Redeeming Jack (7 page)

He groaned out loud, startling an elderly matron who drew her brood of children away from Jack’s shadow. Jack scowled, and one of the children began to wail. Just one taste of Carys had made him hard. If he’d continued kissing her or if she’d made the least effort to touch him, he doubted if he’d have let her go for a lifetime.

His footsteps slowed and he looked unseeingly at the busy walkway in front of him. The tentative spring-like sunshine had tempted many to take a walk in the park. She’d definitely kissed him back but she hadn’t truly responded to him. Had he frightened her? Had his touch been unwelcome?

Jack found himself at the bottom of the steps leading up to his father’s solicitor’s office, Tufnell, Tufnell and Tubbs. His father, had left a message with his lawyer that he wanted to see Jack. That had been several weeks ago, and Jack hadn’t bothered to respond.

He stared at the solid black door and brass knocker. If he managed to make things right with Carys, he might need to communicate with his father. He put his foot on the bottom step and then paused, his father’s cold features fixed firmly in his mind.
If
he made things right with Carys… He turned sharply and retreated back into the park.

What did he want? He’d thought it would be easy, that Carys would be waiting for him with open arms. He’d forgotten that she would change too. Her cool veneer of sophistication and her hidden strength fascinated and appalled him at the same time. She was not the sweet, biddable girl he’d left behind, which served him right.

And then there was the added complication of Lord Oliver Rice. Jack had heard rumors that Rice’s intentions toward Carys ran to marriage and that betting in the clubs said she’d take him.

Jack sat down on a vacant bench and snorted. Funny how everyone seemed to conveniently forget Carys was married to him. He’d become as invisible and unwanted as the beggars who haunted the
ton
’s doorsteps. He gazed at the clear blue sky and decided to head for the Duke of Diable Delamere’s townhouse. If Carys intended to meet with the duchess later in the day, he needed to be gone before she arrived, or she’d begin to think he was following her.

He strolled under a tree and bent to pick a bunch of fragrant bluebells. For his transgression, he endured a lecture from the park keeper, which he smilingly ignored. Wrapping the slimy, dripping bluebell stems in his patched handkerchief, he reached the quiet elegance of Grosvenor Square. Despite his preoccupation with Carys, he and the duke had a lot to discuss.

On admittance to the cavernous entrance hall of Delamere House, he chanced upon the duke and the duchess descending the stairs. He bowed with a courtly flourish and held out the limp bunch of bluebells. “Your Grace.”

The duchess accepted his gift with a laugh. “Thank you, Jack. They are beautiful.” She handed him back his grubby handkerchief without a shudder of distaste. “I must run and put them in water. Please excuse me.”

The duke cleared his throat. “My dear, if I’d known you preferred wild flowers, I could have saved a fortune at the florists this winter.”

Jack chuckled. “Forgive me, Your Grace, but I can’t quite see you traipsing through a bluebell wood, stealing flowers for your duchess.”

The duke ignored him as he sent the duchess a surprisingly intimate smile. “You’d be surprised what I would do to please Her Grace, Llewelyn. You’d be very surprised.”

She turned a delicate shade of pink and hurried away without a single word. Jack fought back a grin as the duke’s silver gaze alighted on him.

“Did you wish to see me, Llewelyn, or did you just come to flirt with my wife?”

Despite the duke’s light tone, there was a level of possessiveness in his voice that Jack took careful note of. He bowed. “I came to see you, of course, Your Grace.”

In the duke’s study, he found Michael Waterstone pouring over a pile of letters. Jack smiled with real pleasure. Having shared some of Jack’s battle experiences in the Peninsular, Michael was one of the very few people whom Jack felt comfortable with.

“
Buenos dias
, Michael
. Como estas
? Are you keeping up with your exercises?”

Michael lifted his right elbow and placed it at a challenging angle on the desk. “Would you care to arm wrestle with me, Jack? I swear I could beat you now.”

Before Jack could do more than exchange a grin with Michael, the duke came in and shut the door behind him.

“I have some good news for you, Llewelyn. Michael has managed to unravel a little more of the code. It seems as if our suspicions were correct. Mrs. Forester has definitely returned to Wales.”

Jack accepted the cigarillo from the elegant box the duke held out to him and a glass of brandy. “That’s good to know, Your Grace. Gareth and I will be ready to leave at your convenience.” Jack hesitated and looked at Michael. “There is something else I need to discuss with you, Your Grace, in private.”

Michael gave him a quizzical smile as he wheeled his chair out of the study and firmly shut the door.

Jack returned his gaze to the duke, who sat at his ease behind his desk. “These matters are of a personal nature.”

The duke raised an eyebrow. “As far as I am aware, I am not your spiritual advisor, Llewelyn. What do these ‘confessions’ have to do with me?”

Jack gritted his teeth. The duke was never an easy man to deal with. “Both are relevant to the mission you have asked me to undertake, Your Grace. First, I have been approached by another ‘interested’ party and asked to pass on information as to the success or failure of my mission.”

The duke sat forward. “You begin to interest
me
, Llewelyn. I assume you are referring to the notorious Captain Fury?”

“You know of him? I had begun to think he was a figment of my imagination. I confess, I do not know why he wants this information, but I thought you should know of it too.”

The duke blew out a perfect smoke ring and waited until it dispersed. “I am surprised and gratified that you thought to be honest with me.”

Jack’s mouth went dry and he shot to his feet, a sick feeling in his stomach. “Despite what you might have heard, Your Grace, I am not a liar.”

“Dammit, man, sit down. I refuse to conduct a conversation with you towering over me.” The duke stubbed out his cigar as Jack reluctantly capitulated. “You are becoming tedious. I told you I trusted you when I offered you this mission. Believe me, I am not a man who uses the word ‘trust’ easily.”

Studying the duke’s hard face, Jack had no problem believing that. What the duke didn’t understand was that it was equally hard for Jack to trust the duke in return. “I just wanted you to know, Your Grace, that I cannot refuse to cooperate,” he said stiffly. “I need Captain Fury’s connections to help a friend of mine. I cannot afford to alienate him now, even if you decide I am no longer suitable for the job.”

The duke waved aside Jack’s stilted explanation. “I repeat. I want you to go ahead. Now, what was the other matter you insist on regaling me with?”

Jack cleared his throat. “My wife will accompany me on the journey into Wales. We have matters of a personal nature to discuss which will not wait.”

The duke laughed. “I’ll wager you do, Llewelyn, seeing as your wife is just about to announce her betrothal to another man.”

Jack fixed his gaze on the portrait behind the duke’s head and let out a calming breath. “I am not asking for your advice on this matter, Your Grace.”

“I will offer you some anyway. If you wish to proceed with a divorce, I promise to use my considerable influence with the Prince Regent to see that it happens”

Jack stared at his empty brandy glass and resisted an urge to throw it at the wall. Why did everybody assume Carys would be better off married to that idiot Rice? Aware that the duke was watching him intently, he placed his glass on the duke’s desk. “Thank you, Your Grace. I’ll bear it in mind. I can assure you I won’t allow my personal business to affect my mission.”

“Good. I will contact you tomorrow as to my plans. Be careful, Llewelyn. Women have a way of interfering in a man’s life when he least expects it.” He smiled as his duchess entered the room.

She placed a vase filled with bluebells on the edge of his desk. “There, doesn’t that look nice? Thank you so much for bringing them to me, Jack.”

“It was a pleasure. Your Grace.”

The duke stood up and claimed his duchess’ hand. “Why don’t you go and have lunch with Michael, whilst I take my wife for a walk in the park? Perhaps I, too, might find time to dally amongst the bluebells.”

Summarily dismissed, Jack took his leave. He followed his nose to the dining room where, to his relief, he and Michael enjoyed a long lunch without any further interruptions.

* * *

Carys pulled nervously at a loose curl and waited to be admitted to Delamere House. She picked up her skirts as the pompous butler led her up the imposing staircase to the duchess’ receiving rooms. The house was enormous, much larger than the Duke of Carmarthen’s and somehow far more intimidating.

Her first impression of the duchess’ drawing room was that she’d stepped inside an oyster shell. Subdued gray silk lined the walls. The drapes were palest pink and the furniture a blur of silver and cream. It was not at all what she expected and quite unlike the rest of the house.

“Good afternoon, Lady Jack Llewelyn.” Elizabeth, came toward her, her hand outstretched in greeting. “I am so glad you could come. May I introduce you to His Grace?”

Carys shook the duchess by the hand and performed a smooth curtsey. She gulped as a large figure dressed in stark black and gray materialized beside the duchess. She had heard gossip about the current duke even in her rural backwater. Having learned from her experiences with the Llewelyn family that the aristocracy needed to be faced with confidence, she lifted her chin.

The duke smiled at her. “Lady Jack, it is a pleasure to meet you at last.” He brought her gloved hand to his lips. “Forgive me, I cannot stay. I have business in the city.”

Carys found her voice. “Thank you, Your Grace.” His eyes glinted silver at her and she wondered what on earth she had thanked him for. Now he would think she was glad that he was leaving.

To her relief, he turned to his duchess and kissed her fingers, his voice intimate. “I will not be long, my love. Enjoy yourself.”

The duchess gestured to a seat beside the fire as the duke shut the door behind him. “Well, what do you think?”

Carys gave a gentle shudder, her attention still on the departing duke. “He is quite fearsome, Your Grace. Rather like a basking shark.”

The duchess looked startled. “I was talking about my newly decorated rooms, not my husband.” Her eyes met Carys’s and they both began to laugh. After a while, the duchess leaned across and clasped Carys by the hand. “Please call me Elizabeth, and may I call you Carys? I truly think we were meant to be friends. I can’t wait to tell the duke what you said.” The duchess busied herself pouring tea into pale silver porcelain cups. “His Grace has that effect on most people. I can’t quite understand why. I’ve always found that the best way to deal with him is to stand up to him.”

Carys repressed a shudder at the very thought and turned the conversation back toward the newly decorated rooms. Still laughing, the duchess pointed out a crystal vase, which contained four limp bluebells.

“Jack, your Jack, brought me some bluebells this morning when he came to see the duke. When I returned from my walk with the duke after lunch, I found all the stone pots on the steps to the back garden had been filled with bluebells.”

“By Jack, Your Grace?”

Elizabeth colored delicately. “No, by the duke. He loves to surprise me and hates to be shown up by another man. Even if it is only Jack.”

To Carys’s delight, it appeared as if she and the duchess had a lot in common. In a strange way, it also helped that she didn’t have to explain about Jack. Many of the
ton
only deigned to acknowledge her if she was prepared to discuss the old scandal or reveal tidbits of Llewelyn family gossip. Despite Jack’s betrayal, she’d always remained close-mouthed about their relationship. Somehow she knew he would do the same for her.

Jack was not only known by the Delamere family but also apparently well-liked. It heartened her that he had some support at last. Jack’s own family kept in contact with him through their solicitors. His mother, whom Carys knew Jack had adored, never spoke of him at all.

After a correct half an hour, Carys took her leave with plans already agreed upon for a shopping expedition on the morrow. The duchess decided to walk her to the door. As they waited for the butler to procure a hackney, Carys was startled when the duchess laid a hand on her arm.

“I know that you do not like to speak of Jack, but if you are curious as to the kind of man he has become, you should speak to my brother, Michael Waterstone. Jack was his nurse for several months.” She glanced at the open door of the duke’s study. “If you can delay your departure, I know Michael would love to talk to you.”

Carys gazed at the duchess and then nodded. If she hoped to understand Jack at all and resolve their differences, Michael Waterstone might be her best source of information and her only hope.

DESPITE JACK BELLOWING like a drill sergeant, Gareth struggled to wake up. His mouth was open and his slightly panic-stricken bulging eyes completed the unedifying picture of a dying fish. Jack regarded him dispassionately; glad he’d finally managed to stop the snoring.

“Gareth, for the last time, I’ve had word from the duke. We need to be on our way. A carriage will be arriving for us at noon.” He shook Gareth’s shoulder. “I have to let Carys know. I don’t have time to linger by your bedside like a desperate man hoping for a last-minute legacy.”

After smacking his lips together and staring fixedly at Jack as if they’d never met, Gareth finally dragged himself up on one elbow, his nightcap askew on his red hair. “Deuce take it,” he complained, “it’s still dark.”

“It’s winter. It’s always dark. Now get up. I’ll return at noon.”

He let himself out of the quiet house and started the long trek back toward his lodgings. On impulse, he hailed a passing hackney, enjoying the freedom the duke’s money gave him. After packing his meager clothes and possessions, he wrote a note for Carys. On his way to the duke’s, he handed it to one of the boys loitering around Covent Garden and gave instructions as to its delivery.