“I’m afraid my son’s affections were otherwise engaged. But I found myself exceedingly fond of your daughter.”
Mr. Hunt smiled sadly. “I fear I have been a terrible father. Ever since I lost my Marianna, I let myself behave blindly, favoring my youngest because she resembles her so. I have spoiled Portia and disadvantaged Lydia most unfairly.”
Jane reached across the table and covered his hand with hers. “It’s easy to favor a child who resembles someone you love. Of all my children, Avery . . . he is so like my husband. I strive every day to give all of my children equal attention, but I admit it isn’t easy. My two youngest seem to slip through my fingers at times.”
Mr. Hunt relaxed, his eyes crinkling with a broader smile. “I admit, it gives me a small measure of peace to know I’m not the only parent who struggles with these issues.”
“Indeed you are not.” Jane suddenly grinned. “Perhaps we ought to start a society, one for single parents who need support in the raising of their children.”
Mr. Hunt laughed, his good humor restored for the moment. “I would certainly join.”
A maid entered the private room and laid out a supper of roast lamb and truffle soup. The two conversed for nearly an hour, long after the candles had burned low and the empty dishes had been carried away.
“We should rest. We will have another long chase tomorrow,” Jane said finally.
Mr. Hunt stood and offered his arm to her and escorted her up the stairs and down the long corridor of rooms until they reached hers.
“I want to thank you again, Lady Rochester. Not only for your support in this affair, but for the amiable company you’ve provided. I had forgotten what it was like to spend time in the company of a lovely, charming woman.”
Jane felt a sudden unexpected flush of heat roll through her. “I . . .” For the first time in years, she was speechless.
“I’m sorry if I have spoken out of turn,” Mr. Hunt added hastily.
“No, it was just . . . I am shocked that I feel the same way. I hadn’t realized I had missed the company of a man until now.” She ducked her head, feeling shy in a way she hadn’t in a very long time.
Mr. Hunt gently lifted her chin as he stayed close to her. “Would you do me the honor of calling me Jackson?”
He was close enough to kiss her, and for a wild moment Jane pictured him doing so. It was a wonderful image.
“Jackson . . .” She found herself smiling. “Then you must call me Jane. We seem to be bound in this quest, so it is only fitting.”
“Indeed. Well, I shall bid you good night.” Jackson slowly stepped back and made a formal bow as she slipped into her room.
She closed the door, leaning back against it, her heart racing. It had been far too long since she had felt like a young woman. Far too long indeed.
10
Lydia was still not used to waking up next to a huge, muscled body, or any body, for that matter. The feel of Brodie behind her, one arm resting under her breast, made her body tense, though not necessarily in the ways she would have imagined. She was thankful that a layer of fabric, however thin, lay between his long, elegant fingers and her bare skin.
She began to carefully peel his fingers off her breast. With the last finger freed, she slowly moved his hand back to his own body. He suddenly sighed and shifted, placing his hand on her hip as he found a new position.
Blast the man!
She had a desperate need to use the chamber pot, and he wouldn’t release his hold on her. There was nothing for it but to speak to him.
“Mr. Kincade, if you please, I need to use the chamber pot.” She pinched his arm and repeated her demand when he still showed no signs of responding.
After the third time, Brodie groaned dramatically and rolled over.
“Fine, go,” he grumbled.
She scrambled from the bed and had just crouched over the pot when she realized he would hear her.
“Could . . . Could you leave the room for a minute?” she asked.
He started to sit up, and she dropped her chemise back down to cover her legs. “Leave the room?”
“I can’t go when you’re listening.”
He started to laugh but then choked down the sound. “I was sleeping, lass, not listening.”