Fanning the Flame Read Free

I'm quite an early riser. I prefer to enjoy the park before the crush arrives."
    "That is my preference as well." He was lean, his skin darkly tanned, as if he often spent time in the sun. His features were strong, even harsh: black slashing brows and lean cheekbones, a mouth that looked hard, but was perfectly curved, except for a faintly cynical lift at one corner. A thin scar ran from his temple along his jaw, giving him a dangerous air, and yet it was a face of uncommon beauty, the sort a woman would notice the moment he walked into a room. His looks combined with the powerful presence he exuded to make the earl a potent force.
    "Morning is the very best time of day," Jillian went on, groping for something to say that wouldn't sound inane, forcing herself not to look away from the midnight blue eyes that assessed her with such bold regard.
    Blackwood barely nodded. "Yes . . . the sunlight has a way of sweeping the demons away."
    It was an odd thing to say. She studied him with renewed curiosity and thought she saw something shift behind his eyes, as if the door he had accidentally opened had once again slammed closed.
    "Lord Blackwood was in the cavalry for a number of years," the duke said mildly. "I don't think he'll ever get used to spending much time indoors."
    "I can understand that. I prefer the country myself." Jillian smiled a bit wistfully, thinking of the small, ivy-covered cottage where she and her father had lived in Buckland Vale, a little village near Aylesbury.
    "Is that where you got your interest in birds?" the earl asked.
    "The ducks, you mean?" She glanced down at the creatures once again wobbling toward her from the pond. "I've grown quite attached to them, I'm afraid. That's Harold, there; and this little brown hen with the spots on her face, that's Esmerelda. If I don't bring them a bit of bread in the mornings, I worry they won't get enough to eat. Silly, isn't it?"
    The duke cast her a glance. "You sound like my wife, Kassandra. She adopts every stray animal that comes her way. Just yesterday she ran across a litter of abandoned kittens in the mews. She was up half the night feeding them with a rag dipped in milk."
    But he didn't look disturbed about it. In fact, he looked rather proud of her efforts.
    The earl—Blackwood—however, continued to watch her as if he played a game of cat and mouse. There was no doubt which one of them was the prey. Jillian shivered beneath that intense regard and returned her attention to the duke.
    "I hope your wife is well."
    "Quite well, thank you. I’ll be certain to give her your regards."
    She nodded, hoping they would leave, but Blackwood seemed in no hurry. Since that was the case, she made ready to depart "It has been a pleasure to see you again, Your Grace, but I'm afraid you'll have to excuse me. It's past time I returned to the house."
    "Yes . . ." Blackwood cut in, assessing her in that unsettling way of his. "Should you be overly late, I'm certain Lord Fenwick would become quite concerned."
    Was that mockery she heard in his voice? Had he heard the gossip about her? It always seemed ridiculous to her, considering the earl's age and health. She couldn't imagine how it had ever got started. The duke didn't seem the sort to be amused by such things, but Blackwood . . . he was difficult—no, impossible to read. Her stomach clenched to imagine what the men might be thinking about her.
    "Farewell, Your Grace," she said to the duke.
    "Have a pleasant day, Miss Whitney."
    She tipped her head to the earl. "It was a pleasure to meet you, my lord."
    Dark blue eyes swept over her. "The pleasure was mine, Miss Whitney, I assure you."
    Still uncertain what she heard in his voice, Jillian turned and started walking away. She expected the shuffle of boots as the men remounted their horses and rode off the way they had come. Instead, only one of them departed. Without looking back, Jillian knew which one remained. She could feel the dark earl's gaze on her back until