Page 6 of Stolen by My Knave
CHAPTER TWO
The carriage halted in front the Earl of Clifton’s country house. It was as elegant as it was enormous. He’d never seen a house quite so large. Ivy grew along the side brightened by the sun; neatly trimmed hedges bordered it along the front. Graceful and beautiful at the same time—if a piece of architecture could hold those monikers. Either way, the estate was something Jackerson Morgan Carwyn, the Duke of Whitewood, wasn’t accustomed to. He was used to a seedier sort of individual—one that looked out for their own interests.
How had he ended up here?
It was a philosophical question as much as a literal one. Was it worth his time and the pandering he’d have to do to gain the Earl of Clifton’s support? Jack had doubts about a lot of things. There were choices he’d made that he regretted—at least in small part. He fully believed everything happened for a reason. He was meant to be at this estate for some reason. In time, he’d fully realize what that was. He hadn’t always believed in fate, but a lot had happened in recent years that had changed the system he had in place.
Here he was, at a country estate because he hoped to do business with the Earl of Clifton. There would be debutantes and society mamas abound, ready to push their offspring in his direction. He’d not marry any of them, and he’d have to disabuse them of that notion straightaway. He’d never been a gentleman, and he’d be damned if he’d start in order to appease the sensibilities of society misses. He’d earned his title by other means.
The king, at the time, had bestowed it upon him for saving his life. The man had a tendency to think with his favorite male appendage and found himself in an untenable situation. He’d been engrossed in having one of his mistresses’ lips on that particular body part when his carriage had been waylaid by highwayman. To the thieves’ credit, they’d not known it was the king as he traveled in an unmarked coach. The king and his mistress had been on their way to Bath to partake in the healing waters—the king had hoped to extend his life as long as possible. The monarch didn’t want anyone to realize he’d been ill.
Jack hadn’t meant to interfere. It was an accident really. When he’d fallen through time, he was disorientated and for a moment he’d thought he was on his ship. The ground had appeared to sway as if waves were underneath rocking him back and forth. In his warped mind the carriage had become something he’d needed to defend at all costs. The bandits were killed and the king saved—all things he barely remembered. Most of it was explained to him when the king decided to reward his bravery. By giving him something more of a token and worth next to nothing—the prestige of being a duke—it was almost laughable.
The title had been long forgotten and hadn’t come with any entailed property or earnings. Jack had to work hard to earn a living, and all the title had given him was perceived respectability. He struggled for too many years to become flush. He might not have a grand estate, but he had all the essentials he needed. His London townhouse and the funds to keep it running were all he truly required. Business ventures, for the most part, now distracted from boredom.
Jack sighed and pushed open the carriage door. It was time to make his pleasantries and hopefully escape to find solitude. He wished for about the hundredth time he didn’t have to attend a party to gain the Earl of Clifton’s attention. Most of the pansies didn’t want to do a lick of work. Involve themselves in trade? Unheard of... But Jack had no such qualms. He rather liked having a roof over his head, nice clothes, and food in his belly. If he had to do something so tedious as embark in trade to gain those—so be it.
The door opened before he had a chance to click the knocker. A stuffy old man with white tuffs of hair stood before him. The butler perhaps?
“How do you do,” Jack said. “I’m here for...”
“I’m aware why you’re here, my lord,” the old man replied. “Please, come in.”
What a rude man. Jack wasn’t sure if he liked him or not. He didn’t have much patience for people himself and could appreciate someone who didn’t take any nonsense from any one. Still, he could’ve been a little more cordial.
“It’s Your Grace,” Jack corrected him. “Am I the first to arrive?”
“My apologies, Your Grace. I’ll have a footman see to your trunks.” With that, he turned and left him standing in the hall, disappearing into another room. Jack wasn’t sure what to make of it. Was he supposed to figure out where to go on his own? Well, good thing he was well acquainted with making himself comfortable in any surroundings. He’d wander the house until he discovered something interesting. He didn’t want to socialize, but perhaps he could find the library and discover something to read. Afterward, he’d locate Lord Clifton and maybe even a servant who’d be able to direct him to his chambers.
He headed past the stairs in the foyer and down another hallway. He peeked in several rooms as he passed them until he located the one he was looking for. It took him far longer than he anticipated, but he wasn’t surprised either. A manor the size of a small city would take a while to navigate. He supposed he was exaggerating on the manor’s expansiveness, but it seemed massive.
He entered the room and crossed over to the nearest bookcase. The numerous tomes were carefully arranged on the shelves by subject, and then by author. The section he stared at was full of romantic claptrap. Not at all something he’d choose for reading material. There had to be something interesting and factual for him to invest his time in.
“These are some of my favorites.” The voice was light and quite feminine. He was intrigued enough to want to discover who it belonged to. He didn’t want to have a dalliance with an innocent, but perhaps a little flirtation would alleviate his boredom. Jack turned around and met the gaze of perhaps one of the most gorgeous women he’d ever encountered. Her eyes were the darkest blue he’d ever seen, and she had the prettiest blonde hair. It was a light gold that sparkled in the light streaming through the window.
“Are they?” He lifted a brow.
She continued to stare at him. Her mouth fell open slightly and she lifted her eyes wide. Had he startled her in some way? She shook her head and then a smile filled her face.
“Pardon me, sir,” she said. “I’ve been unforgivably rude.”
“I believe this house is at fault. Every person I’ve met since my arrival has treated me thusly.”
“That’s inexcusable.” She frowned. “Lord Clifton should have been around to greet you. I believe he was called away unexpectedly. Was it Parsons who let you in?”
He tilted his head and studied her. She was so bloody beautiful. Was she perhaps promised to Clifton? Jack pushed the thought away—it didn’t matter who she was attached to. She wasn’t for him regardless, and he wasn’t there to shop for a wife.
“I wouldn’t know. He didn’t bother to introduce himself. I’m not even sure where I’ll be sleeping tonight. He practically ran from the room.”
She sighed. “I’m afraid that must have been Parsons. He’s the worst butler. At Weston, he’d have been let go. My father wouldn’t have allowed such abysmal behavior. Sadly, we’re far away from Weston, and I’ll have to deal with it until we return home.”
The chit had a whimsical tone to her voice. Her pink lips beckoned him so he took another step back. He might do something foolish and kiss her if he didn’t. Jack didn’t even know her name. A female had never tempted him quite as much before, and he’d had his fair share of women. None made him want things he’d given up on, but this one was meant for love, loyalty, and respectability. This one promised to be his undoing.
“And where is your family home?” Jack asked.
She was staring at him again. He didn’t like it one bit. What did she see? Could she tell he wasn’t a true gentleman? It was clear to him she was a lady, and more elegant than the word could describe. She was the epitome of grace and beauty. He wouldn’t dare sully her by touching her.
“I’m sorry, but you seem so familiar to me. Have we met before?” she asked.
