The Hawk and the Dove Read Online Free PDF Page A

growing a little disappointed that he could get no great emotional response from her. She was meek, submissive, and polite, everything a woman should be, and yet … and yet … Gently he pushed her fingers away and stood up. He held out his hand to her and said simply, “Come, Larksong.”
    Sebastian Hawkhurst looked pitifully frail, yet Hawk sensed that he was gathering all his strength to approach his son on a matter of grave importance.
    When he told Hawk what he wanted of him, the younger man was both annoyed and amused, and refused to take his father’s request seriously. “Marry? I have no intention of doing any such thing.” He laughed heartily.
    “Hawk, you are twenty-eight. You should have been settled years ago.” He was losing patience now and said angrily, “Marriage would be a steadying influence. God knows you need one! Before you come into the title, I want you to marry.”
    “I’ll not do it,” said Hawk lightly. “You can’t force me to it.” He grinned to soften his words.
    “I can and I will if I have to,” shouted Sebastian Hawkhurst.
    Hawk raised a black eyebrow, questioning his father’s meaning.
    “On my death the title of Lord Devonport goes to my heir … my legitimate heir …” He left the significant words hanging in the air and Hawk was momentarily shocked into silence.
    “How long have you known?” he asked quietly.
    “Known what? That your real father is that Irish spawn of the devil, the O’Neill?”
    Hawk was afraid that his father would become so worked up he would take another stroke, but suddenly the old man visibly relaxed. He smiled and his face softened with the deep love he felt for this son. “I’ve known for almost twenty years.” He shook his head, remembering all those years back. “We’d enrolled ye at that fine gentleman’s school near London and the summer ye were about nine or ten I was missing ye terrible. I’d sailed up to London on business and went down to the school to visit and that’s when I discovered ye never spent the summers there, only the winters. I was baffled, astounded … I put men on the case to learn yer whereabouts and they traced ye to Ireland … to the O’Neill.”
    Shane put out his hand and gripped his father’s shoulder hard. “I would have spared you such knowledge.”
    Sebastian shook his head. “The hard part for me wasn’t that Georgiana had been unfaithful to me, for she was a rare beauty and what woman could resist such a wild Irishman as the O’Neill? Nay, the hard part for me was knowing such a fine son was not sprung from my loins. She sent ye off to him every summer and I let it continue, for hadn’t he the right to a share of ye as ye grew to manhood, and hadn’t ye the right to know andconsort with your own father, your own flesh and blood?”
    Shane was deeply touched by such an attitude. “You were ever the most generous man on the face of the earth. You forgave my mother and you loved me.” It was a statement of fact.
    “That wasn’t generosity. That was selfishness! I wasn’t about to cut my nose off to spite my face. Where else could I have found a woman to equal your mother in beauty or passion? Where else find a strong son who made me burst with pride?” He chuckled softly. “And I’ve always cherished the hope that perhaps, just perhaps, there was the slightest possibility that you could have been my seed.”
    Shane felt humbled. How could he refuse this man his dying wish? How could he not be generous in the face of such overwhelming generosity?
    “So ye see, ’tis all a sham that I’d deny ye my title, but, Hawk, ye’d make me rest happy if ye’d give me your word that ye’ll wed soon.”
    “I’ll give you my word, if we can find a woman who’ll have me, but what makes you think marriage will keep me out of trouble?” he joked.
    Sebastian Hawkhurst grimaced. “That whoreson O’Neill—I know you supply him with money … arms … and worse, information! I’ve a terrible