Seduced (21 page)

Jack nodded. “I am happy for War and Claire, though I consider Francesca to be my niece as well.”

The faces of all the men softened a fraction and Woodley reached out a hand. “She is lucky to have you.”

Jack stared for a moment at the outstretched offering, but then shook it. It was entirely surreal to do so. Shake hands with a man of such rank? He never would have guessed it would happen when he was a child. Nor would he have ever guessed that a lady of rank and privilege like Letitia would cause him such desire and consternation.

“Would you all mind very much if I stole my brother away a moment?” Jack asked. “I have something to discuss with him.”

He felt War stiffen slightly beside him. His brother had always been able to read the subtleties of his tone and he must have sensed the undercurrent to it now.

“Certainly,” Woodley said as the others nodded. “I’m sure we’ll all talk later.”

War motioned toward the exit of the ballroom, and Jack followed him out and into a parlor close by. War shut the door behind them and then folded his arms.

“What’s wrong?”

Jack flinched. “I do hate that you can read my mind.”

“No, just your expression,” War said.

“Same difference.” Jack sighed. “But that means there’s no point in dancing about what I have to say. You may be in danger.”

War straightened and his hands moved to clench at his side as if he were already preparing for attack. “Why?”

“You said it yourself that since Aston’s death there have been vultures circling, trying to fill the empty space of rival that the bastard once filled.” Jack shook his head. “I played it off earlier, but one of them is truly dangerous. We just found out that Madman O’Malley is after me.”

War stood, staring stone-faced at him. There was no indication of what his brother thought or felt about that news. War was good at that reticence. It had served him well.

“I’ll send Claire and Francesca to Idleridge, and I’ll stay,” War finally said, and it was through clenched teeth.

Jack took a step toward him. “Don’t be a fool. You’ve gotten free of this life, War. I wouldn’t ask you to come back.”

“You did six months ago,” War said softly.

“Things were different then. You weren’t married, you weren’t father to one, almost two children.” Jack sighed. “I’m not telling you this in order to obtain your help. I have good men under me and we’ll work it out. I’m telling you so that you’re on your guard. I doubt Madman will go after you, especially since you’re leaving London, but I’d be a bastard not to tell you if there is even the smallest chance that he’ll see you as a way to hurt me.”

“I’m not leaving you,” War said.

Jack jerked his head up, staring at his brother. All the unspoken emotion he’d felt for so long bubbled up in him. “You already did.” His voice cracked even though he didn’t want it to. It showed everything that burned inside his chest.

War’s face went rigid, a mask of frozen pain. The fact that he had walked away from Jack ten years ago had always been a sore point between them. One they had never truly discussed. Now it hung in the room between them, darkening the mood even further.

“I did walk away,” War admitted. “You know why.”

Jack frowned. “You believed I was responsible for the death of that boy on one of the jobs.”

“Owen Dixon,” War said. His tone was suddenly admonishing.

“Yes, I know his name.” Jack paced away. “You think I’m so cold that I don’t? I remember the name of every man who has died under my employ, Warrick. I could recite them for you now if you feel it would be enough penance.”

His brother huffed out a breath. “I’m not asking you to pay penance.”

“You didn’t have to ask. You just made me pay it.” Jack moved on him. “Wasn’t that what abandoning me for a decade was about? It was the worst price you could think of to make me pay. And I paid it, brother. Every day. Every month. Every year.”

“I didn’t leave to make you pay,” War said, his voice suddenly soft. “I left because I knew it was
my
fault Dixon died. I was responsible for him. I was responsible to you. He died and I just saw, in that brief moment as he lay bleeding in my arms, every bit of truth about the life we were leading. We pretended it was fun, but it was only brutal. Only ugly. And in the end, it would destroy us both. I left because I didn’t want you to see me dying in your arms one day. And I couldn’t bear the thought of you dying in mine. I still can’t.”

Jack bent his head. There had been many nights he’d been woken from nightmares of War’s death. One night it hadn’t been a nightmare, but a reality.

“You almost died on me, six months ago,” Jack said, remembering his brother’s pale face, the life bleeding out of him as Claire screamed at him to stay with her. He had gone numb that night, almost unable to move as inside he screamed along with her.

War cleared his throat and adjusted slightly, making Jack painfully aware of how his younger brother was still damaged by the events of that night.

“I didn’t die, though,” he reminded Jack. “But
you
may still. Please, walk away from your life here. Come to the country with us, start over like I did.”

For a brief moment, Jack had a picture of the life War described. Quiet and calm, which normally would have made his whole body itch with disquiet, but on this occasion it didn’t. Because in this fantasy, he wasn’t alone. In his fantasy, Letitia stepped out beside him, one hand in his, one hand touching her pregnant belly.

He turned away from the picture in his mind. The thing that could never be, for a wide variety of reasons.

“People depend on me, War, you know that. If I just walk away, it will increase the chaos of those competing for the crown. Good men, loyal men, will die. So I will stay and see this to the end.”

“The bitter end?” War asked. Jack shook his head and War moved toward him swiftly, catching his arms and shaking. “I shouldn’t have abandoned you, Jack. I should have taken you with me. I have regretted that many times, but none more than now. Please, I love you and I don’t want to lose you, not when we’ve found each other again.”

War yanked him into an unexpected hug and Jack let his arms come around him. His brother was younger but half a foot taller, and yet War trembled as he clung to Jack, like he was afraid. Like he was terrified. For Jack.

“Just
think
about changing your life,” War said, then released him and stepped away. “Please.”

Jack felt the lump forming in his throat, and he nodded. “I’ll think about what you’ve said. But don’t count on me changing, War. I have no one else to be. And nowhere else to go.”

His brother’s face fell and he turned away. “If you believe that, then I know I’ve already lost you. I must return to the party, Claire will be looking for me. Thank you for telling me about the danger. I’ll take all proper precautions. Good night.”

War said nothing more, but left the room without so much as a backward glance. Jack almost buckled from the pain of that exit. It reminded him far too much of a similar departure a decade before. Losing War then had nearly killed him. He had no doubt the pain would be similar now.

Because this time his brother had offered him a lifeline, a way out. And Jack knew that would never happen again. He was well and truly alone now.

And he’d never felt it more.

Letty watched as Jack pulled two drinks from the tray of a passing footman. She tensed, waiting for him to approach her, as she had been waiting the last half hour since he returned to the ballroom. Instead, he downed one then the other and practically tossed the empty glasses into the nearest potted plant on the outside edge of the room.

She scowled. There was something going on with Jack. And he was clearly avoiding her. A big part of her wanted to just accept that. Run away. Let this be over on his terms and try to simply forget.

But there was another part, smaller but growing stronger, that knew she deserved better than this treatment from him. She deserved to be told honestly if he was finished with her. She deserved to have a say in her own future.

Jack had taught her that. Now she was going to use it against him. If only she could muster the courage.

She drew a few long breaths and marched across the room toward him. Her blood was rushing in her ears and her hands shook as she stepped up to him. Still, she managed to reach out, press a hand to his forearm and tug to turn him toward her. His face first brightened as he saw her, and she was filled with hope. But then it fell just as quickly and everything in her world faded slightly.

It was too late to turn back now, though. “Jack,” she said, keeping her voice soft. “You’ve been avoiding me all night.”

He swallowed hard, and the hesitation was enough for her to know she was correct in her assessment. “It’s better this way, Letitia,” he replied, and tried to turn away again.

She kept her grip firm on his arm to make him stay. “Better for you? Because it sure as hell doesn’t feel better for me.”

His eyebrows raised at her blunt words, and for a moment he almost seemed impressed by her directness. But then his face fell again, and this time she saw his emotions more clearly. He was pained. There was deep and powerful sadness in his stare, as well as worry. She saw it all in the brief moment he allowed her that privilege, and then he masked it all with his usual nonchalant smile.

“Haven’t you had enough slumming, my lady?” he drawled. “Your problem is solved, so go find someone else to play with.”

Again she was torn into two pieces. The one that told her to accept his rejection with some dignity and walk away forever. The other that said he needed her, even if he didn’t want to show her that.

The second won. She tugged at him, drawing him toward the terrace. “We are talking about this privately,” she insisted.

To her surprise, he followed her with little resistance. That told her enough that he was in a wild, emotional state. Jack under normal circumstances would not have surrendered quite so easily.

They moved out into the cool night air and she shut the door behind them, sucking in gulps of it to calm herself.

She had never been so bold—or so terrified—in her life.

But as she stared at Jack, who had loosened himself from her grip and walked to the terrace wall, where he looked out at the dark garden below, she couldn’t turn back. In the moonlight, his upset seemed even clearer, and she felt an intense drive to help him.

To love him.

She jolted as that thought invaded her mind. What was worse was what followed: the recognition that she
did
love him. This wild, uncouth, entirely unacceptable man was the only man she wanted in this world or any other. She loved him.

But as he turned to her, wiping his face clear of the emotions he had earlier been unable to control, she feared she had made a mistake in falling for him. He was nothing like Noah, and yet they were the same. Neither of them were capable of giving her what she needed. Noah because he couldn’t.

Jack because he wouldn’t.

She saw that, and yet she still loved him fiercely and wanted to help him.

“What is wrong with you?” she asked.

His face hardened. “Right now I’m being held all but hostage by a very determined lady.”

She folded her arms. “I
am
determined. Determined to get past this shell you have folded around yourself for protection. Damn it, Jack, we know each other. I can see you are in pain and I’m offering you help.”

“We know each other?” he laughed, but there was no humor in the sound. “No, Letitia. We don’t. You certainly don’t know me. You know the man I’ve let you see.”

She shook her head. “You are trying to imply that I’ve been seduced by a practiced lie you told me. But I don’t believe you. I know I’ve seen deeper into your soul than just that. And I know that when I look at you know I see the brokenness that you don’t want anyone else in the world to identify.”

His face changed at that accusation. She saw the surprise, the shock, the almost frantic attempt to rein in the emotions she had seen on his face. He nearly succeeded, but she still saw remnants in his eyes.

“You were a game to me, Letty.”

She bit her lip. He’d never called her by her nickname before. To him, she was always Letitia. Letitia felt special. Now he distanced himself by making himself just like everyone else. Everyone else who’d never looked any deeper at her.

“I don’t believe you,” she repeated, even though it felt like he was stabbing her right now. “What is wrong, Jack? Why are you in pain? I can see it even though you try to hide. And I know that you are lashing out at me just the way an animal in a trap would do to a person trying to set him free. But I won’t walk away, Jack. I won’t. So tell me the truth.”

He struggled for a moment. She saw him fighting a war, and then he scowled at her. It was a dark look, one she knew many a man had seen before and suffered because of. And yet she wasn’t afraid. She couldn’t be afraid of anything anymore, except losing him.

“You want to know what’s wrong, Letitia?” he snapped, his finger coming to close around her upper arms. “You want to hear me spill out all the ugly things inside of me? Is that all that will drive you away at last? Then get ready, my lady. Because you’re going to get what you bargained for and more.”