Redeeming Jack (3 page)

“Do you speak any Welsh, Llewelyn? I have been told by the authorities that the Welsh are a closed-mouthed, resentful race who might respond better to one of their own.”

Jack remembered growing up in the Welsh countryside and the smiling, joyful, open faces of his companions. He pictured Carys at fifteen, her hair hanging down her back, begging him to help her down from a tree she climbed to impress him and then lost her nerve. He’d encouraged her to jump from the lowest bough into his arms. The feel of her maturing body against his changed everything…

“Yes, I speak Welsh, although my father and school masters at Harrow tried to beat it out of me.”

The duke raised an eyebrow.

“It wasn’t considered a suitable accomplishment for a duke’s son. All my father’s children spoke it, of course. It meant that we could shut him out.”

The duke stubbed out his cigar. “If you are agreeable then, would you care to accompany me to the Foreign Office? There are people there who have a far better grasp of the situation than I do.”

Jack doubted that, but he got to his feet, helped himself to another glass of brandy and looked regretfully at the expensive Spanish cigarillos.

As if he’d caught Jack’s thought, the duke spoke over his shoulder. “Help yourself.”

Jack muttered his thanks and pocketed a fistful. He couldn’t afford to buy them for himself, but he wasn’t too proud to accept a gift. The duke waited for him by the concealed door. They entered the passageway and headed back down to the kitchens. Jack retrieved his coat, which had dried out quite nicely, blew a kiss to the smiling cook and followed the duke out to the stables.

Two horses were being walked up and down the cobbled stable yard. Jack mounted and ran an experienced, appreciative hand over the prime piece of horseflesh the duke was allowing him to ride.

The duke crammed a tall beaver hat on his head and wound a long silk scarf around his throat. The snow had thickened, and the line between the sky and the ground blurred into a chalky nothingness.

Jack wiggled his toes as his heavily darned socks began to freeze inside his steaming boots. “Let’s make this quick, Your Grace. I refuse to face your duchess if I keep you out too late or, heaven forbid, lose you in this blizzard.”

The duke’s answering smile was nearly lost in the shadow of his hat brim. “Indeed, Llewelyn. It would be a tragedy. And God knows what your wife would say if the same fate occurred to you.”

Jack laughed as he bent his head to exit the stable yard gate. “She’d be thanking you, Your Grace. Remember, my death would set her free.”

CARYS AND ANNA paused at the threshold of the ballroom and looked out over the colorful throng. Lord Oliver Rice appeared from behind a marble statue of Apollo flanking the entrance to the ballroom. The orchestra was busy setting down their instruments, while the guests streamed out of the far doors in search of their supper. After a swift glance at Oliver’s face, Carys curtsied and waited with silent apprehension for him to speak. To her immense relief, he did nothing more threatening than bow and reach for her hand.

“Carys, or should I say, Lady Jack Llewelyn, will you postpone your supper for a little while? I believe there are a few things we need to discuss before I bring you to my mother.”

“Please don’t call me that.” Carys shuddered.

He half-smiled. “It’s all right. I’m not going to make a scene. It is not as though this couldn’t have happened at any time.”

Carys allowed him to lead her back along the candle lit corridor to the more intimate setting of the duchess’ morning room. Sometimes being a married woman had its advantages. As long as the door remained open, her reputation, such as it was, would remain intact. Oliver handed her into a chair and took the seat opposite. He seemed in no hurry to speak as he gazed into the fire.

His dark profile and coal black hair spoke of his Celtic heritage, whilst his nut-brown coat and discreet waistcoat emphasized his quiet sense of style. Carys had met him at the Llewelyn home in Wales shortly after Jack left her. His family was distantly connected to the Llewelyns through his mother and held land in Swansea and Brecon.

At first he had been content to remain her friend, but as the years passed, she found herself relying on his support and encouragement. His declaration of love hadn’t surprised her—but his plans to marry her had.

It was Carys who broke the silence. “I didn’t know Jack would be here tonight. I didn’t even know he was in the country.”

Oliver shrugged one elegantly clad shoulder, his dark brown eyes full of warmth. “I think anyone would have guessed that. You were as shocked as I was.”

She met his gaze full on. “I’ve never lied to you about Jack. You’ve always known that my situation is difficult. You should do as your mother tells you, and go and find another more-biddable, less-married female. I am told there are scores of them about.”

Oliver reached forward and took her hands in his. “I never notice them, I only see you.” He brought her fingers to his mouth and kissed them. “Divorce is possible now, if one has the ear of the Prince Regent and the necessary funds. And from what my lawyers tell me, if Llewelyn agrees, you would stand a good chance of succeeding in your claim.”

Carys rose and paced the carpet. As she walked, her gauzy white skirts shimmered in the firelight. “I need to settle things with Jack first. Will you allow me that?”

Oliver smiled. “I’ve been waiting for you all my life, Carys. What will a few more weeks matter?”

With a pang of guilt, she sank down beside his chair and clasped his hand between hers, her throat tight. “I’m not worthy of such devotion, Oliver. The scandal will be immense. I’m unlikely to be received by the
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and your chances of preferment in the government will be irrevocably damaged. I can’t even tell you how long it will take to sort things out, or whether Jack will agree to a divorce. He is a proud man.”

Oliver’s face darkened and he pulled his hand away. “Don’t make excuses for him. He abandoned you, just as he abandoned my brother David in Spain. As far as I’m concerned, he doesn’t deserve you.” He stood up, pulling her into his arms. “Take as long as you want, my dear. Just make sure you come back to me.” He dropped a light kiss on Carys’s nose and stepped away.

Sometimes Carys wished he wasn’t quite so careful of her reputation. If he would kiss her with all the passion she suspected he concealed and make her his, she was sure she wouldn’t feel so vulnerable around Jack.

Unfortunately, whenever she tried to tempt him into a flirtation, he always pulled away. He smiled down at her now, obviously unaware of her complicated feelings. “Will you join me in the ballroom? I intend to have at least one dance before you disappear again.”

Carys waited until he paused at the library door before she found the courage to speak. When he looked back inquiringly at her, she gestured to her diamond necklace and matching earrings. “I don’t think I should continue to wear these while I am still married to Jack.”

Lord Oliver frowned. “I had them made especially for you. I asked you to consider them as a betrothal gift.”

“I fear we have been a little premature.” Her rash promise to marry Oliver without considering her present husband suddenly seemed tawdry. She knew Jack had noticed her fine jewelry. Could it explain the flash of contempt she’d seen in his eyes? Did he believe she was already another man’s possession?

Her fingers shook as she struggled to unscrew the earrings.

Oliver’s strong hands closed over hers and stopped her. “Keep them, Carys. Return them only if you must. I meant them for you alone.” He placed her hand on his arm and led her toward the door. “At least wear them for me tonight. You cannot go to a ball half-dressed, my darling. What would people say?”

Oliver’s gentle humor restored Carys’s courage and she squeezed his coat sleeve. She reminded herself that one of the reasons she found Oliver so attractive was his even temperament. Jack had always been volatile, dragging her into scrapes, daring her to prove herself, teasing her into losing her temper. Oliver was definitely more restful.

He glanced down at her as they arrived in the ballroom. “That’s it, chin up. For here comes my mother and our illustrious hostess, the Duchess of Diable Delamere.”

Carys had never met the new duchess, but she had met Oliver’s mother, Lady Amelia Rice, on many occasions. Carys knew Lady Amelia heartily disliked her and could well understand why. At forty, Oliver was considered one of the most eligible men in London. Despite his mother’s best efforts, he had steadfastly refused to look at any other woman but Carys.

As Oliver made the introductions, Carys could only wonder what spiteful tales Lady Rice had poured into the duchess’ ear. She was surprised when the duchess, after an exchange of pleasantries, smiled and drew Carys away from the Rices with a gentle apology.

“Would you mind promenading with me, Lady Llewelyn? My husband has absented himself on government business and without him by my side, I feel rather shy.”

“You have made a good choice of companion then, Your Grace. If you are seen conversing with me, most people will leave you alone. My estranged husband has such a dubious reputation that most of the
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fear to talk to me, in case my disgrace is catching like the measles.”

The duchess laid her hand on Carys’s arm. “Lady Jack, I didn’t ask you to walk with me because of that. I hoped, rather, that your beauty would attract attention and that I could disappear into the background.”

Carys regarded the duchess, whose expressive face contained something far more arresting than mere beauty. She had the look of a woman who was well loved and the unconscious authority of an aristocrat. Even as Carys envied her, she doubted the duchess could be ignored in any situation. “It’s all right, Your Grace, I was only funning. Pray let us continue.”

Carys followed the duchess around the edge of the crowded dance floor until they came to the large windows, which led out onto the paved balcony overlooking the square. It was too cold to go outside. Ice frosted the glass like delicate Brussels lace. Snow piled up on the stone ledges outside gave the exposed marbled floor a dangerous sheen.

The duchess gestured Carys toward a rustic beribboned seat and sat beside her. She produced a lilac and silver fan and opened it with a snap. “I didn’t realize a
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ball could be so exhausting. I have shaken more hands and performed more curtsies than I ever imagined possible.” She gave a little laugh that begged Carys to join her. “I even began to feel some sympathy for the Prince Regent.”

Carys couldn’t help but smile. “I cannot help but agree with you, Your Grace. I, too, find it a little overwhelming.”

The duchess reached for Carys’s hand. “It is such a pleasure to finally meet you, Lady Jack. I hear that you live mainly in the country. Perhaps we can help each other cope with the mysteries of a London season.” She shrugged. “I have no idea how one is supposed to go on, and there is no point in asking my husband. All he says is that any place where he is welcome alone, I am not, and that if he finds me in any one of them he will beat me.”

Carys caught a hint of exasperated laughter in the duchess’ face and responded in kind. “At least you have a husband, Your Grace. Mine disappeared some years ago and chose to reappear at your ball, of all places.”

The duchess squeezed her fingers. “I know, and how shockingly bad of him to do so, although how very like him.”

“You know my husband?”

“Jack was employed as a nurse companion for my brother, Michael, for several weeks this summer. I have nothing but good to say about him, apart from the fact that he lied to us about his true origins.” The duchess sat back and studied Carys. “And now that we have met, I have another bone to pick with him. I shall take him to task about having the temerity to abandon you.”

“He was not entirely to blame, Your Grace. I have my share of regrets too.” She bit down on her lip to stop herself from saying anything else. Seeing Jack must have upset her more than she’d realized if she felt comfortable blurting out her personal feelings to a woman she hardly knew.

The duchess rose to her feet. “I see Lord Rice searching for you, so I will not keep you.” She glanced sideways at Carys as Lord Rice strode toward them, his mother trailing purposefully in his wake. “Sometimes I’m glad the duke’s mother lives a retired life in Brighton.”

Carys tried to mask her amusement as the duchess smiled graciously at the approaching pair and raised her voice.

“Lady Jack, would you do me the honor of calling on me tomorrow? I feel that we will deal extremely well together.”

Carys sank into a dignified curtsey. “Thank you, Your Grace. I would be delighted.”

As the duchess gave a decisive nod and walked away, Carys noticed that Lady Rice looked slightly less sour than usual. Oliver took her hand with a pleased smile.

“I am glad to see you furthering your acquaintance here in town, my dear. I have been told that the new duchess, thanks to her husband, is in a position to wield considerable power if she chooses to use it.”

“She is also very charming, my lord. I believe I will enjoy meeting her again.”

With a disarming smile for her prospective mother-in-law, Carys allowed Oliver to sweep her into the dance. As she glanced up at him, she tried to ignore her conviction that Jack’s sudden appearance meant that nothing would ever be the same again.

STRUCK BY AN unaccustomed sense of unease, Jack lingered at the door and allowed the duke to precede him into the mahogany-paneled meeting room at the Foreign Office. The room reeked of privilege. Framed portraits of previous dignitaries glowered down from the walls, and thick brocade curtains deadened all sound from the busy street outside. What if the other men in the room, men of his own class, men Jack had probably been to school with, ignored him or, worse still, condemned the duke for bringing him at all?

“Llewelyn, close the door behind you.” The duke murmured.

Jack did as he was told and ventured further into the book-lined room. The table was so well polished that when the duke took his seat, his elegant form was reflected in the surface. To Jack’s surprise, there were only three other men present.