Barely a Lady (32 page)

“
Our
Jamie,” he corrected.

“No, Jack. You didn’t want him. You didn’t raise him or protect him or sacrifice everything for him.”

“But I want to be part of his life. I want to be part of
your
life. Tell me how I can make it up to you, Livvie. Tell me how I can convince you I’ve changed. That the boy who did those terrible things to you died in France.”

She heard the wash of blood in her ears. She could smell the brandy the doctor had used, and she could taste the foul remnants of bitterness on her tongue. She could see how the shadows had settled in Jack’s eyes and made him sad.

“I don’t know, Jack.” She sighed, knowing she was breaking her own heart. “I just don’t know.”

At first, his only response was to just watch her, her hand caught tightly in his. “I understand. But I can’t bear to leave you again. If you wish it, I want to marry you again and give Jamie back his rightful name.” She meant to object, but he held up his hand. “I know I have a lot of work to do, love. But one thing you will not argue with me about is caring for Jamie. I will no longer allow you to live so far away from him. Please say you’ll at least let me settle you somewhere while you decide your future.”

Now her heart was skipping, stealing her breath. A home again. All the time in the world to hold her baby in her arms, to watch him discover the world without fear or want or insecurity. To be able to give Georgie back what her dearest friend had given her—support and solace and friendship.

“Georgie is Mrs. James Grace now,” she said. “He died two years ago on blockade. He was a fine man.”

“He would have to be if you named your baby after him.”

“James is only Jamie’s second name,” she admitted. “His whole name is John James Arthur.”

She saw the shock settle in Jack’s eyes. “You named him after me?”

She looked away for a moment, her throat thick with old regret and older hope. “He is your son. But James is the one who took him in and raised him with his own child.”

Jack grinned. “Georgie has a child?” He shook his head. “Good Lord. England is no longer safe.”

Olivia managed a smile. “Your family will not be happy.”

“Be damned to my family. If it weren’t for them, you and I would have already been a family, and you and Georgie would have been safe.”

Wishes she had never allowed herself. He would not seduce her with them now. Words were easy.

“Your family wasn’t alone in their actions,” she had to say.

She could have just as easily stabbed him. His eyes were desolate. “I know that, Liv. And I can’t make up for these last years. But I hope to make it up to you from now on. At least let me do that.”

She saw the naked pleading in his eyes and couldn’t refuse. “Thank you,” she said, barely keeping from stroking his hair. “I want you to know Jamie. I need him to be safe.”

“Believe me when I tell you that Gervaise will never hurt our son again.”

“An honorable sentiment indeed,” Gervaise said from the doorway into the garden.

Olivia jumped as if he’d struck her.

Jack just scowled. “I don’t suppose we could have just a few more minutes of privacy.”

But Gervaise stepped all the way in and closed the door. “Sorry, old man. No time.”

“Indeed there isn’t, Gervaise,” Jack said, standing.

Olivia felt the sudden tension in the room. Gervaise was smiling like the cat with the canary in sight, but Jack looked completely unconcerned. She didn’t overlook the fact, though, that he reached down to hold her hand again.

“In fact”—Jack tsked like a nanny—“you’re a bit worse for wear, dear boy. I can’t imagine you presenting yourself so.”

That was when Olivia finally took in the fact that Gervaise, usually neat to a fault, looked… rumpled.

“Ah, well,” Gervaise said. “I do hope Livvie forgives me for appearing in all my dirt, but I was so anxious to see you both.”

“If you were hoping to see me named traitor, Gervaise,” Jack said, “you’re too late.”

Gervaise smiled. “The minute I saw Drake here, I figured as much. So he’s your contact, is he?”

“You think I’m going to tell you?”

But Gervaise’s attention had already wandered. Olivia felt his gaze crawl over her skin. “Ah, me, Livvie,” he said with patently false sympathy. “I’m afraid your looks have suffered a bit. Might prove inconvenient, don’t you know. Especially when you are in the hunt for a new protector.”

She saw then what he meant to do and felt a cold resignation settle over her. She should have known she would get no reprieve.

“I’d appreciate your not slandering my wife, Gervaise,” Jack said.

Gervaise pulled out his snuffbox and flicked open the lid. “She got you to buy her story, did she? The baby was yours? I wonder, Jack, if you’ve considered who else looks like you.”

Olivia held still, her pulse thundering in her ears.

Jack just shrugged. “Diversion is always a good tactic,” he admitted. “But this time I’m afraid it won’t work.” Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a ruby ring. “Lose something?”

Gervaise just looked disappointed. “Ah,” he said, taking a pinch of snuff. “It always was just a bit too big. I imagine it was stolen. Say, this evening?”

Jack shook his head. “How could you? With everything you’ve been given, you have the gall to betray your country?”

“Oh, come, Jack. I did no more than most. Passed a bit of gossip. Listened in on a few conversations. Tell me who in the
ton
does not.”

“But they do not sell those secrets to the French. You sup with traitors, Gervaise; you cannot claim innocence.”

“Oh, my dear, no. Really. Not sup. Merely shared a sherry or two. Besides, what do you know about what I have? Why, I’ve been forced to scrabble around just to pay my tailor, uncaring creature. In fact, I can’t tell you how much I appreciate your letting me administer Livvie’s trust fund. Admittedly it wasn’t much, but every little groat helps.”

Livvie found herself gaping. Gervaise. Dear Lord, she should have known. Jack might have been impetuous and easily led, but he had never been dishonorable. He would never have left her and the baby without funds. She at once felt the lifting of an old rage and the settling of a new regret.

“You bastard,” Jack growled. “I should call you out.”

Livvie jumped to her feet. “No, Jack.”

Jack laid a hand on her arm. “Don’t worry, Liv. He’s not worth it. And I vowed a long time ago that not another human would die by my hand on a field of honor.”

Gervaise just smiled. “Oh, Jack, you always were too easily led. But, then, so is most of the
ton
.”

“Did you lead that man tonight to us?” Olivia had to ask, even knowing it would put her back in Gervaise’s notice.

But he was too well pleased with himself to let her distract him. “That is the most brilliant part of the entire escapade. I only mentioned Livvie in an effort to force her hand. And voilà. Suddenly the world is abuzz about Jack, and everybody and his Aunt Maude is looking for him.” He actually giggled. “It was positively delicious.”

“Why are you here, Gervaise?” Jack asked. “You must know that your story is blown. I can’t imagine you’d try and kill us now. Not with the house this busy.”

“Good Lord, no. It might as well be Almacks on Wednesday. No, Jack, I’m leaving. But I had one final gift to give you.”

Olivia took an instinctive step forward, as if she could stop him. She should have known he wouldn’t have forgotten. It was what he’d come for, after all.

Five years ago, she might have begged. She knew better now. Her future was sealed, and Gervaise would take immense pleasure in accomplishing it.

“A gift?” Jack asked, his arm now around Olivia’s shoulder. “I’d be delighted.”

She almost shook him off. Better now than after Gervaise told the rest of the story.

“I just didn’t want to leave you with a misconception,” Gervaise said, carefully inspecting his nails. “The one about how you’d found two true women, your wife and your mistress. And how you couldn’t wait to get back to pure little Livvie. You shared the information with me, when we met last year. When you told me what it was you were doing in France.” He raised his head, smiling. “Ah, what a bit of gossip that proved to be.”

“You were the one who sold me out.”

“Indeed I was. But here’s the best part, Jack. No one has been true to you. No one. Remember Mimi? The girl who helped you forget Livvie? The one who made you rediscover life?”

“What of her?”

His grin grew. “Why, she isn’t dead at all. In fact, I’m off to meet her now. As for being true, she helped set up your capture. With me, as a matter of fact. She was mymistress long before she was yours. And she was my mistress again after you.”

And now, dropping his venom into the breathless silence, he turned deliberately to Olivia. “Just like your wife,” he said, his eyes hard and bright. “Isn’t that right, Livvie?”

Chapter 22

O
livia felt the life draining out of her. So it all came down to this.

“No, she wasn’t,” Jack said, his hold on her even tighter.

Gervaise’s smile grew. “Do you want me to tell you about the lovely birthmark she has beneath her left breast?”

Livvie desperately wanted to defend herself. She wanted it not to matter. But it did. It sealed her doom. Knowing she had no alternative, she braced herself for Jack’s rage.

Instead, he stared at Gervaise as if seeing him for the first time. “You may have seen her birthmark,” he said, “but you were never Livvie’s protector. She has more respect for herself and for our child.”

Livvie felt the earth shift beneath her feet.

“But I
have
tupped her, Jack. I tupped her well.”

Olivia tried so hard not to react. Not to give Gervaise that satisfaction.

But again, Jack surprised her. “You took advantage of her; I have no doubt at all. I’m just sad I was the one who put her in that position. I’m even sadder she hasn’t been able to trust me enough to tell me about it so I could have told her that it made no difference.”

Olivia felt oddly frozen. Jack’s words seemed to bounce off her like pebbles, not able to break through her growing shock.

Gervaise began to laugh. “Oh, please. No man is such a saint that he will put the horns on his own head.”

Jack turned to Livvie then and, smiling, gently closed her gaping mouth with a finger beneath her chin. “I know, my love. You have no reason to believe me. But I’ve remembered some lessons I learned in the last years. One was that you are, indeed, as Sergeant Harper said, the truest lass I’ve ever known. I’m just sad I didn’t remember that lesson sooner. The other is that trust is based on faith. Not evidence. And, oh, Livvie, how could I ever have mislaid my faith in you?”

Livvie could barely see him through the tears that filled her eyes. “It was a month or so after the duel,” she said, trying so hard to sound unaffected. “You had disappeared. My parents had disowned me. I had… no one. He acted so”—she spit out the last word—“
concerned.
”

She still expected Jack to vilify her again. She was overwhelmed when he wrapped her tightly in his arms and kissed the top of her head. “Oh, Livvie. How will I ever forgive myself for putting you in such a position?”

A small sob escaped. “He couldn’t wait to tell you. I can’t believe he didn’t.”

“Shhh,” he whispered, rocking her a bit. “It doesn’t matter.
He
doesn’t matter.”

She heard Gervaise sigh, as if in disgust. “Ah, Jack, you’re no longer fun to play with.”

Jack dropped one final kiss on Olivia’s head and turned to his cousin. “I’m afraid this time you’ve tried to diddle the wrong man, Gervaise. You’re officially under arrest and will be transported to Newgate.”

Gervaise laughed as if Jack were the funniest man on earth. “You won’t do that. Think of the scandal for the family.”

And, amazingly, Jack grinned right back. “Sod the family. Sod you. Sergeant!”

Gervaise spun around to flee, only to run right into the solid wall of Sergeant Harper, and behind him half a dozen other military men, all with weapons.

“Really, Gervaise.” Jack tutted. “Did you truly think I’d let you go?”

Caught firmly in Harper’s grip, Gervaise blinked. “Yes.” But then he saw Drake, and his insouciance was back. “Excellent,” he crowed, slipping his snuffbox away. “It is far too fatiguing to be forever avoiding the law. I’m certain I have a few names you’d like in exchange for a comfortable life for me elsewhere.”

Drake didn’t bother to answer. He just waved his hand, whereupon Gervaise was escorted out.

“Au revoir, old lad,” Gervaise said to Jack on the way by. “Places to go, traitors to name.”

As he passed, Jack lifted his head. “One more thing, Gervaise. If you ever so much as mention my wife or son again, I won’t waste my time with a duel. I’ll strangle you with my bare hands. And, Gervaise?” Jack’s smile was wolfish. “You wouldn’t be the first person it’s happened to.”

“Your son?” Gervaise gaped at Livvie. “Well, I’ll be damned. He’s not dead after all.”

“No, Gervaise. He isn’t.”

Instead of railing at Livvie’s perfidy, Gervaise laughed all the way out the door.

He was quickly forgotten as Livvie lifted her face to a smiling Jack. “Ah, my girl,” he said. “What troubles I have set upon you.”

She knew that fresh tears slid down her cheeks. “I told you,” she said. “I’ve forgiven you.”

He shook his head, lifting his hand to cup her face. “I wouldn’t be quite so quick with your forgiveness, if I were you. I’d make me work hard for it.”

Olivia knew Jack felt her stiffen. She wanted so desperately just to love him and let the devil take the hindmost. But her experience had come at too dear a price, the life she had to protect far more precious than her own.

Jack rested his forehead against hers. “Let me make a start, Liv. Please. Let me resettle you somewhere safe and visit. Let me woo you all over again.”

The tears were running unchecked down her face now. “I’d like to try.”

Slowly, so very slowly that she all but lost patience with him, Jack lowered his head until his lips touched hers. His arm tightened around her, and he spent the next minutes kissing her as if she were the most precious thing on earth.

“And now, my girl,” he said, gently setting her away, “it’s to bed with you. Alone. I’d appreciate it if you’d at least dream of me, though. I’m off to do battle with the Wyndham griffin. After that, I believe I am much overdue in making the acquaintance of a very small boy.”

Livvie could barely sit still. She and Jack had been traveling all day toward Shoreham so they could save time by sailing to Devon, and she was out of patience. She wanted to see her son, and he was still at least a day away.

They had stopped at one of Jack’s homes, Oak Grove, a lovely redbrick Queen Anne estate on the slopes of the South Downs. Any other time, she would have loved to tramp across the manicured lawns or wander farther afield up to where she could see to the coast. But she could think of nothing but how far she still was from Jamie.

She was so afraid. She had had no contact with Georgie for seven months. Were they all right? Was Jamie growing and healthy? Would he know her? Would he run to her, just as he had every time before, as if he’d been waiting for her by the window? Would he shriek when she lifted him up and swung him around, and would he still have that wonderful little-boy smell?

Oh, God, she couldn’t bear the wait.

Squeezing her eyes shut, she prayed for patience. For wisdom. For judgment. She had finally opened that special, well-locked box that held all her love for her little boy, and the sweet agony of it flooded through her.

That left only one box to sit alone on that far, top shelf, and it held a long-ago dream she still wasn’t quite ready to examine. The dream of her family. Jack and Jamie and her together. Possibly other children. Breathless days keeping up with their little boy. Quiet evenings spent curled up by the fireplace, nights lost in love.

It was a wish too fragile to take down and examine yet. An old dream that had been shattered and waited in the dark to be mended.

“You’re supposed to be eating something,” she heard.

Startled, she turned to see Jack walking into the room. Just as she did every time she saw him, she felt her heart stumble and lift. His tobacco-brown Bath superfine jacket still hung a bit loosely on him, but otherwise he was beginning to look so much healthier. His face was certainly looking better than hers.

Would she frighten Jamie? She was black and blue, and her scar was pink and puckered. She’d never had any claim to beauty before, but now… she’d seen women turn from her in one inn.

And here was Jack, smiling on her as if she were his first sight of home.

“I can’t eat,” she said, looking down at the muffin she’d picked apart. “I want to go.”

“Soon enough,” he said, stepping up to the table. “Sam’s fixing a broken trace on the harness.”

She almost got up to pace. Then she saw that Jack was holding something in his hands and staring at it as if afraid of it. Suddenly it occurred to her he was as nervous as she.

“Jack? Is something wrong?”

He looked up to flash her a chagrined smile. “I need to speak with you.”

That quickly, her knees gave out from under her. “Something is wrong.”

“No.” He pulled out the chair kitty-corner from her and sat. “I, uh, was going to give these to you sooner. And then later.” He laughed like a green youth trying to hand a girl a bouquet of wildflowers. “I have something for you, Livvie, and I want to give it to you before we meet Jamie. I think it’s important.”

“What?” she asked, suddenly afraid. “Is it your family? Your father? Is he objecting? You promised that they were… were…”

His smile was gentle as he laid a hand over hers to calm her. “They would like to know Jamie, too. But they will not interfere. I told you I’d protect you from powerful marquesses and I will. No, Liv. This is between you and me.”

She struggled to slow her breathing. She was so close to home. But she’d been disappointed before.

“What is it, Jack?” she demanded. “Please. I’ve lost my taste for surprises.”

When he looked up, it was with a shy smile that caught her heart. “I know this is unwieldy, Liv. I’ve been arguing with myself all the way here. But I’ve thought of what I could do to ease your fears about Jamie and your future. Even if we don’t end up as a family, I don’t want you to ever again be afraid.”

Livvie saw now that it was documents he held. He looked down at them a moment and then, abruptly, handed them to her.

Suddenly nervous herself, she picked up the first. “It’s a deed,” she said, looking up to see the uncertainty in his eyes.

He nodded. “To this property. You seem to like it here, and it’s mine to give. I have deeded it to you and Jamie, free and clear. No matter what happens, it is yours. And it will support you. It is a very profitable little place.”

She looked down at the deed that was suddenly trembling in her hands, then back up to Jack. “But why?”

He took her free hand in his. “I took everything away from you, Livvie,” he said, and suddenly there were tears in his eyes. “I never want that to be possible again.”

She felt answering tears burn her chest. She didn’t know what to do. What to say. It was too much. She thought her heart might shatter with it.

“There’s another document,” he said, nudging the second paper forward.

She swiped the tears from her eyes and picked it up. Jack let go of her hand and rose to his feet, as if he couldn’t watch while she read. She realized that he’d gone dead silent, and it made her even more afraid.

The document was thicker than the deed, and it bristled with seals and tape. She opened it as if it were one of her boxes, barely overcoming the urge to close her eyes before she saw what it was. But she smoothed the pages and began to read.

Then she read them again. She checked all the signatures, but they didn’t help her understand. She looked up at Jack to see him standing utterly still.

“Can you do this?” she asked, her voice hushed and raw.

“I can. I did.” His quick grin was so like the Jack grins of old, brash and bright. So like his little boy’s. “Although I had the devil’s own work to accomplish it. As you can imagine, the marquess was not best pleased. But I told him that if he ever tried to interfere in Jamie’s life again, he’d never see either of us as long as he lived. The pater might be a tartar, but he does bear a certain fondness for me.”

She was surprised by a sob. “But, Jack…”

He knelt by her and took her free hand. “I love you, Livvie. I always will. But in the end, we might not marry again. You need to know, no matter what, that you’re safe. This document appoints you sole guardian of Jamie until such time you choose to change your mind.”

“But you’re his father.”

He shrugged. “We’re divorced. This way, even my father has no rights to Jamie unless you say so. No one will ever try and take your child again, Liv. On my honor.”

She was weeping in earnest now, great, gulping sobs that only made him smile. “Here,” he said, taking the documents and slipping them into his coat pocket. “We don’t want the ink to run.”

He took her into his arms then, and suddenly she was on her knees, too, her head buried against his chest, five years of grief and sorrow and loneliness pouring out of her like old poison. He stroked her hair and rocked her and murmured that it was all right, that she was safe now, that he would never desert them again as long as they lived. And deep inside her heart, the tiny kernel of hope she had cherished for the last week began to grow.

“I never cry, you know,” she gulped, laughing. “You’re making me a wet goose.”

“As long as these are happy tears,” he murmured.

“I think, Jack Wyndham,” she managed finally, smiling up at him, “that you have become the man I knew you could be when I fell in love with you five years ago.”

His eyes were as sweet as dawn as he wiped her tears away with shaking fingers. “Could you love me again, Liv?”