Redeeming Jack (34 page)

Jack half-smiled. It seemed that all his problems were behind him. For the first time in many years, he would be able to walk freely in his own world. He tried to feel glad but his heart failed to rejoice, even though he knew he was doing the best he could for Carys. At least she would be free of the stigma of his disgrace.

Now he awaited the duke in his study to complete the final stage of his mission. He turned as the door opened and then smiled when he saw Michael Waterstone.

“Have you been waiting long, Jack?” Michael expertly maneuvered his wheelchair into the room, leaving the door ajar. “The duke and duchess have been out visiting this morning. I believe they will be back shortly.” Michael held out his hand, and Jack shook it.

“Not very long. I didn’t have an appointment with your illustrious employer, so I anticipated some delay.”

Michael placed a pile of papers on the duke’s already overflowing desk. “I must say, we were delighted when your friend, Richard Mansell, turned up with my mother. It was such a relief.”

Jack nodded. “It was a relief to me also. We almost lost her to the French.”

“Yes, Mansell told us the stirring tale.” Michael hesitated. “I was sorry to hear that your family became involved in the whole damnable business.”

“My family was already involved.” Jack turned back to the window and saw the duke’s carriage just moving off. A flash of color caught Jack’s eye in the reflection from the window and he swung around to see the duchess coming through into the study.

“Michael Waterstone, what on earth was our mother doing with the French?” The Duchess of Diable Delamere stormed into the room. She still wore her cloak and bonnet; her gray eyes snapped fire, forcibly reminding Jack of Carys. The duke appeared behind her in the doorway.

Michael tugged at his cravat and cast a hopeless glance at Jack. “Ah, Elizabeth. I didn’t realize you had returned. After you’ve taken off your outdoor things, I’d be delighted to—”

The duchess stood her ground. “Tell me the truth about mother, Michael. I knew something was going on, and the duke is being rather unhelpful.” She cast her husband a quelling glance, and he raised an eyebrow. “If we hadn’t happened to meet Mr. Gardiner today, I wouldn’t have known a thing.”

“Which was my original intent,” the duke murmured. “Perhaps, my dear, you would prefer to discuss the matter with me in the privacy of our suite?”

Jack cringed as the duchess glared at her husband. The duke’s tone would have terrified most men. It seemed to have little effect on his wife.

“Gervase…”

The duke straightened. “Ma’am. Fond of you as I am, I would prefer not to discuss our differences in public.”

Elizabeth seemed to register Jack’s presence for the first time. “But it’s only Jack.”

Jack suppressed a disastrous urge to laugh and headed for the door. “I will save you the trouble of dismissing me, Your Grace. I’ll return at a more convenient time.”

He passed the duchess, who remained staring at her husband. Without breaking her gaze, she put her hand on his arm.

“No, Jack. I’ll leave. As His Grace has so
properly
reminded me, some things are better left to the privacy of our own quarters.” Her voice shook as if she were fighting tears. “I apologize for embarrassing you all.”

She swept the duke a magnificent curtsey and headed for the open door into the gardens.

“Elizabeth.” The duke took a hasty step after her before he seemed to remember where he was. His cold eyes met Jack’s and for a second they shared a similar, wholly masculine sense of frustration.

The duke recovered first and took up a position behind the desk. His smile seemed forced and his gaze strayed constantly to the garden.

“It’s good to see you, Llewelyn. I can only add my thanks to Michael’s for the swift return of Mrs. Forester. You have done your country a great service. I’ll make sure that everyone knows of it.”

Jack bowed. “In helping you, Your Grace, I also managed to help myself.” He retrieved a roll of parchment from his coat pocket. “I’ve written a full account of Lord Oliver Rice’s version of the reasons behind the Spanish ambush.”

The duke took the proffered parchment and quickly read through the contents. He allowed the document to roll back up as he studied Jack. “I understand that Rice is missing. Do you know what happened to him?”

Jack cleared his throat, and the duke held up his hand. “May I suggest that you don’t know anything? Any suspicion that you had a hand in Rice’s death would not sit well with your peers. Better, perhaps, to leave his death an unexplained mystery.”

Jack nodded and held the duke’s uncompromising gaze. If his silence meant Carys would remain safe, he would do it.

“If this information is correct, Llewelyn, you won’t need my help in clearing your name after all.”

Jack smiled. “I’d hardly say that, Your Grace. But if you could send this document to the right authorities, I’m sure it would help my case.”

The duke held out his hand. “Consider it done. Now is there anything else I can help you with?”

Jack glanced out of the window, where he could just see the duchess furiously slashing at a defenseless hollyhock with her parasol. “There is one more thing, Your Grace. It concerns my wife.”

CARYS STARED UP at the magnificent front door of Delamere House. It was early in the morning, too early for a social call. She’d begged an overnight ride from the Llewelyns’ farm driver, who was bringing butter and cheese up to the kitchens in London. After listening to the man’s gossip, she was ready to scream.

Carys tried to shake out the creases in her crumpled skirts. She strongly suspected she smelled of ripe cheese. Would the duchess be pleased to see her in such disarray? And most importantly, would the duke know where to find Jack? Carys picked up her bag and went up the steps.

An imposing butler opened the door. Carys began to speak, but the man simply bowed and stepped aside.

“Good morning, my lady. Would you care to come through to the morning room?”

Carys closed her mouth with a snap and sailed through the door, as if she’d expected to be admitted without question. Jack had always said that beneath his harsh exterior, the duke lived a highly unorthodox life.

The butler led her into a small breakfast room at the back of the house. Both the duke and the duchess were seated at the table. A heavenly scent of ham, eggs and toast greeted Carys’s tired senses.

“Lady Jack Llewelyn, Your Grace.”

The duke looked up from his newspaper and got to his feet. “Good morning, Lady Jack. Would you care to join us?”

Surprised into silence at his casual acceptance of her presence, Carys took a seat near the smiling duchess. She allowed the duke to pour her a cup of coffee.

The duchess leaned forward and patted her hand. “Are you here to stay with me? I would welcome the company.”

Carys fought a blush. “I was hoping you would allow me to stay for a night, Your Grace, while I sort out some…family matters.”

The duke choked on his coffee, and the duchess frowned at him. She clasped Carys’s fingers. “You may stay as long as you like.” She gave the duke another pointed glance. “After all Jack has done for ‘this’ family, we are delighted to assist you, aren’t we, Your Grace?

The duke stared at his coffee as if it had suddenly become undrinkable. “Yes, indeed, my dear. You are more than welcome, my lady.” He dabbed his mouth with his napkin and rose to his feet. He bent to kiss his wife’s cheek and then turned to Carys. “If it is convenient, I would like to speak to you in my study later—say, at two o’clock? There are some matters I wish to discuss with you.”

The duke departed, leaving Carys and Elizabeth to stare at each other. Carys inwardly groaned as she registered the militant sparkle in the duchess’ eyes.

“Now Carys, I’m expecting you to tell me exactly what did happen when my mother escaped her guards.” Elizabeth glared after the departed duke. “His Grace thought he would manage the whole sordid business without bothering my pretty little head. I hate being treated like a child.” She pushed back her chair and helped Carys to her feet. “Come up into my sitting room, where we can be private. I’m dying to hear all the details the duke left out.”

* * *

As requested, Jack arrived at Delamere House as the clock struck two. Clouds darkened the sky, and the scent of rain hung heavily in the air. From the delicious smells that drifted through the black and white marbled hall, Jack guessed his hosts were still enjoying their lunch. Left alone in the duke’s study, he paused to study a set of official-looking documents on the desk. Was it possible that the duke had managed to arrange matters so quickly?

Jack turned as the duke appeared at the door. He bowed. “Your Grace? You sent for me?”

The duke ignored Jack’s question and came to sit at his desk. “The duchess and I had an unexpected visitor this morning.”

Jack stiffened. “Was it my father? Has he changed his mind about my attending the funeral?” He smoothed the sleeve of his new black coat. He’d already purchased garments suitable for mourning and intended to wear them in honor of his mother, regardless of his father’s decision.

“Unfortunately, no.” The duke looked regretful. “The visitor I refer to is your wife.”

Jack frowned. “Carys is here?”

The duke gave him a particularly infuriating smile. “Yes, indeed.” He glanced at the papers on his desk. “Now you will be able to explain your ridiculous decision to her in person.”

As if she’d been summoned, Carys appeared. She wore a gown cut in the latest fashion in a lilac color favored by the duchess. Her hair was neatly braided against her head. She looked nothing like the woman Jack had shared a bed with in Wales.

Jack bowed and tried to ignore his impulse to take her into his arms and kiss her unsmiling mouth. “Is something wrong at home?” he managed to ask. He couldn’t bring himself to ask if Owen was safe.

“Everyone is well, thank you.”

Thunder rumbled across the square outside, and rain hissed on the windowpanes. Carys gave the duke a quick glance but he remained at his desk, his gaze full of interest.

“Lady Jack, I understand from your husband that you were seeking a divorce.”

Color drained from Carys’s cheek and she nodded.

The duke pushed the packet of papers across the desk toward Jack, the scrape of stiff parchment loud in the silence. “As Lord Rice is ‘unable’ to furnish the capital to see the proceedings through, I have offered to do so myself. The process will still have to be dragged through all the necessary courts, both lay and ecclesiastical. But I can assure you that with my influence with the Prince Regent, and because of your recent service to your country, your application will be successful.”

Jack kept his gaze fixed on the documents as he picked them up. He only dared look at Carys when he placed them in her hands. “I will not stand in your way anymore. When you find a man worthy of you, I only wish you will choose a father for Owen with great care. He deserves a father he can respect.”

With that, he pressed the package in her cold hands and marched from the room. In his haste to leave, he forgot to pick up his new cloak and hat. Out in the square, the rain blew into his face, giving him an excuse for the sudden hot sting of tears. He stumbled toward the park in the center of the square and prayed for some privacy.

“Jack Llewelyn!”

Jack stopped.

“Jack Llewelyn—how dare you walk away from me
again
!”

He staggered as something hit him squarely on the back of the neck. It was the packet of divorce papers. He turned and found Carys, ten feet behind him, her hands on her hips, her expression furious.

She marched up to him and poked him in the ribs. “Do you think I am going to let you walk away like some idiotic hero in a medieval tale?”

Jack stared down at her. She’d neglected to put on her coat and bonnet. Her thin, rain-dampened gown clung to her shapely body. He pulled her under the protection of the overhanging trees. She shook his hand off her arm.

“Carys, I’m not good enough for you. I’m not good enough for Owen.”

She stamped her foot, soaking her thin kid slipper. “Stop being so noble! If I think you are good enough, despite what you have done to me, then you are definitely good enough for Owen.”

Jack tried again. “Everyone I love suffers because of me.”

Carys briefly shut her eyes, as if seeking prayerful advice from a higher authority. “Everyone suffers because of the choices they make. You can’t save everyone, Jack. You can’t blame yourself for everyone else’s mistakes.” Raindrops clung to her long eyelashes and she wiped impatiently at them. Her hair started to curl and rebel against the tight braids. “When we first married, I thought you were a hero. And when you left me, I couldn’t forgive you for being all too human.” She touched his cheek. “I’ve grown up now. You are still my hero, Jack, flaws and all. You are still the man I want to live out my life with.”

The lump in Jack’s throat grew until it almost choked him. He couldn’t speak as an absurd warmth spread through his chest. He spread his hands wide in a gesture of supplication. “I want you to be happy. Before you decide whether you want me back, remember, I’m still disinherited. I have no home to offer you and no gentlemanly occupation.”

“I already have a home and I’ve managed quite nicely without your aristocratic family’s interference.” Carys brought her chin up. “And as for employment, I suspect the duke would like to talk to you about that.”

Jack simply stared at her. She was willing to take him back? A sense of profound humility seized him. He sent up a heartfelt prayer of thanks to God.

As if seeking to convince him further, Carys grabbed his shoulders and brought his head down for a kiss. Heat flooded his senses and he forgot all about the rain dripping down his neck. When she let go, he could only gaze into her eyes and hope she could read the adoration in his.

“Just love me,” Carys whispered. “That’s all Owen needs, too. I know you are very good at that.”

A slow clapping sound made Jack look up. The duke and duchess stood at the bottom of the steps to their mansion, protected from the rain by an umbrella.