Redeeming Jack (23 page)

“I rode ahead, but Gwyneth is organizing a cart to come and bring Gareth home. My maid, Martha, will accompany him.”

Jack nodded his attention fixed on his tea. “Gareth’s recovering well. The bullet wound seems to be free of infection—”

“The
bullet
wound? Your note said that Gareth had fallen from his horse and was unconscious.”

Jack half-smiled and rubbed his shoulder. “He did fall from his horse, right on top of me. In a vain attempt not to alarm you, I neglected to mention that he was shot at first. Although I have to assume the bullet was meant for me.”

Carys struggled to breathe. “How could you place my brother in such danger? He’s a man of the cloth!”

“I didn’t expect this mission to be dangerous or else I would never have allowed Gareth to accompany me.” Jack gave her a disgusted look. “Give me some credit.”

Carys pointed to the ceiling. “My brother lies wounded in his bed and you tell me not to worry? God, Jack. Just because you choose to live in a world where bloodshed and death are the norm, don’t assume the rest of us are used to it.”

Jack hunched his shoulders. “Say what you like. You won’t be able to make me feel any worse than I already do. Gareth is my best friend and I almost got him killed. I wish it had been me more than anything else on God’s earth.”

Carys studied his defeated posture. “Do you know why someone attempted to shoot you? Is it because of this business you are involved in for the duke?”

“I should imagine so.” His guarded expression reminded her of Owen when he was caught out in a lie.

Carys laid her palms flat on the table. “I think it’s time you told me exactly what is going on. You owe me that much.”

By the time Jack finished his tale, the kitchen staff milled around them, preparing breakfast for the household. Carys would’ve found it hard to believe his outlandish story of French spies and escaped criminals if it were not for her brother’s wounded presence upstairs.

Carys sipped her tea as Jack sat back and waited for her reaction. She still didn’t understand why he’d gotten involved with the silly business anyway, and yet she feared to ask. It might lead to the discussion Jack had already refused to take part in until he’d finished his mission.

“May I see Gareth now?”

Jack blinked. “Aren’t you going to ask me a thousand uncomfortable questions and then criticize all my answers?”

Carys rose to her feet. “I don’t have time for that. Once I start, I’ll have you pinned to that chair for days, and I really would like to see my brother.”

A reluctant smile appeared on Jack’s face. “I’ll take you up to him.” He escorted her to the narrow servant’s stairway. “I hope you don’t mind using the servant’s entrances and exits. Mrs. Mansell is rather a difficult woman and she loves a scandal.”

Carys picked up her skirts and followed Jack. “I remember her well. She always took great delight in my misfortunes and felt obliged to share them with every passing acquaintance.”

Jack was still smiling when they arrived outside Gareth’s room, which was situated in the unused nursery wing. He knocked on the door and allowed Carys to enter in front of him.

Gareth lay propped up in bed on a mound of pillows, his eyes open and his left arm in a sling. “Carys, what a nice surprise.”

His voice sounded thin and his color was high. Carys sat next to Gareth and held his right hand. His skin felt hot and dry under her fingers.

“Brother, whatever have you been doing? Gwyneth will never let you out of her sight again.”

Gareth managed a faint crack of laughter. “Don’t ask.”

Jack laid a casual hand on Gareth’s brow. “You still have a fever. Make sure you drink plenty of water and don’t touch any spirits.”

“As if I could.” Gareth groaned. “Between you and Richard, I’m in danger of being coddled to death.”

Carys squeezed his fingers. “Wait until Gwyneth gets her hands on you. Perhaps you’ll miss your kind friends.” Gareth’s listlessness worried her, and she caught Jack’s eye. “You’ll feel much better when you’re at home in your own bed with your family and friends around you, won’t he, Jack?”

Jack nodded. “Carys is going to take you home as soon as I consider you well enough to travel. And that will be when this fever comes down.”

Gareth opened his eyes. “Thank you, Jack. You saved my life. If you hadn’t stayed with me, I would’ve died out in that storm.’”

Jack shrugged. “If I hadn’t asked you to accompany me, you wouldn’t have been shot, so don’t make me into some kind of hero. Your sister wouldn’t agree with you at all.” He turned to the door. “I’m going to ask cook to brew up some more of that fever-reducing medicine. Carys, you can join me in the kitchen when you are ready.”

Carys bent to kiss Gareth’s bruised cheek. “Martha will be arriving with a cart shortly to take you home.”

Gareth’s breathing changed and he gripped her arm. “Don’t let Jack retrieve Mrs. Forester by himself, will you? Make sure Richard Mansell goes with him.”

Carys patted his hand. “I don’t know what you are talking about.”

Gareth’s hold tightened. “He intends to go into Mrs. Edwards’ house tonight and take Mrs. Forester back to London with him.”

Carys tried for a conciliatory tone. “Jack’s unlikely to agree to me telling him what he can or cannot do. And besides, I need to go home with you.”

Gareth winced as he tried to draw himself up in the bed. “I’ll be quite safe with Martha and whoever is driving the cart. Please stay. Jack has no one.”

Carys stared at him, unable to ignore the unspoken plea in his eyes. After hearing Jack’s stories about Mrs. Forester, it did seem churlish to leave him without help. “All right. I’ll stay and talk to Richard Mansell if you want me to, although how I’m going to explain this to Jack, I don’t know.”

“You’ll think of something.” Gareth’s eyes started to close again. “There’s a good girl. Take care of him. He loves you very much.”

Sleep overcame him. Carys allowed the truth of Gareth’s words to flood her senses. Whatever Jack had done, he did love her. She could feel it when he touched her, see it in his eyes and even breathe it in. It was no use denying it. Jack had given that sense of joy back to her as surely as he’d destroyed it when he’d left.

Could she trust him to keep his word this time and continue to love her, or would she be forced back into silence and darkness? Carys kissed Gareth’s hand, tucked it under the covers and went to find Richard Mansell.

* * *

“Are you insane?”

Despite his casual stance, Jack’s brown eyes glittered with disbelief. Carys had finally run him to ground in the coachman’s cottage after he’d given Gareth his medicine.

“No, Jack. I am merely attempting to honor a promise I made to my brother. Mr. Mansell informed me that he needs to remain at Oxwich Manor for the plan to succeed, and that leaves me to accompany you. “

Jack took a step toward her, his hands fisted at his sides. Carys refused to retreat. “You’re a woman. You wear long skirts, you never stop talking and you squeak at bats. How on earth do you expect me to take you along on a nighttime raid?”

Carys folded her arms across her chest. “I haven’t ‘squeaked’ at a bat since I was fourteen. I only ‘squeaked’ at it then because you tossed it in my face.”

Jack shrugged. “That’s irrelevant. You are still a woman.”

Enraged, Carys stepped forward and jabbed him in the chest with her fingertip. “Granted, I am a woman but I’m not a fool. I can wear men’s clothing and follow instructions. I can be quiet. And as for taking orders, you’ve been ordering me around for most of my life.”

Her attempt at humor didn’t penetrate Jack’s uncompromising frown.

She poked him hard in the chest again. “I intend to wait outside the house for you. If you return with Mrs. Forester, all’s well and good. If you don’t, I can raise the alarm.”

Jack looked down at her upturned face, his mouth set in a thin line. “And if I refuse to allow you to accompany me?”

Carys fluttered her eyelashes. “I’ll follow you anyway.”

Jack stepped closer until the toes of his boots lined up with hers. “And if I ask Richard to lock you up for the night?”

“I’ll scream so loudly they’ll hear me in Swansea.”

“Damn you.” Jack brought his head down and kissed her mouth.

With a satisfied sigh, Carys brought her arms up around his neck. In between kisses she murmured, “It’ll be all right, Jack. I promise I’ll be good.”

Jack moved out of her arms, his expression resigned. “That’s exactly what I’m afraid of.”

CARYS CROUCHED ALONGSIDE Jack behind the wall that surrounded Mrs. Edwards’ cottage. The sea was at high tide. It roared on the beach below them, rattled pebbles and dragged sand backwards in its powerful current. Carys had braided her hair and borrowed some clothes from one of Richard’s grooms. Jack caught her eye and she grinned. She was enjoying herself. He didn’t know why he was surprised. As a child she’d always been a daredevil. Only marriage to him had succeeded in breaking her spirit.

He thought of her unsuccessful pregnancies and her efforts to appease his mother. He’d not been the only one in their marriage faced with constant battles. She’d faded away before his eyes, and he’d never had the time or the ability to make her understand that he loved her just the way she was. Carys was right. Their marriage had become a sham long before he demanded she leave with him. She’d lost faith in him.

He stole another glance at her. Despite what she’d gone through, or perhaps because of it, she had emerged as a stronger, more forceful person. Someone he admired, someone he could love without reservation.

Jack brought his thoughts back to the matter in hand. Richard had arranged for a closed carriage and a maid to escort Mrs. Forester to London in Jack’s care. All Jack had to do was get Mrs. Forester back to the stable yard at Oxwich Manor without creating a scene.

Jack pressed his hand against the gate and it swung inwards without a sound. He’d sent a message to Mrs. Evans and asked her to leave the back door of the house unlocked as well.

He glanced across at Carys and touched her shoulder. “If I don’t come out of the house within a half hour, take yourself up the hill to Richard.” He tightened his grip. “You are not to enter Mrs. Edwards house under any circumstances. Do you understand?”

Carys rolled her eyes. “Yes, Jack. You’ve repeated yourself a thousand times. If there’s any hint of trouble, I’ll fetch help.”

“Do you have Richard’s watch?”

Carys held up the heavy gold pocket watch for his inspection. He flipped open the engraved case and checked that the time was correct.

“Aren’t you going to check your own watch?” Carys asked.

“I don’t have one.”

“What about the one your father gave you when you turned twenty-one?”

“I pawned it several years ago. At that point of my pitiful existence, having the time seemed less vital than having something to eat.”

Carys touched his cheek. “You have changed. When I first knew you, I suspect your pride would have demanded you keep the watch.”

Jack trapped her fingers against his face. “Hunger is a hard master. I like to think I’ve learned what the true priorities are in a man’s life.”

“And what are they?” Carys whispered.

“Health, gainful employment and self-respect.”

“Is that all?”

Jack brushed his mouth over the top of Carys’s head, inhaling her sweet perfume and the tang of the sea. “Perhaps that’s all I deserve.”

Carys pulled away until she could stare at him. “That’s nonsense. You told me you seek to restore your reputation.”

Jack felt his lips twitch at her flare of temper. At least she hadn’t mentioned love again. “That is my plan.”

“And restoring Mrs. Forester to the Duke of Diable Delamere will miraculously achieve that?”

Jack closed the watch with a snap. “This is hardly the place to discuss this.”

Carys’s mouth set in a firm line. “You said we had to wait until it was completely dark. We have time enough.”

Jack dropped the watch back into her outstretched palm and folded her fingers around it. He made himself comfortable on the ground. “It’s quite simple. If I return Mrs. Forester to the duke, he will use his influence to discover why I was blamed for the incident in Spain.”

“When Oliver’s brother died, and Marcus Stortford was captured by the French?”

Jack nodded. “During the ambush, some important papers were stolen from me. By the time I was released from hospital, I had been accused, tried and convicted by my commanding officer of passing information to the French.”

Carys’s fingers dug into his knee. “The same man who had you flogged?”

“Aye, the same. No one was prepared to listen to my side of the story. My father made matters worse when he attempted to ‘persuade’ the officials that I was suffering from some mental disorder. His intervention made it seem as if there really was something to hide.”

“But do you truly believe one of the other men with you was responsible for what happened?”

Jack shook his head. “I’ve had five years to think about it, and I’m no closer to discovering the truth. I would trust Marcus Stortford with my life. I have to believe the French discovered us by accident and simply gained more than they bargained for.”

Carys resettled herself on the ground, her knees drawn up to her chin. “I still don’t understand what this has to do with the duke.”

Jack searched her upturned face in the moonlight. If he died tonight, he would like to think that at least Carys understood what he’d tried to achieve. “There have been rumors over the years that Marcus is alive and being held for ransom in rural Spain,” he said carefully. “If I aid the duke and other interested parties, they have promised to help me find Marcus.”

Carys nodded. “And if he is found, he should be able to corroborate your story and clear you of blame.”

Jack held her gaze. “That’s why I need to capture Mrs. Forester. The duke indicated that he will be most grateful for her return.”

The sonorous boom of the stable yard clock at Oxwich Manor sounded one mournful note above their heads.