His lips twitched. “You are an aggravating, conniving little wretch, do you know?”
“Yes, I know, but I will grow on you over time.”
Hawk gave a snort. “I doubt that.”
He wouldn’t give her the opportunity to grow on him, he promised himself, but for now it appeared he was stuck with her.
Determined to ignore her as much as possible, Hawk stretched his long legs out on the opposite seat and leaned back against the leather squabs. Then he crossed his arms and shut his eyes, prepared to get some of the sleep that had eluded him the previous night because of his erotic dreams and pretend he wasn’t acutely aware of the charming beauty who sat there on the seat beside him, smiling so sweetly and smugly.
Skye was vastly relieved that Hawkhurst had agreed to let her accompany him, albeit under duress. Yet he was distancing himself from her, she could tell. When he woke from his slumber, he unbent only enough to tell her the route they would take.
They were now heading for the seaport of Bristol, where they would likely have to wait for a passenger ship to ferry them to Wexford Harbor in Ireland. From there they would travel northwest to Kilkenny, the closest county to England that matched the details Mrs. Nibbs remembered. Hawkhurst had made this exact journey several times in the past, in search of champion bloodstock for his racing stables.
Otherwise, he withdrew from conversation the first day, hiding any emotion in his eyes behind that dark fringe of lashes. Skye resolved to bide her time, but it was difficult in the close confines of his coach. Her physical awareness of him grew with each mile they traveled. Sitting so near to him, she could feel the warmth of his splendid body and smell the now-familiar scent of his skin mixed with the freshness of soap.
When they reached Bristol late that evening, they took separate rooms at an inn but ate supper together in a private parlor. Over the meal, he made one more effort to dissuade her. “I will happily hire a carriage to convey you home in the morning.”
Skye shook her head. “You will not change my mind, my lord.”
The stakes were too high, she added silently, both for her uncle and for herself. This was her best and perhaps sole chance to win Hawkhurst as her heart-mate, and she wasn’t giving up.
He continued pressing her, however. “Bella is scheduled to arrive at my estate tomorrow. She will worry when you are not there to receive her.”
“I left her a note of explanation. She will not only understand, she would encourage me to accompany you. Besides, I might actually be able to help you find Lady Farnwell. Two heads are often better than one.”
“I already have two heads with Macky. Three, counting Linch.”
“It is not the same thing. You obviously haven’t considered Lady Farnwell’s perspective. If a number of strange men come hunting for her after all these years, she may take fright. As a woman, I will stand a better chance of soothing her fears. Especially since I am related to her former lover.”
Hawkhurst gave her credit for the point but said he would be able to manage Lady Farnwell on his own. “Furthermore, I have no desire to be burdened with a meddlesome pest the entire journey.”
Skye smiled up at him. “Instead of chiding me for meddling, you should be thanking me for providing you a reason to leave home.”
His mouth curled. “You are all consideration.”
“Indeed, I am. It is not healthy to dwell on your sorrows. I can provide you a distraction and keep you company.”
“I have no desire for either.”
When she offered to play chess—or cards, if he preferred—to break up the monotony of their travels, he agreed to chess but didn’t seem to appreciate the teasing note in her voice when she added, “If I win, you must tell me more about the Guardians.”
Hawkhurst responded with more than a hint of exasperation. “You will learn nothing more about them from me.”
“Why is it so imperative that your league remains a secret?”
“If I tell you why, it won’t be a secret anymore, will it?”
Other than their chess matches and meals, however, Hawkhurst spent as little time as possible with her. Two mornings later, they boarded a ferry, along with the earl’s carriage and servants. As they sailed out of the mouth of the Severn, heading for the Irish Sea, Skye stood at the prow of the ship beside Hawkhurst, unable to contain her excitement, despite a chill wind and rough seas.
“I have never been to Ireland before. In fact, I have seldom left England, although I accompanied my family across France this past summer to support Jack when he visited his father’s principality of Navartania, so this will be an exciting adventure for me. The Wildes are known for their audacious exploits, but I never am allowed to enjoy any.”
Judging from Hawkhurst’s skeptical glance, he didn’t appear to believe her. “What do you call camping on my doorstep in a thunderstorm?”
“That was unnerving, not exciting. And I am speaking in generalities. My brother is overly protective of me and firmly resolved to keep me out of danger.”
“Can you fault him for that?”
“I suppose not. But it is hardly fair. Quinn is the daredevil in our family and is even an intimate of Lord Byron. He risks his own skin far too frequently to my mind, and his cavalier attitude toward his own safety is our greatest source of disagreement. After losing our parents, I couldn’t bear to lose Quinn also. And he feels similarly about me. But my gender is a significant additional disadvantage.”