Barely a Lady (31 page)

“You remember?” Drake asked, his eyes lighting.

He shrugged. “Bits and pieces. You, certainly.”

“And you’re going to tell us what this is all about,” Lady Kate said from the doorway. “Why the head of Drake’s Rakes would be responding to an attack at my home?”

“Trojan horse,” Bea offered in a disapproving tone.

Lord Drake chuckled. “I’m afraid so, Lady Bea. I know you will keep this confidential, but I spend some of my time doing some small services for the Crown. Jack has been helping.”

Lady Kate frowned. “In France.”

“When needed. Some of us weren’t lucky enough to don a uniform. We do what we can.”

“I assume you know what Jack was doing there,” she said.

Marcus smiled. “In fact, I do. I’m the one who sent him.”

Olivia scowled. “And you couldn’t have told us before now?”

Jack found he could grin. “How could he, Liv?”

Drake nodded. “Until you contacted Braxton here, we didn’t even know that Gracechurch had survived. We lost contact with him a good four months ago.” He flashed Jack a grin. “Good to see you, old man.”

“I was in prison.” Jack stopped, overwhelmed suddenly by that memory of cold. Of hunger. Of desperation. “They caught me when Mimi was killed.”

Lightning sheared through his head, and his stomach lurched. He so wished he could regain his memories all in a lump instead of this haphazard fashion. It would save so much time and discomfort. And he could get on with making amends with Liv.

“Oh, Jack,” Livvie murmured, looking sincerely distressed. “Prison. And after all that, you were too late. Napoleon was defeated without you.”

“I did escape in time to intercept those dispatches,” he said. “But it wasn’t really Napoleon I was trying to stop.”

Drake stiffened. “I beg your pardon?”

This time Jack did smile. “You’ve been looking the wrong way, old man.”

Lady Kate shook her head. “My, you do make up for lost time. Just think of all the effort we could have saved if we’d just told you the truth right away.”

All Jack could think was that if they had, he would have had no time at all with his Livvie.

“I believe you need to explain,” Marcus said.

Jack tamped down a flash of irritation. “Can’t this wait?” he demanded. “Livvie needs to be taken care of.”

Truly, he just wanted to shove everyone else out of the room so he could talk with her. Hold her. Beg her forgiveness.

It was ironic, really. He’d devoted almost four years to collecting this very information. He’d suffered jail for it, torture, isolation, the deaths of those around him. And right now he couldn’t care less. He just wanted to make Livvie understand that he would do anything to redeem himself in her eyes.

Olivia lurched up into a sitting position. “You try leaving, Jack Wyndham,” she warned, poking a finger in his chest, “and I’ll personally drag you to the floor and sit on you. If anyone has a right to the truth, it is we four.”

Jack went right back down on his knees next to her. “You’re going to hurt yourself, Livvie. Lie down.”

Her glare should have frozen him. “Not until we know exactly what you’ve been up to.”

Marcus considered the usually calm Olivia. “It’s actually very simple,” he said, flipping the tails of his coat as he took one of the Sheraton chairs. “Jack has spent the last few years infiltrating the highest levels of French society in an effort to uncover the English traitors who have been aiding Napoleon.”

Olivia nodded graciously. “Thank you.”

Now Jack stared at her. “You don’t seem surprised.”

“Of course not.” She didn’t look at him. She didn’t pull her hand away either. “I was only afraid you’d be accused of treason before you could prove your innocence.”

Trust.

Jack swallowed his shame. He looked at her battered face, at the locket that symbolized every hurt he’d served her, and he couldn’t understand how she could still believe in him.

Why didn’t she batter at him? Why didn’t she pour vitriol over his head, as he deserved? Even when she’d faced him up in his bedroom, she’d kept such an icy control. Where was her rage?

And now she faced him without a hint of doubt in her eyes.

“I don’t deserve you,” he said.

“No, you don’t,” all four women answered at once.

He couldn’t help smiling. He noticed that Livvie didn’t answer. But she didn’t turn away.

“Is that what the list is?” she asked him, as if he hadn’t spoken at all. “The traitors?”

God, he wanted to kiss her. He wanted to fold her up into his arms and carry her away where they could be alone. “Yes,” he said instead, because that was what she wanted. “They call themselves the Lions. The British Lions. But they weren’t working for Napoleon. He was just a tool. The Lions have far bigger plans.”

“Than
Napoleon
?” Drake demanded.

“I had trouble believing it too. But the proof was irrefutable. These Englishmen seek to overthrow the throne.”

“God’s teeth,” Marcus breathed. “Why?”

Jack opened his mouth, but there were no words. His memory had just slammed shut again. He didn’t know whether to feel frustrated or frantic.

All he could do was shake his head. “I don’t know. I know it will come to me. They tried to recruit me, after all. I just know that they’re extremely well organized. And they probably considered Waterloo no more than a setback.”

Marcus was looking far less sanguine. “And you have a list of their members?”

“As complete as I could under the circumstances. I hid them where no one would think to look.” He turned to Livvie. “No, Liv. Not the dispatch bag. That was just a serendipitous opportunity to help disrupt the French. I was still in a French uniform when you found me, though, yes?”

Now it was Olivia’s turn to look distressed. “Yes. Why?”

“I sewed the list into my jacket lining. Unless you ripped it up for bandages, it should still be there.”

“I’m sure it is,” she said, her voice suddenly sounding small. “Right next to Château Hougoumont, where we found you.”

He could almost hear the sigh of disappointment in the room.

“I’m so sorry,” Livvie whispered, and he knew she was devastated.

So he reclaimed her hand. “Oh, Liv. How can you apologize to me? You saved my life. You made it possible for me to warn the government. I can’t imagine you would have had much luck carting me through British lines in that coat. Besides, I’ll remember the names. I spent too long collecting them to forget for long.”

Drake nodded briskly and clapped his hands. “In that case, we’ll be off, shall we, Jack? We have work to do.”

Jack climbed slowly to his feet again. “No.”

Drake frowned. “National security, my son.”

“Can wait until I have a few moments with my wife.”

“No, Jack,” Olivia demurred. “Really.”

He turned to see outright fear in her eyes. “They’ll wait, Liv.”

She looked, if possible, paler.

“See us off, then, will you?” Drake asked. “We’ll take your prisoner with us. Braxton will bring you along later.”

Jack didn’t waste his time on his superior. He brought Livvie’s hand to his lips. “I won’t be long.”

He wasn’t entirely sure she’d still be there when he returned.

Exhausted beyond bearing, Olivia lay back down and closed her eyes. Her face felt as if it had been stretched and set afire. Her head throbbed, and several of her ribs protested breathing. And she knew that tomorrow she’d feel worse.

Jack was remembering. That was good. He had taken control of the situation like a leader born. He’d saved her life.

And still she hesitated to tell him the truth.

She’d held it to herself for so long. She’d had to, locking and double-locking her little Jamie behind impenetrable walls in her mind so that she could keep him safe. So she could open her eyes each day without wanting to die.

It was so hard to let go of that caution. Gervaise was still close by. Jack’s family would want their heir more than ever, and they had proved even more ruthless than Gervaise. Could she trust Jack to act any differently?

She had to. Those long, terrible moments in the garden had made her see that. She had to believe that he would protect her child as fiercely as she did. She had to hope he could love his little boy half as much.

But she was still so afraid. She couldn’t seem to make the tears stop.

“Olivia?”

Jack. She took a breath and opened her eyes to discover that everyone else had deserted her. Jack settled himself next to her on the couch and reclaimed her hand. He looked as stretched as she felt and was moving stiffly.

“Are you all right?” she asked.

His quick smile unsettled her. “I’m fine. Will you talk with me?”

She studied his face and saw how tormented he was. She knew she had to finish their conversation. She just wasn’t sure she had the strength.

“We can continue later, if you want,” he offered, and bent to wipe her tears with his handkerchief.

She closed her eyes. “I might not have the courage later.”

She wanted to run away. She was so afraid, and the familiar comfort of having her hand in Jack’s was only making it worse.

Don’t leave me
.

She stiffened, hearing the sobbed words again in her head. She had run after him. She’d grabbed at his coat, only to be thrown off. She had begged and pleaded and negotiated, offering anything if he’d just listen to her.

She had only humiliated herself.

She was stronger than that now. Wasn’t she?

“May I put your locket back on for you?” he asked quietly.

Tears scalded her throat. She nodded. She unclenched her hand and felt him lift the locket away. She waited to feel it around her neck. Instead she heard a
snick
.

She lurched upright. “Don’t…”

But it was too late. He was already staring down at the open locket.

She wanted to snatch it back. She wanted to scream at him, to hold that precious image close against her heart where she’d kept it so carefully for these last years.

“Is this me?” he asked, running his finger down the tiny miniature that lay beneath the curl of sable hair.

She saw the impish light painted into those huge sea-green eyes, the way that wispy mahogany hair curled over his little head. She felt her heart break all over again.

No box was strong enough to save her from that kind of pain.

“No, Jack. It isn’t you.”

He looked up at her, and there were tears in his eyes. “Is it Jamie?”

She lost her breath entirely. “You heard me.”

“You weren’t ever going to tell me.” He looked so hurt.

“You wouldn’t have believed me.”

She saw the shaft pierce home. “He looks just like me at that age,” he said, sounding awed.

She moved a bit away from him and braced her feet on the floor. “I know,” she said, turning away. Testing him again. “It’s why your father tried to take him from me. It’s why Gervaise tried to murder him.”

She said it deliberately, daring him to scoff. Wanting her hopeless wishing to be over once and for all.

“Why would Gervaise hurt a baby?” he asked, but it didn’t sound as if he doubted her. It sounded as if he were appalled.

She couldn’t help the hard smile. “Because he saw Jamie. He knew that the minute you saw him, you’d know the truth and accept him as your son.”

As if in pain, he drew a ragged breath. “Do you think I wouldn’t have?”

She shrugged. “How could I know, Jack? Would you have believed me if you hadn’t seen the proof?”

He bent his head, both hands now holding on to hers. “You have every right to doubt me,” he said. “But I did believe you. Finally.” When he raised his head, she saw the grief in his eyes. “God, Livvie, can you ever forgive me?”

She felt so utterly weary. “I already did, Jack.”

He gave her a tentative smile. “Will you take me back?”

She could only stare at him. She didn’t want to hurt him. She never had. But she didn’t know how many more times she could face devastation.

“Why?”

He looked surprised. “Because I love you.”

She shrugged. “You loved me before.”

She saw the impact of her words and would have once apologized. She couldn’t now. There was far more at stake now than ever before. And she was much, much harder. She’d had to be.

“I was wrong to ever doubt you,” he said. “I will never be able to atone for that. But let me try. Let us try together.”

She looked up at his dear, funny face, and she saw the sincerity shining in his eyes. The remorse and regret. She knew he meant every word. Now.

“Last time, I lost only you,” she said. “But if you left again, you could take my child. You could decide that anything I’ve done in the last five years makes me an unworthy mother and keep me from ever seeing him, and I would have no recourse. Worse, you could let Gervaise close enough to him to finally kill him. He’s tried twice already, you know.” She shook her head, all that old pain bubbling up again. “I might survive losing you again, Jack. After all, I have before. But I would never survive losing my Jamie.”