Redeeming Jack (32 page)

He felt a shudder run through Carys and squeezed her hand tight. Robert took a step back and licked his lips.

“Where is Owen?” Carys’s quiet question seemed to take Robert by surprise.

“I have him safe by.”

“Where, exactly?” Jack asked.

Robert’s hand clenched on the pistol. “I’m not going to tell you. Why do you always spoil my plans? After you left in disgrace, the family seemed to go into mourning. No one cared about me. No one cared if I drank myself to death or gambled away my fortune…”

“Or stole mine.” Jack interrupted as Robert’s tirade took on a self-pitying whine. “When did you decide to help yourself to the money our mother left me?”

Robert looked put upon. “I knew this would happen if you ever came back home. I
needed
that money to pay my debts. You didn’t even know it existed until now. You can’t miss what you’ve never had.”

Jack breathed out hard. “I’d also forgotten that you and David Rice were at school together. What made you throw in your lot with him?”

Robert fidgeted with his collar. “I loved David, Jack. I
loved
him, and you got him killed. How could you ever understand that? I offered to help Oliver Rice make sure you never cleared your name. You always win at everything.”

“David was a fool. He didn’t realize until the last second that his so-called-allies weren’t going to let him live either.”

Robert wiped hastily at his eyes. “ Damn you. Stop making it sound like you are a hero or something. You don’t deserve to be alive, and you certainly didn’t deserve that money.” Robert looked pleadingly at Carys. “I don’t want to hurt Owen. I’ve always liked you. It’s Jack who causes the problems.”

Jack felt her stiffen beside him. “Then give me back my son and sort out your ‘problems’ with Jack like a gentleman. I’m sure he’ll be happy to work out a solution with you.”

Jack tensed as Robert shook his head.

“I can’t do that. Jack was supposed to die years ago when I instigated the duel with Gareth.” Robert frowned and readjusted his grip on the pistol. “If only he’d killed your brother as I expected him to, and not merely winged him and walked away.”

Jack stared at Robert with horrified fascination. Why hadn’t he realized that beneath his brother’s apparent amiability lay a streak of ruthlessness that mirrored their father’s? Anger coiled in his stomach and fed the anticipation he usually experienced before a battle. Distantly, he watched his hands start to shake with it. “Have you always hated me?”

Robert looked aggrieved. “You’ve done everything you ever wanted. You’ve walked away from all your responsibilities, while I’ve been left behind to act as a whipping boy for our parents. Because you slipped the traces, father’s kept me so under his thumb that I’ve had no opportunity to live the life I want to lead. It’s all your fault.”

Jack felt a sense of weariness fall over him. Had his absence changed Robert’s life so drastically, or would the seeds of Robert’s discontent have grown anyway? He struggled to make some sense out of the disastrous day. Sometimes it seemed that everyone he touched suffered.

“Robert, where is Owen?” He kept his tone pleasant, aware of the heavy pistol wavering in Robert’s hand. He knew from bitter experience how hard it was to hold a gun steady for so long. “Give Carys the boy and let her leave. She has done nothing to you.”

Robert cast a hasty glance over his shoulder in the direction of the vestry. “I can’t do that. Father promised me that if I gave him the boy, he’d pay off my debts and let me start with a clean slate.”

Jack nudged Carys in an attempt to persuade her to move toward the vestry while he drew Robert’s attention.

“So you’ll let the boy live if you can find the guts to kill me, is that it?” Jack took a deliberate step toward Robert, shielding Carys in the process. “Have you ever killed a man at point-blank range? It’s not that easy when you can see their eyes.”

He kept moving forward; his brother’s horrified gaze remained fixed on him even as he tried to back away.

Consumed by rage and oblivious to the danger, Jack continued to close the gap between them. “You have no idea how it feels to have a man’s brains splattered all over you, do you?”

Robert gasped as Jack reached him and ripped the pistol from his grasp. He laid it on the stone altar. Jack grabbed Robert by the lapels of his coat and backed him violently against the wall.

“I’ll give you one last chance to tell me the truth. Where the hell is Owen?”

“I have him.”

Jack stilled at the sound of his father’s voice. Without releasing Robert, he turned his head to see the duke framed in the vestry door, a small boy pressed close to his side.

“I should have known you’d have your fingers in this pie somewhere, sir.” He dug his fingers into Robert’s neck cloth and spun him around to face his sire. He withdrew his knife from his pocket and laid it against Robert’s cheek. “How about an exchange? Your son for mine.”

His father’s dry laugh split the dank silence. “Jack, you really are amusing. Do you truly believe I care what happens to Robert? He has always been such a disappointment to me.”

Robert shuddered in Jack’s grasp and for a heartbeat, Jack almost felt sorry for him.

“What do you want with my son?”

The duke laid a possessive hand on the gagged boy’s shoulder. “I want to raise him as befits a duke’s grandchild. You should be grateful to me for recognizing him, not fighting with me.”

Jack looked around for Carys but couldn’t see her. Had his father knocked her out when she’d attempted to enter the vestry? “His mother is doing a fine job of raising him herself. Why would he need you?”

Again, the rustling laugh that made Jack want to puke. “Come now. You cannot wish your son to be raised in a hovel by a woman who probably whispers hatred of the Llewelyn’s into his precious ears at every opportunity.”

Jack stared into his father’s eyes, uncomfortably aware of how alike they were. “What do you want? I have to assume you organized this entire charade in order to gain something. What is it?”

Jack sensed movement directly behind him. Was it Carys or someone connected to his father?

“You overestimate my power. On this occasion I knew nothing of Robert’s pathetic attempts to murder you.” He flicked Robert a contemptuous glance. “However, he was eager to share the details of Rice’s little plan with me when I offered to pay off some of his debts. I only became truly involved when your dear wife decided to ask you to divorce her. I couldn’t allow her to take my only living grandson away from me.”

“And you will not take him now.” Carys pushed in front of Jack, grabbed Robert’s pistol from the altar and pointed it at the duke. “I’ve had enough of this. Let Owen go, or I will shoot you.”

Jack glanced at his father. “Perhaps I should mention that she’s a damned fine shot, sir. I taught her myself.”

“Don’t be stupid, Jack. She’s a woman. She’ll never shoot me while her child stands so close.”

Carys started to hum an old nursery rhyme. Owen’s head came up. It took Jack a startled moment to realize exactly what Carys was trying to do.

“Atishoo, atishoo, we all fall down!”

Owen dropped to the floor and rolled out of the duke’s path. While the duke cursed, Jack punched Robert in the chin and let him slide to the ground. Carys passed him the pistol and then ran to find Owen, who had scuttled away into the pews.

Jack faced his father again. “It appears you have lost the advantage, sir.”

The duke bowed and stepped farther into the church. He studied Jack, his gaze disinterested, as if he contemplated the cracked tiles beneath his feet. “It appears you are correct.” He shrugged. “Outwitted by a country lass and a four-year-old.”

Jack waved his pistol at the main door. “Perhaps you’ll leave before I give in to my baser instincts. I don’t feel much familial respect for you or my brother at the moment.”

The duke stepped over Robert as if he were an inconvenient rut in the road. “You’ll be back, Jack. You’ll need my help if you want to reenter society.”

Jack bowed. “I’d rather turn this gun on myself than ask for your help. Shouldn’t you be getting back to your wife? I should imagine she would welcome your company in her hour of need.”

“Ah. Haven’t you heard?” The duke turned at the door, his expression full of unrestrained malice. “My dear wife passed away yesterday. I’m sure you won’t be expecting an invitation to the funeral.”

Jack leaned back up against the stone altar, suddenly glad of the support as his father shut the door with deliberate care. He studied Robert’s unconscious form and then located Carys and her son kneeling together on the floor.

She met his gaze, her eyes full of compassion. “Jack…”

He un-cocked the pistol and placed it on the center of the altar. “I’m going to check outside and make sure that my father has left.”

He retreated through the damp vestry into the woodland and found himself engulfed by darkness. His vision blurred and his throat grew tight. The steady beat of the sea and the scurrying winds seemed to sing a mourning song for him as he stared desperately into the night.

His mother was dead.

“THAT OLD MAN said he was my grandfather, but he’s not, is he?”

Carys stared after Jack as Owen tugged her sleeve.

“Mama, what’s a grandfather? Is it like Granpapa Davies? Is it someone scary? ‘Cos that man was scary. His eyes were like that dead fish me and Sammy found on the beach last week.” Owen pointed a grubby finger at Robert, who struggled to sit up on the tiled floor. “That’s my Uncle Robert. I know what an uncle is. He was nice to me when I was sick from eating too much cake.”

Carys ignored Owen’s questions as she continued to feel him all over. He didn’t seem injured or alarmed, despite his adventures. She smoothed his thick hair away from his face and smiled, holding back her tears. “Owen,
bach
, it is good to see you. Did you have an exciting adventure?”

He grinned at her, his face a miniature replica of Jack’s. “Uncle Robert said it was a game and that we had to keep hidden from you.” His smile faded. “It was fun until the other man came. He was scary.”

Carys gathered him into her arms and hugged him tight. His small solid weight, the familiar sight and smell of him overwhelmed her. She allowed her tears to fall unseen against his shoulder. When she released him, her face was composed.

She set the overturned lamp back on the altar. “Come,
bach
. We have to help Jack tidy up the church before we go.”

Owen stared at the vestry door. “Was Jack the man with the angry face? Doesn’t he like us, mama?”

Carys patted his cheek. “He likes us. Don’t ever doubt it.”

Robert came up on his knees and tried to lever himself off the floor. Carys kicked him hard in the shins and he crumpled back down again with a groan. She glanced uncertainly down the aisle. Should she go and find Jack? What was she supposed to do if the duke reappeared or Robert decided to take off?

As if in answer to her questions, Jack returned. From the grim set of his mouth and a certain redness around his eyes, Carys guessed he’d been crying.

He nodded to her as he approached. “I’ll deal with Robert. If you want to take Owen home, you can use one of the horses.”

His flat statement surprised her. Part of her wanted to go to him and offer him comfort. Something about his cool demeanor and the way he avoided her gaze kept her riveted to the spot.

“Mama, he still looks angry. Are you sure he likes us?”

Owen’s loud whisper made Jack swing around. Carys held her breath.

Jack went still and gazed at Owen, as if mesmerized. He dropped down onto one knee and cleared his throat. “I’m not angry with you or your mother. I’m angry with my family. They treated you abominably.”

Owen took a step toward Jack and shook his head. “I don’t know what ‘abomdibly’ means, but Uncle Robert was nice. Even when I was sick all over him. I didn’t like the old man though. He was scary.” He put his head to one side and studied Jack. “He looked a bit like you.”

Jack reached out a shaky hand and brushed Owen’s thick blond hair out of his brown eyes. “I’m sorry you were sick. Everything will be all right now. Your mother can take you home.”

Owen’s face crumpled. “It’s boring there. Nothing ever happens. I want to stay and help you tidy up.” He glanced innocently back at Carys. “Mama said I could.”

Carys met Jack’s stunned gaze over the top of Owen’s head. She was humbled that despite his obvious surprise, he had kept his promise and not identified himself as Owen’s father.

After a last lingering glance at Owen, Jack got to his feet. He walked across to Carys, his eyes guarded, his jaw set in a firm line.

Carys lowered her voice. “What are we going to do with Robert?”

Jack tore his gaze away from Owen. “I’m not sure. I should imagine that the Duke of Diable Delamere will want to question him about his involvement with Oliver Rice.” He ran a hand through his hair. “I will have to take him back to London with me.”

Unable to stop herself, Carys stroked his unshaven cheek with her fingertip. “We can rent a carriage. We’ll take Robert to the vicarage for the night and set off tomorrow.”

He grasped her wrist and stopped the tentative movements of her fingers. “You won’t be doing anything. I’ll take him to London by myself.”

She gazed into his shuttered brown eyes and saw his refusal already formed. “You expect me to go home, twiddle my thumbs and wait for you to return?”

His grip tightened on her wrist. “I expect you to go home and look after your son.”

Robert groaned and sat up, one wary eye on Carys. His bloodshot gaze fixed on Jack. “Where’s my father? What have you done to me?”

Jack picked up the gag Carys had taken off Owen and advanced on his brother. “Father left you to my tender mercies. What else did you expect?” He tied Robert’s hands in front of him and yanked him to his feet. “You’ll be able to ride a horse, won’t you? Otherwise I’ll make you walk.”

Carys took Owen’s small hand and followed Jack and his brother out into the night. Stars gleamed in the dark blue sky and a full moon graced the treetops. The familiar murmur of the sea lulled her tired senses as she stumbled to keep her balance.