Mad Jack (Sherbrooke Brides 4)

Jack flailed, Gray cursed, and Lynch, the coachman, froze in appalled silence.

“This is a propitious start,” Colin said to the dangerously overcast sky, helped Gray dust himself off and straighten Jack into a sitting position, then assisted his wife into the carriage, holding his breath, it seemed to Jack, until she was safely seated and the black glove was removed from the floor of the carriage and gently placed between her palms.

“I’m riding for a while,” he said, looking at his wife, Jack thought, with an odd mixture of rage and desperation. “Gray, I wish you luck.” He gave him a salute and turned away to a stable lad who was holding a magnificent black barb with a white blaze on its forehead. Once he was in the saddle, he called out, “I’ve tied your horses to the back of the carriage. All right, Lynch, let’s go. It’s at least five hours back to London.”

Gray was sitting next to Jack, holding her up, just shaking his head. Sinjun was biting her lip, staring at the toes of her black slippers. Immediately Gray took her hand. “What’s wrong, Sinjun?” he asked as he leaned a bit more to the left to balance Jack, who was listing.

“Poor Colin,” Sinjun said. “I’m such a trial to him, Gray.”

“Nonsense. He’s the luckiest bastard alive and he knows it, but there’s something wrong, Sinjun, particularly with Colin.”

Sinjun nearly laughed, but didn’t quite make it. “No, I won’t complain and whine to you. Ever since we discovered that I’m going to have a child, he’s been different, unwilling to let me out of his sight, always fussing over me. He’s been very un-Colinlike. It was so good to hear him yell, to have him breathing fire right in my face, to have him turn red. It’s the first time he’s managed it since I told him about our child.

“Oh, enough of that. Now tell me, why did Jack steal Durban and leave London?”

Jack shuddered and ducked her face in Gray’s chest.

“Jack,” Gray said slowly, aware that she was wearing only Squire Leon’s wife’s nightgown, with three blankets on top of it, “will answer all my questions once we’re back in London. Won’t you, Jack?”

Jack burrowed herself into Gray’s armpit. When she emerged some four minutes later, she looked at Sinjun and said, “Gray told me about your brothers, Douglas and Ryder. But I don’t know them. Perhaps I will meet them in London.”

Sinjun laughed. “Bless your heart. Certainly you will meet them. It’s quite provoking to hear people talk about brothers and other assorted relatives that you’ve never heard of. Gray probably told you that Douglas is the oldest Sherbrooke sibling. He’s the earl of Northcliffe and the very best of brothers. He’s all big and dark like Colin, and his smile is so sweet it warms the coldest day. Alex, his wife, thinks he should smile more, but I like to see him look stern and forbidding. Then when he finally succumbs to a smile, it’s such a treat. Douglas is smart and loyal, and he takes his responsibilities very much to heart. His family seat is near Eastbourne, Northcliffe Hall, on the southern coast of England.

“Ryder is my second brother, a wicked, utterly charming man, so filled with life and laughter that you can’t help but glow whenever you’re around him. Unlike Douglas, Ryder always has a smile playing about his mouth. For years now, he has been rescuing little children and taking them to a house we call Brandon House, to Jane, a dear woman who’s stronger than ten oxen and as determined as Ryder is to save hurt children.

“Then there’s me. I married a Scot because I saw him at the Drury Lane Theatre one night and fell in love with him on the spot. He needed an heiress, and fortunately I was one. It all worked out marvelously well once Douglas and Ryder got used to the idea of their little sister actually knowing a man in carnal ways. Colin’s first wife had died, and I have two wonderful, quite notorious stepchildren—Philip, who’s ten years old now, and Dahling, who’s eight. Is that enough information for her, Gray? She looks ready to topple over the edge of exhaustion.”

“Oh, no,” Jack said. “Tell me more, Sinjun.”

“Well, Douglas is married to Alexandra, who is half his size and at least as strong-willed. Douglas wants to be the absolute ruler, and Alex allows it half the time, which all of us, except Douglas, agree is fair. They have two sons—twins—who are the very image of Alex’s older sister, Melissande, who’s so beautiful one can only stare at her. Douglas is incensed that his little boys are the most handsome lads in all of England and will doubtless gr

ow up to be insufferably conceited.

“Ryder is married to Sophie. He met her in Jamaica, of all places, and helped solve a perfectly dreadful situation there. She has a little brother, Jeremy, who’s at Eaton. Sophie’s a pillar, all serious and proper, until she looks at Ryder. Then she’s smiling and laughing and touching him and kissing him, no matter who’s close by. They have one son, Grayson, who is the most precious little boy in the world. He has his father’s charm and his utter love of life. Ah, but he has Sophie’s thoughtful expression, particularly when he wants something.”

“Grayson is my namesake,” Gray said to Jack. “Now, Sinjun, my godson will be the most precious child in the world until you have your own son. At least that’s what I hear happens.”

“Perhaps. We’ll see. Do you think he’ll look like Colin?”

“That would be fine just so long as he has your Sherbrooke blue eyes,” Gray said.

Sinjun smiled at that, then said to Jack, “Now, I won’t tell you about our mother, not until you have all your strength back. You’re nearly drooling, you’re so tired. Go to sleep, Jack. If you have more questions about the Sherbrookes, they’re planning to remain in London for a while. Will you be remaining in London as well, Jack?”

Jack mumbled low, indistinct sounds and retreated once again into Gray’s armpit.

Gray let her hide, saying only, “She’ll have to face up to things soon enough.” He pulled a blanket more closely around her.

9

MATHILDA LOOKED at Gray who was carrying the still-blanketed Jack in his arms, and said, “Lordy.”

Maude smiled, patted the soft curls beside her ears, and said, “I never doubted for a moment that you would see to our Jack, my boy. Who is this tall young lady who’s following you and Jack?”

“This is Lady Ashburnham, Aunt Maude.”

“Ill-tempered husband,” Mathilda said. “But handsome, very handsome.”

Maude said, “Yes, Mathilda believes his lordship even more handsome than the vicar Mortimer, who kissed her in the vestry. Naturally, his lordship is just a mite too young for Mathilda—more’s the pity for him, poor boy.”