Chapter Five
Lovely house," Jack said, as he was led - hands still bound - through the grand entrance of Belgrave.
He turned to the old lady. "Did you decorate? It has that woman's touch. "
Miss Eversleigh was trailing behind, but he could hear her choke back a bubble of laughter.
"Oh, let it out, Miss Eversleigh," he called over his shoulder. "Much better for your constitution. "
"This way," the dowager ordered, motioning for him to follow her down the hall.
"Should I obey, Miss Eversleigh?"
She did not reply, smart girl that she was. But he was far too furious for circumspect sympathy, so he took his insolence one step further. "Yoo-hoo! Miss Eversleigh! Did you hear me?"
"Of course she heard you," the dowager snapped angrily.
Jack paused, cocking his head as he regarded the dowager. "I thought you were overjoyed to make my acquaintance. "
"I am," she bit off.
"Hmmm. " He turned to Miss Eversleigh, who had caught up to them during the exchange. "I don't think she sounds overjoyed, Miss Eversleigh. Do you?"
Miss Eversleigh's eyes darted from him to her employer and back before she said, "The dowager duchess is most eager to accept you into her family. "
"Well said, Miss Eversleigh," he applauded. "Insightful and yet circumspect. " He turned back to the dowager. "I hope you pay her well. "
Two red spots appeared on the dowager's cheeks, in such stark relief to the white of her skin that he would have sworn she'd used rouge if he hadn't seen the angry marks appear with his own eyes. "You are dismissed," she ordered, not even looking at Miss Eversleigh.
"I am?" he feigned. "Lovely. " He held out his bound wrists. "Would you mind?"
"Not you, her. " His grandmother's jaw clenched. "As you well know. "
But Jack was not in the mood to be accommodating, and in that moment he did not even care to maintain his usual jocular facade. And so he looked her in the eye, his green meeting her icy, icy blue, and as he spoke, he felt a shiver of deja vu. It was almost as if he were back on the Continent, back in battle, his shoulders straight and his eyes narrowed as he faced down the enemy.
"She stays. "
They froze, all three of them, and Jack's eyes did not waver from the dowager's as he continued. "You brought her into this. She will remain through to the end. "
He half expected Miss Eversleigh to protest. Hell, any sane person would have run as far as possible from the upcoming confrontation. But she stood utterly still, her arms stick-straight at her sides, her only movement her throat as she swallowed.
"If you want me," he said quietly, "you will take her as well. "
The dowager sucked a long, angry breath through her nose and jerked her head to the side. "Grace," she barked, "the crimson drawing room. Now. "
Her name was Grace. He turned and looked at her. Her skin was pale and her eyes were wide and assessing.
Grace. He liked it. It fit her.
"Don't you want to know my name?" he called out to the dowager, who was already stalking down the hall.
She stopped and turned, as he knew she would.
"It's John," he announced, enjoying the way the blood drained from her face. "Jack to friends" - he looked at Grace with heavy-lidded seduction in his eyes - "and friends. "
He could have sworn he felt her shiver, which delighted him.
"Are we?" he murmured.
Her lips parted a full second before she managed to make a sound. "Are we what?"
"Friends, of course. "
"I - I - "
"Will you leave my companion alone!" the dowager barked.
He sighed and shook his head toward Miss Eversleigh. "She's so domineering, don't you think?"
Miss Eversleigh blushed. Truly, it was the prettiest pink he'd ever seen.
"Pity about these bindings," he continued. "We do seem to be caught in a romantic moment, your employer's acidic presence aside, and it would be far easier to drop one exquisite kiss on the back of your hand were I able to lift it with one of mine. "
This time he was certain she shivered.
"Or your mouth," he whispered. "I might kiss your mouth. "
There was a lovely silence, broken rather rudely by:
"What the devil?"
Miss Eversleigh jumped back a foot or three, and Jack turned to see an extremely angry man striding his way.
"Is this man bothering you, Grace?" he demanded.
She shook her head quickly. "No, no, he's not. But - "
The newcomer turned to Jack with furious blue eyes. Furious blue eyes that rather closely resembled those of the dowager, save for the bags and wrinkles. "Who are you?"
"Who are you?" Jack countered, instantly disliking him.
"I am Wyndham," he shot back. "And you are in my home. "
Jack blinked. A cousin. His new family was growing more charming by the second. "Ah. Well, in that case, I am Jack Audley. Formerly of His Majesty's esteemed army, more recently of the dusty road. "
"Who are these Audleys?" the dowager demanded, crossing back over. "You are no Audley. It is there in your face. In your nose and chin and in every bloody feature save your eyes, which are quite the wrong color. "
"The wrong color?" Jack responded, acting hurt. "Really?" He turned to Miss Eversleigh. "I was always told the ladies like green eyes. Was I misinformed?"
"You are a Cavendish!" the dowager roared. "You are a Cavendish, and I demand to know why I was not informed of your existence. "
"What the devil is going on?" Wyndham demanded.
Jack thought it wasn't his duty to answer, so he happily kept quiet.
"Grace?" Wyndham asked, turning to Miss Eversleigh.
Jack watched the exchange with interest. They were friends, but were they friendly? He could not be sure.
Miss Eversleigh swallowed with noticeable discomfort. "Your grace," she said, "perhaps a word in private?"
"And spoil it for the rest of us?" Jack chimed in, because after what he'd been subjected to, he didn't much feel that anyone deserved a moment of privacy. And then, to achieve maximum irritation, he added, "After all I've been through. . . "
"He is your cousin," the dowager announced sharply.
"He is the highwayman," Miss Eversleigh said.
"Not," Jack added, turning to display his bound hands, "here of my own volition, I assure you. "
"Your grandmother thought she recognized him last night," Miss Eversleigh told the duke.
"I knew I recognized him," the dowager snapped. Jack resisted the urge to duck as she flicked her hand at him. "Just look at him. "
Jack turned to the duke. "I was wearing a mask. " Because really, he shouldn't have to take the blame for this.
He smiled cheerfully, watching the duke with interest as he brought his hand to his forehead and pressed his temples with enough force to crush his skull. And then, just like that, his hand fell away and he yelled, "Cecil!"
Jack was about to make a quip about another lost cousin, but at that moment a footman - presumably named Cecil - came skidding down the hall.
"The portrait," Wyndham bit off. "Of my uncle. "
"The one we just brought up to - "
"Yes. In the drawing room. Now! "
Even Jack's eyes widened at the furious energy in his voice.
And then - it was like acid in his belly - he saw Miss Eversleigh lay a hand on the duke's arm.
"Thomas," she said softly, surprising him with her use of his given name, "please allow me to explain. "
"Did you know about this?" Wyndham demanded.
"Yes, but - "
"Last night," he said icily. "Did you know last night?"
Last night?
"I did, but Thomas - "
What happened last night?
"Enough," he spat. "Into the drawing room. All of you. "
Jack foll
owed the duke, and then, once the door was shut behind them, held up his hands. "D'you think you might. . . ?" he asked. Rather conversationally, if he did say so himself.
"For the love of Christ," Wyndham muttered. He grabbed something from a writing table near the wall and then returned. With one angry swipe, he cut through the bindings with a gold letter opener.
Jack looked down to make sure he wasn't bleeding. "Well done," he murmured. Not even a scratch.
"Thomas," Miss Eversleigh was saying, "I really think you ought to let me speak with you for a moment before - "
"Before what?" Wyndham snapped, turning on her with what Jack deemed rather unbecoming fury.
"Before I am informed of another long-lost cousin whose head may or may not be wanted by the Crown?"
"Not by the Crown, I think," Jack said mildly. He had his reputation to think of, after all. "But surely a few magistrates. And a vicar or two. " He turned to the dowager. "Highway robbery is not generally considered the most secure of all possible occupations. "
His levity was appreciated by no one, not even poor Miss Eversleigh, who had managed to incur the fury of both Wyndhams. Rather undeservedly, too, in his opinion. He hated bullies.
"Thomas," Miss Eversleigh implored, her tone once again causing Jack to wonder just what, precisely, existed between those two. "Your grace," she corrected, with a nervous glance over at the dowager,
"there is something you need to know. "
"Indeed," Wyndham bit off. "The identities of my true friends and confidantes, for one thing. "
Miss Eversleigh flinched as if struck, and at that moment Jack decided that he'd had quite enough. "I suggest," he said, his voice light but steady, "that you speak to Miss Eversleigh with greater respect. "
The duke turned to him, his eyes as stunned as the silence that descended over the room. "I beg your pardon. "
Jack hated him in that moment, every prideful little aristocratic speck of him. "Not used to being spoken to like a man, are we?" he taunted.
The air went electric, and Jack knew he probably should have foreseen what would come next, but the duke's face had positively twisted into fury, and Jack somehow could not seem to move as Wyndham launched himself forward, his hands wrapping themselves around his throat as the both of them went crashing down to the carpet.
Cursing himself for a fool, Jack tried to get traction as the duke's fist slammed into his jaw. Pure animalistic survival set in, and he tensed his belly into a hard knot. With one lightning-quick movement he threw his torso forward, using his head as a weapon. There was a satisfying crack as he struck Wyndham's jaw, and Jack took advantage of his stunned state to roll them over and reverse their positions.
"Don't. . . you. . . . ever strike me again," Jack growled. He'd fought in gutters, on battlefields, for his country and for his life, and he'd never had patience for men who threw the first punch.
He took an elbow in the belly and was about to return the favor with a knee to the groin when Miss Eversleigh leapt into the fray, wedging herself between the two men with nary a thought to propriety or her own safety.
"Stop it! Both of you!"