrowed as he watched a young lad going through his papers. A muscle twitched in his cheek. By God, no one entered his study unless invited! Pulling out the gun he kept tucked in his belt, he eased across the room with a quietness that years of training had taught him.

Catching the lad off guard, Adam wrapped his arm around the boy’s neck and jammed a revolver into his back. He felt a smug satisfaction when the boy yelped.

“What are you looking for, son?” Adam growled in a low, menacing voice. “I assure you that everything in this room belongs to me, and you better damn well have a good excuse for being here. I strongly suggest that you slowly turn around.”

Adam felt the boy stiffen, and it took a moment before the lad spoke. “You’re hurting my back! For an old man, you sure have a mean grip. Remove that damn gun, and I’ll do as you request.”

“As I request! Bloody Hell!” Adam’s shouts vibrated the windows. “You’ve some nerve, son.” Not waiting for the boy to move on his own, Adam grabbed him by the shoulders and spun him around.

The angry words Adam was about to hurl at the boy caught in his throat as a pair of angry brown eyes looked up at him. Eyes that he’d seen only briefly before. Eyes that now held him spellbound.

Jewel? No, it couldn’t be. Surely she was still in bed, he reminded himself. Wasn’t that why he had ridden so hard from London? Was it possible? Could this be the same person?

“Jewel?”

A young woman stared
up at him, her anger having vanished, and he could see she was as shocked as he. “Yes,” she replied softly. “A-are you His Grace?”

Adam nodded slowly. His gaze rested upon the feather duster she held in her hand and his temper flared once again, but this time for a different reason. Did she think she had to earn her keep? She couldn’t possibly be well and should be in bed regaining her strength . . . not playing downstairs maid. He had a staff quite capable of cleaning.

“What are you doing in here?” he snapped.

Jewel gasped at his abrupt tone. Of course she was snooping, but she couldn’t tell him that. He had taken her by surprise, for she’d never seen a man who . . . who was so much a man. The man before her stood ... tall ... powerful. He took her breath away.

So
he
was the magnificent lord of the manor, the one she half-dreaded, half-anticipated seeing, and he was making it plain he didn’t approve of her. Jewel couldn’t fathom why he was so upset. Evidently, he had a very low opinion of her if he thought she would stoop to thievery.

“I’m sorry I’ve been so much trouble to you and Annie. I thought to make up for it by dusting that thing”—she pointed behind her—“you call a desk. For your information, I was not prying.” She looked to heaven and asked for forgiveness. “I’ve no reason to,” she stated as she gazed straight into his dark eyes. What had happened to the softness she’d seen there only moments ago? His eyes had now turned to pitch black. Just like the portrait over the mantel. The one she’d assumed was his portrait.

“Is that your father?” She nodded at the picture above the fireplace. She could see the simple question threw Adam completely off guard, and again his expression changed.

“My grandfather,” he answered abruptly. “Who has nothing to do with this conversation.” His eyes traveled over her, taking in every inch of her appearance. “No wonder I thought you to be a lad—look at the way you’re dressed, in a blousy cotton shirt and black breeches. Men’s garb, to be precise!” He threw her an irritated scowl.

“Perhaps not.” She shrugged. “But I saw the painting earlier and wondered. You do look a lot like him, you know,” she finished lamely.

Jewel stared into his dark, brooding eyes and took note of his strong chin. She remembered all of Annie’s warnings as they tumbled through her mind. “The roar of the lion himself. He hates havin’ anyone in his study. He’ll be havin’ me head.” Then, completely without warning, Jewel swayed, all the excitement having drained her strength. Luckily, a pair of strong arms caught her just before she hit the floor, and carried her over to the settee and sat her down.

“You shouldn’t be out of bed so soon. I’ll have Annie’s hide for this,” Adam growled.

“No, don’t!” Jewel laid a hand on his forearm, feeling his tense muscles beneath her fingertips. “It’s all my fault,” she admitted. “The doctor said I could get up, and I persuaded Annie to let me come downstairs. I—I’ve just overdone it a little. I’ll be fine, really.” A strange shiver of delight hammered through her. She found his presence a little over
whelming.

The chestnut riding jacket the duke wore fit snug across his broad shoulders, and his handsome face was deeply tanned. He radiated an aura of power that intrigued and drew her. Even though she sensed Adam could be very dangerous.

But for now he touched her almost tenderly. Concern softened the harshness in his eyes, and she wondered if she’d really get to know him before she left.

“Who are you?” His words broke into her thoughts, making her jump.

She wished she could answer that question. She wasn’t sure what he would do when he found out she didn’t know. Would he turn her over to the authorities?

“I do not know,” she finally said softly.

Surprised, Adam raised one black eyebrow. “What do you mean . . . you don’t know?”

“I cannot remember anything but my first name.” She paused. “The doctor said in time my memory will be restored. I’m sorry I’ve been so much trouble.”

Adam realized he was staring at her slightly parted lips, wondering how they would taste. Then he remembered his previous nights in London where Jewel had plagued his dreams. She wasn’t like the sophisticated ladies with whom he usually kept company. She looked more like a child than a woman. She was so small. Yet he could see signs of a radiant beauty—once she regained some of the weight she’d lost—and he itched to reach out and touch her short hair.

Knowing where his thoughts would lead, he turned his attention back to Jewel’s outlandish tale. “You’ve not been any trouble. I just wish the devil I knew where you came from and what brought you to my doorstep, but I guess that will have to wait. Let’s get one thing straight from the start. You do not earn your keep by working in my house. You’re to be a guest in my home until we can find out where you belong. I trust I’ve made myself perfectly clear on that point.”

The tone of his voice hinted he wasn’t accustomed to repeating himself or having his instructions questioned. Perhaps she should humor him and be a little obedient. But some inner tingling told her that obedience wasn’t a part of her personality.

A mischievous light stirred deep within her, and she gave him a small smile. “Yes, I understand. But you must also understand, I need something to do, unless you would like me to die from boredom.”

Adam smiled, and she held her breath. His chiseled jaw relaxed and his eyes sparkled, taking away his stem expression. Why did she sense smiling was something he rarely did?

“I guess I should go back to my room,” she said. “I promised Annie I wouldn’t overdo.” Jewel stood to leave, but instead of making a graceful exit, her foot slipped on the rug, and she fell right back into Adam’s lap.
Uncle Jean had told her she would outgrow her clumsiness one day . . . she was still waiting.
Her eyes widened as the snippet of memory flashed through her mind. Was this something? Perhaps a beginning to who she really was.

“Well, now.” Adam chuckled. “If you wanted me to carry you, you had only to ask.” He looked down at her, his lips mere inches from hers.

Jewel’s cheeks grew warm from Adam’s bold stare. Had anyone ever looked at her the way he did? Could he tell how fast her heart hammered or how many butterflies fluttered in her stomach? His arms felt like steel around her, and a strong tide of emotions flowed through her. She was surprised when he hadn’t removed his arm from around her.

“I—I think I can walk.” But as she took a step, her knees trembled so badly from the duke’s closeness that she had to clutch his sleeve.

It was the only invitation Adam needed. He swept Jewel up into his arms and carried her to her bedroom before reluctantly setting her back on her feet. The desire to kiss her became overpowering. What a natural temptress, he thought. And again he questioned his reaction to her. Normally, he could distance himself, but this one—confused and bewitched were feelings he didn’t care for.

“You’ll not have to wear men’s clothing again,” he said in a firm voice.

“But these clothes are fine,” Jewel argued, sweeping her hands over her attire. “We couldn’t find anything else that I could wear, and Annie told me you had burned my clothing.”

“If you’ll let me finish,” Adam said patiently. “I bought a few things for you while I was in London. I hope they fit.”

“But . . .” Jewel started to protest further. Then she noticed the boxes stacked in the comer of her room. There were at least thirty. He had bought her all that? “How did you know my size? You really shouldn’t have ... I don’t even know you . . . why did you buy so many?” Overwhelmed by surprise, she was astonished that he’d been thinking of her while he’d been gone.

He looked suddenly as if he considered a very grave matter. “So far I’ve found you to be clumsy, you have a temper, and you talk excessively when excited. We’ll have to work on that problem before you drive me daft.” He smiled this time.

“A deep breath will be required to answer all your questions, my dear. First, I told the dressmaker you were about the size of my sister, maybe a little shorter. Since the seamstress has sewn for my sister before, she already had her measurements. Second, I thought it better that you be clothed.” His lips curved into a smile as he thought,
Better for me.
“Third, you’re right. I don’t know you, but we are getting ready to correct that. I’ll have Annie bring dinner up here tonight, and we’ll dine together. Now, does that answer all your questions?”