To Surrender to a Rogue (22 page)

"How did you guess?"

Jack's expression turned a little sheepish. "I happened to overhear the two of you talking the other day—quite by accident, I might ado'—while I was working by the outer walls. I only caught snatches of the conversation, but it made me suspicious that something sinister was afoot It also explained why you had been looking so tense. So I decided to keep an eye on you, and learn what you were up to." His jaw hardened. "After I thrash Bellazoni to a pulp, I'll see he is handed over to the authorities and expelled from the country—"

"No!" she exclaimed. "I've not yet told you the worst It's not just me he's threatened. I would never, ever have agreed to help him on my own account" Alessandra couldn't keep her voice from cracking. "But you see, he's threatened to harm Isabella if I don't cooperate. He claims he is not alone here in England, and I dare not call his bluff. He's killed before."

"He threatened Isabella?" Jack's dark face looked carved out of stone.

"Yes," she whispered. "I've been so frightened, I can't think straight."

"It is I who may soon be accused of murder." His gaze was cold as steel. "I just might kill him with my bare hands."

Fear still kept its grip inside her, but as Jack unclenched his fists and framed her face, Alessandra couldn't help feeling as if a terrible weight had been lifted from her shoulders.

"You now have me to help you, sweetheart," he murmured. "I won't let him harm either of you."

That she no longer had to bear the burden of such shameful secrets alone gave her a glimmer of hope. Was it possible that there might come a time when the past would no longer hold her life in thrall?

"I am selfish enough to cling to you for help," she whispered. "But I—I don't want to soil you with my scandal. You have your family, your reputation to think of."

"Don't worry about me. I am quite capable of fighting whatever battles we must face." His warm, firm lips blotted the beads of salt from her lashes. "Pierson men are born soldiers, formed from steel and gunpowder. And Bellazoni is a cowardly cur who makes war on innocent women and children. He doesn't stand a chance."

"Oh, Jack." Alessandra wasn't sure if she was laughing or crying. "You are more man a soldier, you are a hero—a flesh-and-blood hero. I've always known that in my heart, I think, and that's why I treated you so badly. I wanted your help, but didn't dare admit it" She pressed her cheek flush to the warm, hard plane of his breast Through the slabbed muscles and sculpted contours she could hear the steady thud of his heart His olive skin, golden in the lamplight glowed like sun-kissed bronze.

An ancient god come to life.

"Can you ever forgive me for being so beastly to you?"

A deep chuckle rumbled in his throat. "I shall think of some ways you can make it up to me."

She smiled, and looped her arms around his waist reveling in the feel of his tapered leanness, his chiseled strength.

"But in the meantime," said Jack, "we had better get back on
terra firma,
before our flesh shrivels up."

"Shrivels?"

His hand guided hers to an underwater spot

"Oh." She bit back a burble of laughter.

"It's no joking matter" he chided. "A soldier must guard his sword from adverse conditions. Though cold is more a cause for concern man heat" He waggled a brow. "After all, steel is forged in fire."

Seeing this teasing side of Jack warmed her heart. "Hot or cold, I am sure that it can rise to the occasion," she quipped. "But you are right We must have a—"

"A council of war," he finished. The lighthearted laughter was gone from his face. He lifted himself out of the water and helped her up to a seat on the stones. After drying her back with his shirt, he handed over her shift "Gentlemanly scruples demand I turn around," he murmured as she wriggled into the damp garment "However, I may just sneak a peek."

"I must look like a drowned rat," she sighed.

He, on the other hand, cut a sinfully sensual figure, clad only in a wisp of white linen. The wet cloth hugged every corded contour of his torso like a second skin and the tails barely brushed his thighs, leaving his long, muscled legs on full view.

Alessandra averted her gaze.

"Maidenly modesty?" His mouth quirked as he spotted the slight movement

"A far less laudable motive," she admitted. "When I look at you undressed, I find myself... distracted."

"I shall take shameless advantage of that information at some point in the future." He slipped on his breeches and carried his boots over to where she was sitting.

"Another pair ruined?" She sighed, eyeing the muddied leather. "Feel free to send your bootmaker's bill to me."

"We younger sons are a feckless lot, but my quarterly allowance does allow me to pay for my own footwear."

For an instant, Alessandra feared she had wounded his pride. But the flicker of lamplight showed only a look of fierce concentration on his face. The hobnailed soles scraped against stone as he kicked the boots aside. "Strategy," he muttered. "We need to come up with a strategy to see the dastard is locked away in prison here in England, where he can't harm anyone again. He is too dangerous to let get away."

"But what can we do?" asked Alessandra. "The murder of an Austrian official in Italy is of no concern to the authorities here. And as for his blackmail threats, I have no proof. It would be my word against his."

"Tell me what he is after, here in Bath."

Alessandra quickly explained about the ancient
imago,
the centurion's map, and how a wealthy Italian nobleman was willing to fund Frederico's political aims in return for the priceless artifact.

"They dream of setting up a state that is ruled by a modern-day Caesar?" He shook his head. "I know that the Italian people are anxious to free themselves from foreign rule, but Bellazoni and his friends are delusional to think the glories of ancient Rome can be revived."

"Yes, Frederico's mind is unhinged," replied Alessandra. "But he is sane enough to be devilishly dangerous. I have seen him in action, Jack. He is clever and cunning."

He lifted a dark brow. "I am not half bad when it comes to thrusting and parrying."

She felt her cheeks grow rosy. "The King ought to award you another medal for your services."

"The Order of the Garter?" he suggested.

Alessandra threw a balled-up stocking at him. "Keep your mind on the battlefield, not the boudoir."

Jack rubbed at his jaw. "In the military strategy, the key is to take away an enemy's strongest weapon. For Bellazoni, that would be you," he mused. "And now that you have told me, he has lost the advantage."

"But he also has Isabella," she pointed out, the thought of him anywhere near her daughter causing her stomach to knot

"Yes, Isabella adds an extra worry, but I am convinced she will be safe, as long as he doesn't suspect that his plans have been exposed."

"You mean, we must pretend that nothing is amiss?"

"For the moment" Jack stared meditatively at the bubbles rising up from the watery depths. "To catch him in the act of stealing from the site would not be so hard to set up. However, the penalty for making off with some ancient artifacts would be laughably light I want to see him arrested for a serious offense, and that will be a little more difficult to do."

"By difficult you mean dangerous."

He shrugged.

The vapors suddenly turned cold and clammy inside her lungs, making it difficult to breathe. "No, I won't have you taking risks for me and my daughter. Maybe..." She chafed her hands together, trying to dispel the sensation of ice in her veins. "Maybe you could help us find somewhere safe to hide until he leaves." Even as she said it Alessandra knew it was not the answer.

Jack was quick to point out the flaw. "And leave him free to come after you in the future? Or hurt someone else?"

She felt ashamed of herself. "You are right, of course. I was being selfish. And cowardly."

Jack closed the gap between them, twining his hand with hers. "You are the bravest person I know, to face such terror on your own for so long." He lifted her ringers to his lips, kissing each tip in turn. "Why did you never tell Lady Ciara and your other fellow 'Sinners'?"

"I could not bear to burden them with such an awful secret They could do nothing, save worry. And Ciara was facing her own troubles." Alessandra thought for a moment "And so, I fear, is Kate, though she appears to be the most free-spirited of our little group. I see it in her eyes sometimes, though she thinks she keeps it well hidden." The mist was thinning, the ghostly tendrils giving way to a fresh breeze blowing in from the mouth of the grotto. "I, of all people, recognize the tiny signs of subterfuge."

"You don't have to hide anything from me anymore," he replied.

Alessandra didn't trust herself to speak. She hoped her nonchalant smile would mask the futile lurchings of her heart It seemed that she could hear it thumping against her ribs.

Silence,
she chided. Love was a word that must never be spoken of. Never be thought of. Never be dreamed of. Jack's family expected him to marry a sweet, innocent English miss, not a widowed foreigner with a scandalous past

"My cousin Marco is the only one who knows about the murder," she said, once she had composed her emotions. "Ironically enough, the argument you interrupted was about dealing with the matter. He was of the opinion that I ought to have taken some action to clear my name before the secret could be used against me."

"Perhaps we should contact him," said Jack after some thought "Through his friends in Italy, he may have some idea on what pressures we can bring to bear on Bellazoni."

"I've tried," replied Alessandra. "But at the moment, he is somewhere in Scotland. He left London rather suddenly, though I am not sure why." She sighed. "I think he is involved with Lord Lynsley, whose position as a minor minister at Whitehall seems to cover some unusual activities. The Sinners have answered some
very
esoteric questions for him."

Jack nodded. "I am under the impression that he is involved in clandestine work for the government" He thought for a bit longer. "I will write to my brother George, who is well acquainted with Lynsley. He can pass on a message to the marquess that we need to speak with Marco right away."

Alessandra hesitated, feeling a pinch of worry. "Must you? The fewer people who know about the threat to my daughter, the better. I am truly afraid of Frederico. He will do anything—
anything
—to get what he wants."

"Yes, but now he must deal with
me,
sweetheart" Jack dismissed her objection with a flick of his hand. "I won't tell George any of the details. I will simply tell him to find Lynsley and pass on the message about Marco. No other explanation will be necessary."

She frowned. "And he will?"

"Of course." Jack seemed puzzled by the question. "If I say it's important he won't ask questions."

"Very well." Alessandra suddenly realized in a rush of gratitude how wonderful it was to have him take charge. His self-assurance steadied her own uncertainties. And his selfless kindness was overwhelming. He was willing to risk his life for her and Isabella.

She had to quell the urge to throw her arms around him and never let go.

"Are you all right?" Jack looked up from reaching for his boots, a quizzical expression shading his features.

"Yes," she murmured. "Fine."

"You look a little pale. Don't catch a chill." He fetched her gown and cloak. "You had better dress. Let me help you."

She fumbled with the folds, trying not to think of how nimbly his fingers worked the female fastenings. He was a handsome, virile man—of course he had dressed and undressed a legion of women. She had no right to feel a stab of jealousy.

"As I said, there is no reason to tip our hand right now." Unlike her, Jack was focused on strategy. "The excavation is slated to continue for several more weeks. As long as you go through the motions of trying to find the artifact, Frederico won't suspect that anything is amiss."

'Yes, that won't be so difficult" Drawing a calming breath, Alessandra felt his confidence robbing off on her.

"I will make sure that you spend as little time alone with him as possible, both at the site and during the evening entertainments. In the meantime, I would like to get a look at the original journal pages and map. Do you think you can manage that?"

"Frederico keeps them to himself, but I daresay I can find a reason to ask for some time with them."

"Good." Turning his back, Jack reached for his coat. Through the scrim of his still-damp shirt, Alessandra watched the supple movement of his body—the bladed bones, the corded muscles, the broad shoulders, looked like they could bear the weight of the world.

Lost in longing, she didn't look away quickly enough.

"What?"

"I—I was just trying to think of what excuse I can make for my bedraggled appearance." She regarded her disheveled garments in dismay. "Lud, how will I ever explain this?"

A look of unholy amusement played on his lips. "Why not tell the truth?" he replied. "You slipped while working in the grotto and fell into the thermal pool."