Redeeming Jack (30 page)

“If you shoot me, you’ll never know, will you?” Rice flicked his cloak to one side to reveal his own pistol, pointed straight at Carys. “I’ll tell her where he is if you stay behind with me.”

Jack didn’t alter his stance. “Why this sudden interest in my demise? I’ve already agreed to divorce her so that you can marry her. Why would you want to kill me?”

Rice’s dark face contorted. “You know why. You murdered my brother.”

Carys shook her head. “That’s not true. Jack is gathering evidence to prove his innocent.”

“Be silent,” Rice snarled. “That’s ridiculous.”

Jack went still; the wind died, as if the whole island listened avidly to their conversation.

Blood red, seeping through blinding white. David Rice screaming his last words,
“
I’m sorry, Jack. I can’t do it. I’m sorry for what I did.”

He lowered his pistol. His hand shook too much for him to aim with any conviction. “If I shared new information, you still wouldn’t let me live, would you?”

Rice took a step back. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Jack slipped his pistol behind him and Carys took it. He advanced onto the bridge. “What did David do, Rice? Why is it so important to you that I remain in disgrace or preferably dead?”

Oliver jerked his arm up and swung the pistol toward Jack. Forcing himself not to look down into the swirling seething sea beneath him, Jack hurled himself at Rice. He went in low and took Rice down.

A pistol went off close to his ear, deafening at such close range. His left arm blazed with searing heat but he refused to let go of his struggling captive. His superior weight and ungentlemanly fighting skills helped him pin Rice to the ground. Carys appeared beside him, the pistol steady in her hands.

Jack stared into Rice’s dark anguished eyes. “What did your brother do?” He spoke softly, but Rice seemed to sense the menace behind his words. Rice darted a look at Carys but obviously received no encouragement. Jack reached down and withdrew his hunting knife from his boot.

Rice winced as Jack pressed the sharp blade to his throat. “David should never have become a soldier. He hated it. Father forced him into the army after David lost several large sums of money at the gaming tables.”

Jack nodded. “He was always in debt when I knew him. He even tried to borrow from me.” Jack smiled, and Rice shuddered.

“Before he died, David wrote to me and said he’d found a way to earn a great deal of money.” Rice looked exhausted, his expression turned inward. “He spent many pages justifying his actions, but I could tell he was up to something illegal.”

“Like selling information to the French.” Jack glanced up at Carys, a bitter taste in his mouth. “Do you remember me saying that David seemed almost relieved to die? Perhaps I was right after all.” He angled the tip of the knife into Rice’s neck until he pierced the skin. “Why didn’t you stop him? Why didn’t you tell him that his actions would cause an untold number of deaths?”

Rice swallowed hard, his gaze not quite meeting Jack’s. “I didn’t receive his last letter until after he’d been killed. I didn’t want to believe that my brother could be so stupid.”

Jack closed his eyes for a brief moment to subdue his primitive desire to plunge the knife deep. David Rice was already dead. Killing Oliver wouldn’t change anything. “I’m sure you were delighted when all the blame fell on me. It didn’t occur to you to speak up for me, did it? Far easier to let me take the blame and let David remain a hero.”

Rice grimaced. “I intended to make amends. I vowed that after your death, I would marry your widow and raise your son as my own. But you refused to die.”

Jack gave an unwilling crack of laughter as he caught a glimpse of Carys’s furious expression. She would not enjoy being seen as a victim who required rescuing. He thought back over the last five years. He’d dealt with his fair share of pickpockets, tavern fights and dangerous encounters with strangers. Was Rice suggesting that not all of them had been random acts of violence? “You and your mother were staying at the Mansell’s house when Gareth was shot.”

“Yes. Unfortunately, Davies got in the way. I was aiming for you.”

Jack shifted his weight and tried to ease the atrocious ache in his left shoulder. “I apologize for not obliging you by dying. When I have you safely back on shore I’ll expect a written confession. Now where is Owen?”

Rice shifted violently to his right, brought his leg up and kicked Jack in the left arm. With a groan, Jack fell backwards and pain exploded through his body. Carys screamed as Rice locked an arm around her knees and brought her crashing to the ground. The pistol went off harmlessly into the air. A crowd of gulls rose overhead, blotting out the sun, shrieking their displeasure.

Jack grabbed a tuft of grass, his boots scrabbling for purchase on the uneven sloping rock close to the cliff edge. By the time he righted himself, Rice had Carys in his grasp, his expression defiant.

“I’ll not confess a thing for your benefit, Llewelyn. Owen is in safe hands. If I do not return before sunset, my accomplice will kill the boy.”

Carys’s cry was stifled by Rice’s hand over her mouth.

Jack came up on one knee. “Who has Owen then?”

Rice smiled. “Don’t you know how much your family hates you, Jack?”

The realization that his family was involved hardly surprised Jack. After finding out that Rice was mixed up in the business, he’d lost the capacity to be shocked.

“If I stay with you, will you let Carys go and retrieve her son?”

Rice urged Carys to her feet. “You are going to stay here. I will take her to her son. After a night spent alone with your thoughts on the Worm, you’ll be an easy target for my marksman when you cross the causeway alone. Everyone will think you made a mistake with the tides and got swept away.”

Jack carefully bent his left elbow and balanced his forearm on his raised knee. Black spots and sparks invaded the corners of his vision as he struggled against the all-encompassing pain. He met Carys’s eyes, looked down at the knife concealed in his right hand.

With savage satisfaction, he watched her teeth sink into Rice’s hand. Rice swore and jerked his hand up. Carys threw herself away from Rice as Jack flung his knife.

Rice grunted and clutched his stomach but didn’t fall. He lunged toward Jack, his face wild. The last thing Jack remembered was Rice’s boot connecting with his skull, and then everything went black.

CARYS TRIED TO break free and run to Jack as he rolled down the other side of the grassy bank, but Oliver caught her arm. He hauled her back against his side. He was panting, his face pale.

“Leave him. He doesn’t deserve your help. Do you want me to take you to Owen or not?”

Carys pressed her trembling fingers to her mouth. What if Jack didn’t regain consciousness? Oliver shook her so hard she bit her tongue.

“If you don’t make up your mind, I’ll make it up for you, and kick Llewelyn over the side.” He lurched toward Jack, his intentions clear on his face.

This time it was Carys who held him back. “Oliver, stop. I’ll come with you.”

Oliver fixed his gaze on Jack, who lay face-down in the grass. He stared out to sea and spoke almost to himself. “Better if he’s seen dying when he attempts to cross the causeway. I’ve already arranged witnesses for that. More questions will be asked if he simply goes missing.”

Carys stifled a moan when he turned back to her. His familiar pleasant expression had disappeared, leaving her with a stranger. Sweat beaded his upper lip and his dark eyes were glazed with pain.

“Before we leave, I’ll have to get this damn knife out.”

Carys could see the handle of Jack’s knife sticking out from the right side of Oliver’s waistcoat. He cursed trying to maintain his grip on her and reach the handle at the same time.

“You’ll have to do it for me.” He slid his hand up her arm and dug his fingers into her braided hair. “Don’t try and do anything clever, Carys. Remember, I still have Owen.”

As slowly as she could, she curved her hand around the blood-splashed bone handle. She set her teeth and drew the blade outwards. A spurt of warm blood covered her fingers.

Oliver staggered against her. He pressed his hand to the wound and motioned at Jack. “Take his shirt off and make me a bandage. Quickly!”

While she worked the shirt out of Jack’s breeches, Carys checked him for signs of life. His chest rose and fell beneath her anxious gaze. She almost cried out when he grimaced and then winked at her. She used the knife to cut a thick pad and several long strips from the tough linen fabric. She slid the makeshift pad under Oliver’s shirt and bound it with the strips of fabric.

Oliver waited impatiently for her to tend to the wound, his fingers drumming on his thigh.

“You’ve lost a lot of blood. Are you sure you are able to make it back to the mainland?” Carys asked, not daring to meet his gaze, afraid he might see the hatred behind her eyes.

Oliver laughed. “My dear lady, are you concerned for my welfare?” He raised her chin until she was forced up onto her toes. “Or are you simply concerned for your son?” He stared at her mouth. “I was looking forward to having you as my wife. You would’ve been a fitting penance for my sins.”

Something in her expression must have betrayed her disbelief.

“I do have some standards, you know. Despite David’s…mistake, I refuse to benefit from it. By marrying you, I would remove myself from the temptations of political office.”

Carys regained her voice. “Are you saying you
wanted
to destroy your chances for a political career and a social life?”

He looked more like his old self when he answered. “Not quite. At first, people might be shocked by my choice, but eventually everyone would think well of me for rescuing a widowed child and her unwanted son from disgrace and penury. In time, I would be accepted back into society—you, of course, would remain a social outcast.”

“And I would always be known as the shameless hussy who brought a good man to his knees. How very clever of you, Oliver.” Carys jerked the last bandage in place and stepped back. “Will you take me to Owen now?”

He brushed her mouth with his lips. “I would’ve taken very good care of you and Owen if you hadn’t allowed Llewelyn back into your bed. Remember that.”

Carys fought an urge to scrub her skin. Oliver’s mouth was cold, his skin clammy. It was possible he wouldn’t be able to manage the arduous journey back across to the mainland. What would happen to Owen then?

Oliver pushed her in the back, and Carys walked carefully across Devil’s Bridge. She hoped Oliver hadn’t noticed she’d kept the knife.

“What will happen to my son if you don’t appear back on shore before the tide turns?”

Oliver gave a short laugh that turned into a gasping cough. “I told you. My partner will kill him.”

Carys fought the onrush of tears. “Why? Owen has never done anything to you. He idolizes you.”

“Dammit, Carys, it’s unfortunate but it was part of the deal. I wanted Jack, and my partner in crime wanted Owen. You might say it was a match made in heaven.”

Carys tightened her grip on the knife concealed in her pocket. How dare he speak of her son as if he were as worthless as an unwanted puppy? She worked her way across the jagged stones between Outer Head and Low Neck. Oliver remained behind her. She heard him curse under his breath as his boots slipped and slithered on the uneven surface.

Was it her imagination, or was the sound of the sea getting louder? She pictured the waves gathering to throw their might across the causeway, obliterating anything in their path as they met over the sea bed.

She hesitated as they reached Inner Head and tried to look back and see if there was any sign of Jack. All she was aware of was Oliver’s dark presence, his tortured breathing and a sense of fear and helplessness that threatened to choke her.

To her relief, the causeway remained visible. She started to scramble down the rugged cliff face, glad she’d borrowed Gareth’s clothes, wondering how any woman would manage the climb in skirts.

“Wait here.”

His harsh command surprised her. She sat down abruptly on the nearest rock. He pulled an eye glass from his pocket and angled it at the sun. After a while, Carys saw an answering flash from the shoreline.

Oliver gave a satisfied grunt. “My partner will move the boy to Saint Iltyd’s church by Oxwich Manor now that he knows I’m safe. Do you know it?”

Carys nodded. “You said that your accomplice wanted to kill Owen. Why should I believe you will allow me to take him home?”

Oliver pressed his fingers to his side. His gaze became distracted, his eyes half-closed. “I don’t think the Llewelyns really want to murder the lad. They just wish to negotiate with you. A bird in the hand, and all that.”

Carys stood up and brushed off her breeches. “Do the Llewelyns also know that you plan to kill Jack?”

He grabbed her shoulder and hauled himself upright. “Of course they do. With Jack out of the way, we all benefit. David remains a hero, Owen is reunited with his aristocratic family…”

“And what about me? What role am I supposed to play in this farce?”

“I haven’t quite decided yet. When I first saw you hand in hand with Jack, I thought I wanted to kill you as well. But I find, to my astonishment, that over the years I have developed some affection for you. If I marry you, you cannot testify against me in a court of law.” He patted her cheek. “And I will keep you so close that you’ll never be able to break free of me again.”

His lips collided with hers and he tried to force his tongue into her mouth. Carys gritted her teeth. Gathering her strength, she pushed him hard on the chest.

With an outraged shout, he fell backwards. His outstretched hand caught Carys’s coat and brought her crashing down with him. Carys screamed as the green grass, grey sky and blue sea revolved in a meaningless blur until she lost all sense of direction.

When she opened her eyes, she lay half beneath Oliver. Blood stained the rock pool beside his head and his eyes were closed. She felt for his heartbeat and heard it faintly beneath her palm. When she tried to lever herself off him, she almost screamed.