Redeeming Jack (25 page)

Carys waded into the foaming sea and climbed into the boat. Six inches of bilge water floated over her boots as she settled herself in the center, surrounded by twelve men. Jack took the oar on his left and began to row in unison with the others. The sea was choppy, and the boat popped up and down like a champagne cork. Carys looked up at the stars and the gathering storm clouds, lulled by the rhythmic dip and sway of the oars.

What on earth was she doing here? In her zeal to aid Jack, she’d missed another opportunity to get home to Owen. When had it become so important to her that Jack succeed in his mission? She pictured her son asleep with his favorite stuffed horse tucked under his arm. Martha had agreed to take him to her brother’s farm as soon as Gwyneth was able to cope without her.

As they rounded the uppermost point of Port Eynon Bay, the twelve oarsmen had to work harder to combat the cross currents and head wind that threatened to pull the boat apart. Jack’s shoulder pressed hard into hers as he drew back on the oar. Ahead of them, the hull of a trading ship rose up out of the water. It had the alert, prepared look of a vessel ready to slip away as soon as the winds steadied.

A single lantern flash from Richard’s boat brought an answering flash from the covered lantern on theirs.

“Richard intends to negotiate with the captain while we wait here in case we are needed,” Jack murmured in Carys’s ear.

Richard and his crew rowed forward and hailed the lone sentry. Jack’s boat came around and circled the ship, moving farther out into the open water. Carys strained to listen as a spirited discussion began between Richard and someone on the French ship.

Jack nudged her arm, his breath warm against her frozen cheek. “I’ll wager the French are denying all knowledge of Mrs. Forester’s presence.”

“Now there’s a surprise.”

Jack chuckled, and the rumble of his laughter vibrated through her body like a cat’s purr. She moved closer to his warmth and he put his arm around her.

“If Captain Fury has left, we stand more of a chance of retrieving Mrs. Forester, don’t we?”

Jack nodded. “I told Richard to offer the French captain as much money as he needed. We have to assume he’s bribable. Any ship prepared to risk coming this close to land in a time of war is probably not on official business. The duke assured me he would pay whatever it took to retrieve Mrs. Forester.”

“Why is she so important to him?”

Jack looked at their fellow passengers, who seemed to be following their conversation with great interest. “I’ll tell you when we have more privacy. I’ll wager every man here speaks Welsh as well as English.”

“Aye, we do, sir, but don’t let that stop you.”

Jack grinned at the black-haired speaker and shook his head. “Not this time, Evan. You’ll thank me when no one comes looking for you to slit your throat.”

A single gunshot brought Jack’s attention back to the ship. A lone figure stood on the deck and waved at them.

Jack gulped in a breath. “That’s Richard onboard. Now let’s pray he can get Mrs. Forester off that ship.”

As they waited, the wind rose and plucked at the sails of the French ship as if trying to pry them loose. Carys gripped the plank seat while Jack and his companions battled to maintain their position against the change of the tide. Above the roar of the sea, Jack waited anxiously for another signal from the French ship. It came at last. Jack grabbed his oar, ready to row back to shore.

“He’s got her.” He shouted at Evan, who manned the rudder, “Will we be able to get back to Oxwich Bay?”

Evan shook his head and struggled to help pull in the single sail. “Not with the wind like this. It’s better for us to push around Worm’s Head and come in at Rhossili.”

Jack smiled encouragingly at Carys. “You’ll be home sooner than you think, love.”

She managed a wan smile, her face pale against the darkness of her hood, her brilliant hair darkened by the rain and sea spray.

Jack put his strength into his oar. The boat shuddered like a live thing as they tried to alter course. He glanced over his shoulder noticing the French ship come to life and haul up its anchor.

“Surely the captain couldn’t be thinking of leaving now?” Jack took another look and bellowed a warning at Evan. “If we don’t move fast, it’s going to cut right across our path.”

Without further discussion, the men upped their stroke, forcing the boat through the turgid water that seemed to resent their hurried passage. Jack’s blood thundered in his ears as the gap narrowed between their boat and the towering bulk of the ship.

In a few moments they would head back toward the shallow waters of Rhossili Bay, and the French ship should set out for the open sea. Jack arched his back and drew hard on his oar again.

He lost his oar when with a grinding shrieking sound, the ship’s bow sliced into the opposite side of their small boat. He pulled Carys into his arms as the boat splintered like a toy and held her while they plummeted into the icy water.

Around him, bodies kicked and thrashed. Water closed over their heads and forced them down. Carys tried to struggle out of his grasp, but Jack held onto her cloak until the black hull of the ship passed over them. His lungs screamed for air and he kicked hard and fought his way to the surface.

A small patch of oil from the broken lantern burned on the surface of the sea, illuminating the wreckage of their boat and the surviving crew. He tried to grin at Evan, who trod water alongside him, but found he didn’t have enough air left to attempt anything beyond coughing up seawater.

Evan gestured at Carys. “I’ll look after my men. You get your lady to safety.”

Carys thumped on his chest and he hoisted her higher in the water, balancing her foot on his knee. She swept the hair out of her eyes to reveal her shocked face. Jack bent to kiss her nose and received more than he bargained for when she sneezed.

He was devoutly thankful that she wore men’s clothing. The weight of her petticoats and skirts would have hindered her attempts to float. She nodded, and he turned her toward the distant lights of Rhossili Bay.

“The tides going our way and I’ll be right beside you. Just keep going in a straight line.”

He wasn’t worried about her swimming abilities. Like all the children he’d grown up with, she swam like a fish. He tried to gauge the distance they had to cover as she moved alongside him, her strokes sure and even despite the press of the waves. Ten minutes passed, and Jack sensed Carys tiring.

When his feet hit pebbles and stones, he ignored the pain, simply thankful to be close to shore. Carys grabbed his arm, and he held her head above the water until she managed to find the bottom as well. The next wave crashed in behind them with a roar. Jack staggered and fell to his knees, bringing her with him.

Like two ungainly seals, they crawled their way up the beach, out of the reach of the water.

Carys pointed up the cliff. “Thank God, my cottage is just up here.”

Jack followed her up the steep steps cut into the rock face. He stumbled as he went and cursed as his overtired body protested every last call he made on it. It was too dark to see much of Carys’s cottage, although he caught the scent of herbs and the gleam of white painted fence as she led him through the garden.

It was cold in the kitchen. No welcoming glow lit the oven or fireplace. Carys lit a candle, and Jack knelt to deal with the fire and the coals for the oven. When he stood up, Carys had disappeared. She returned with a kettle full of water that she set on the stove.

Before Jack could speak, Carys suddenly sat down, her arms crossed over her chest. Fear burned in Jack’s belly as he grabbed the candle and played the light across her face. Was she wounded? She shivered so hard her lip was bleeding

“What’s wrong,
bach
?”

She didn’t answer him. With a curse, Jack picked her up and settled her against his chest. He grabbed the candle in one hand and hurried up the stairs. He kicked open the first door he saw and then stopped, realizing the room couldn’t be Carys’s. It had the ramshackle appearance of a hastily abandoned child’s room.

He backed out and tried the next door. The sweet scent that flowed out confirmed it was hers. He sat her on the edge of the bed, put the candle on the cabinet and started to hunt for blankets. “Are you hurt,
cariad
?” he asked over his shoulder as he ransacked the carefully folded piles of linen.

“No…just cold,” she whispered. “Jack, we could have
died
, we…”

Jack knelt at her feet and pulled off her boots. “Let’s get you undressed and into bed. I’ll bring you up something warm to drink as soon as the kettle boils.” He stripped off her soaked stockings and breeches. “Can you stand?”

Jack curved his arm around Carys’s hips and brought her to her feet. He helped her step out of her breeches, his cheek pressed against the soft, rounded flesh of her stomach. A slow heat burned through his gut. He wanted to turn his head and lick her soft skin, taste the salt on it, coax the scent of her arousal onto his tongue.

Jack closed his eyes and willed himself to let her go. This was definitely not the time to remember how close he was to her bed. He stepped back and hoped she hadn’t noticed his slight hesitation. “Can you manage your jacket and shirt yourself?”

Carys fumbled with the brass buttons of her coat. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “My fingers are frozen to the bone.”

Jack fought a brief battle with his conscience and took over the task. If anything, his fingers trembled more than hers. He tried not to brush her breasts with his knuckles but he couldn’t help it. He was no longer cold. He was so hot that he was starting to sweat. His only consolation was that Carys’s eyes remained half-closed as he removed the last of her garments.

The first pearl-like strands of dawn filtered through the window and illuminated the beauty of her exposed skin. For a moment, Jack allowed himself to take in her loveliness before he ruthlessly covered her from head to toe in a blanket.

“I’ll go and get you some tea.”

Carys’s eyes snapped open as he took another blanket and cravenly ran from the room. The kitchen was beginning to warm up, and Jack shed his clothes and set his boots by the meager fire. He wrapped the blanket more securely around his hips. Where was Carys’s child? And where was Martha? Jack suddenly remembered Gareth’s plight. It was possible that Martha had taken the child with her when she went to aid Gwyneth.

Jack wondered how he would have felt if he’d barged into the boy’s room and met his wife’s bastard face to face. Did the child look like Carys, or would Jack see the coal-dark features of Oliver Rice?

The kettle came to the boil, and Jack made some strong sweet tea. He glanced up the shadowed stairs. He had to check on Carys at least once before he succumbed to sleep. Could he manage not to beg her to allow him into her bed? He squared his shoulders. Of course he could; he was only concerned for her physical welfare. His unwanted lust would surely disappear if left to fend for itself.

Clutching two mugs of tea, he climbed the stairs. Carys’s bedroom door was still open after his hasty departure. She knelt on the bed and was attempting to dry her hair with one of the sheets Jack had left her. His mouth dried as he noted her blanket had slipped and exposed the long, supple line of her back and buttock. She looked like a mermaid preening on a rock.

He put the tea down and moved closer. Through the curtain of her hair, Carys met his gaze. Wordlessly, he crossed to her dressing table, picked up a comb and began to work on the tangled mess of her hair. Carys gave an odd sigh and leaned against him. The coldness of her skin made his flesh prickle to life.

With a hoarse groan, he picked her up and cradled her in his arms, seeking her mouth, seeking her sweetness. She kissed him back, and the salt of the sea mingled with the rising heat of his desire.
Mermaid, enchantress, siren
. Her hair slid over him like a silken net, trapping him, encircling him, keeping him safe.

Jack managed to pull away an inch. “I’ve made you tea. You should drink it while it’s hot. You need to keep warm.”

Carys slid her fingers into his hair. “Stay here with me, Jack. I reckon you’ll keep me much warmer than the tea.”

INWARDLY, JACK TENSED. Did Carys understand that he yearned to celebrate life with her in the most natural way possible? After their near drowning, he wanted to feel alive, to kiss her satin-smooth skin, to join his body with hers.

She pulled hard on the damp curling hair at the back of his neck and drew his face down to hers. He was almost afraid to look in her eyes. What would she do if he refused to stay with her? He set his jaw and flinched when she smoothed her fingers over his unshaven cheek.

“Don’t go. I want you, Jack.”

“God help me, Carys. I want you more than life.” The words exploded out of him as he pulled her completely into his arms. With a groan, he yielded to her sharp nip and opened his mouth.

Her blanket fell away and brought her lush breasts into contact with his chest. She tasted of the sea and the promise of desire. He wanted to kiss her forever.

She rested her palm against his naked chest and his heart sped up. His kiss grew more possessive as he urged her even closer. With her hand trapped between their bodies, it was easy for Carys to untie the hastily knotted blanket around his waist.

He groaned deep in his throat as she stroked his hard, thrusting shaft. She leaned into him and pushed her hips against his. With all the sanity that remained within him, he gently grasped her forearms and set her away from him.

“
Cariad
, I want you to think about this very carefully.”

“Why?”

Jack let out a frustrated breath. “Because if I take you back into my bed, it will jeopardize any chance you have of obtaining a divorce. Don’t you remember what your solicitor told us? If we spend a single night together under one roof, I can no longer divorce you. I am considered to have forgiven you.”

She reached out and reclaimed his aching cock. “We are completely alone. No one will know what we do tonight unless we tell them.”