by Laura Landon
“I don’t know what you’d call it. It was like his mind left him and went back to before he married the baroness. He didn’t even know who she was. He kept calling for Miss Jenevieve’s mother. When the baroness came anywhere near him he told her she was an intruder and ordered her from the house.”
“I imagine that caused a stir.”
“That’s an understatement. I’ve never seen a woman with such a temper as the baroness.”
Benton rose from the pile of hay where he’d been sitting and made a cursory check of the stable. When he was satisfied they were still alone he came back.
“Then the baron began to deteriorate even more rapidly.”
“Did he have another attack?”
“That’s what we thought at first. Day by day his appetite lessened. Poor Miss Kingston continually begged her father to eat. She knew once he stopped taking nourishment he’d die.”
Benton leaned over to pick up a blade of straw and chewed on the stem. “I think the baron tired of his daughter’s constant insistence that he clean his plate and decided to make her think he was eating when what he was really doing was dropping a large portion of the food on his tray out his window.”
Jack smiled at the trick Jenna’s father played on his daughter.
“A stray cat found the food the baron had thrown to the garden below and ate it,” Benton continued, “and died.”
The smile on Jack’s face faded. “Bloody hell!”
“Oh, no one mourned the cat’s passing,” Benton continued. “He’d developed a fondness for Cook’s young pheasants and had made himself quite unpopular.”
“Do you know who was poisoning Kingston?”
“Need you ask?”
“How was she doing it?”
“Sometimes she met the servant delivering the baron’s tray and insisted on examining what Cook had prepared for him. Other times she delivered the tray herself, using the excuse that it was her duty to see to her husband’s welfare.”
“Is that when Miss Kingston took her father into hiding?”
Benton nodded.
“With your help?” Jack asked, needing to discover exactly what role Benton played at Kingston Manor other than his role as butler.
“I discovered what Lady Kingston had been doing the same time as Miss Kingston and together we devised the plan to keep him safe. I offered to assist in whatever way I could.”
“Have the Chisolms been hired by your employer, too?” Jack asked.
Benton laughed out loud. “No, Miss Kingston chose them herself. She said they were long-time tenants and she trusted them to protect her father.”
“So what have you learned? What is the baroness involved in and who is involved with her?”
“You get right to the point, don’t you?”
“The ball is in three days. The more we find out before the guests arrive the more prepared we’ll be.”
Benton propped an elbow against the top wooden board of the stall. “I received word that the Londonaire will arrive the day after tomorrow.”
“What cargo is it carrying?”
Benton shook his head. “Nothing special—tea, coffee, spices. It set sail from the East Indies, and according to a reliable source, it made one unscheduled stop at a secluded port on the coast of Africa.”
Jack was silent for several seconds while he mulled over this latest information. Something about what Benton said jarred the memory of a bit of information he’d heard while in London. What was it?
Jack paced the narrow confines of the stall while he forced his mind to think. Africa. What connection had there been to Africa?
He anchored his outstretched arm against the rough wood of the stable and stared down at the straw-covered ground. The only person he’d talked to was Jeremy Watkins, who’d served with him in the Crimea. Jeremy still worked with the government and he’d mentioned something about a ring of smugglers operating off the coast of Africa. What was it he said they were smuggling?
“Jade,” Jack said still looking down at the straw at his feet.
“What did you say?” Benton asked, stepping closer.
“Jade. They’re smuggling in jade.”
Benton dropped his head back on his shoulders. “Of course. I knew it had to be something important or it wouldn’t have created the interest of such high-ranking people.
Jack made some assumptions of his own. “Bypassing the Queen’s coffers has a tendency to irritate Her Highness. I imagine several of her closest advisors were concerned.”
Benton smiled and gave Jack a nod that he took as a gesture of affirmation.
“Can you get a message to London before tomorrow night?” Jack asked.
“Yes.”
“Someone needs to watch the docks for the arrival of the Londonaire. It’s important, though, that they don’t make any arrests. Just keep the shipment under surveillance. I doubt that whoever collects the smuggled shipment will be the person we want. If we move too fast we’ll never discover who’s at the head of the smuggling ring.”
“You don’t think that person is Lady Kingston or her brother?” Benton asked.
Jack shook his head. “I wish I did. They would be the least dangerous.”
“The guests will begin arriving the day after tomorrow. If anyone intends to stop the wedding....”
Jack wanted to make a flippant comment that he wasn’t worried as long as he had Benton watching his back, but he was worried. Even Benton couldn’t watch him every minute of every day.
“If something happens to me,” he said facing Benton, “get Jenna away from here as fast as you can.”
“Nothing’s going to—”
“She has an aunt in London. But then, you know that. Take her there. When you’re sure she’s safe, come back for her father. I don’t care if you have to bring an army to do it, get him to London, too.”
The two men stared at each other. Jack could tell from the expression on Benton’s face that he knew better than to repeat his promise that nothing would happen to him.
“I want your word,” Jack said, unwilling to accept anything less.
“You have it.”
“Good. Now let’s get back before we’ve been missed.”
“You go first,” Benton said. “I’ll wait a few minutes to make sure no one followed you.”
Jack nodded, then hesitated. “Miss Kingston has a few errands and I told her I’d escort her to the village. Perhaps you and Maggie can find an excuse to accompany us.”
“I’ll be ready, but I’m not sure what good Maggie will be.”
“Perhaps as company for you so my betrothed and I can have a little time to ourselves.”
“No insult intended, Lord Devlin, but just because you’ve discovered the softer side of a woman doesn’t mean I’m looking for the same. Besides, I’m not sure Maggie has a soft side.”
Jack laughed. “I think she does if someone searches a little to find it.”
Jack ignored the muffled curse he heard from Benton and left the stable.
He needed to make his way to the house and try to sleep for a few hours before facing the day. Now he wished he hadn’t promised Jenna he’d accompany her. If someone tried to kill him, he didn’t want her to witness it. Or be at risk because of it.
He didn’t want her anywhere near death and dying. But if he was going to die, she’s the only one he wanted near.
Jack walked back to the house wondering if Jenna would feel the same way.
. . .
Jenna allowed herself to revel in the feel of her hand in Jack’s. The Kingston carriage rocked smoothly except for the occasional rutted jolt that knocked her shoulder into Jack’s. She found she didn’t mind that in the least.
Benton drove and Maggie sat beside him on the bench, leaving Jack and Jenna to let the world slide by.
“I think I must buy a new pair of gloves when we get to the village. I shall spare no expense in my endeavor to please my new wife.”
“How very thoughtfu
l of you.” Jenna laughed at his pompous air.
“That’s what I aim to be. Thoughtful and considerate and everything else it might take until you trust me.”
Jenna paused. He made light of the subject, but behind his grin she saw his concern. She wanted him to understand. She wanted him to know she trusted him in everything. Everything except one.
She clasped his hand and looked into his eyes. “If it were just me, I’d trust you with my life. But there’s more. There’s my father I need to take care of.”
“You don’t think I can protect your father?”
“I think you would do everything in your power to make sure Eleanor didn’t find him, but if something happened to you...”
Jenna couldn’t finish her sentence. Jack’s arm wrapped around her shoulder and pulled her toward him. “Nothing’s going to happen to me.”
“I know, Jack. But if something happened and you couldn’t get to him in time...”
“What has she threatened you with?”
At first Jenna didn’t say anything. How could she tell him what Eleanor had threatened to do to her father? He was a man. He wouldn’t see the danger she did. He would think he could protect her father against anything.
Jenna studied him as he waited for her to give him an answer. He emanated strength from every inch of his body. He displayed an emotional intensity that gave everyone who met him cause to consider their actions before they moved.
Even Eleanor was wary of him.
She doubted Jack had ever felt helpless in his life.
“How has she threatened you?” he asked again.
Her resolve not to tell him quivered on a tenuous thread, and then he lifted her hand to his lips and kissed the back of her kid glove. She sighed and closed her eyes.
“Eleanor has threatened to put Father in an asylum for the insane if I don’t marry Ridgeway, but so far I’ve held her off. I’m past my majority so she can’t force the issue. She can, however, threaten to lock my father away, and she will—if she ever finds him.”
“Benton told me you took him to the Chisolm’s because she was giving your father large doses of laudanum.”
“Yes, I think she wanted to make sure Father never recovered. But her attempts were useless. You’ve seen him. You know how vulnerable he is. He’s a sick man. Not only is his body weak, but so is his mind.”
The countryside around them blurred from the wetness in her eyes. “He still thinks Mama is here with us. He’s blocked Eleanor from his mind and thinks she’s an intruder in our home. Eleanor hates him. She hates us both.”
Jenna looked away from Jack so he couldn’t see how much what she was telling him affected her.
“She has men hired to search for Papa. They’ve combed the countryside for him, but haven’t found him yet. Chisolm’s place is so close to the manor they seem to practically overlook it. Your betrothal offer hasn’t only saved me, it’s saved Papa too. If I want to make sure Papa’s taken care of for the rest of his life, I’ll marry Ridgeway. If I don’t, the minute she finds him, she’ll lock him away in an asylum. And it won’t be a place where he’ll get any kind of decent care.”
“I won’t let that happen,” Jack said in the most resolute tone she’d ever heard him use.
“I know you won’t. But what if you don’t have a choice? The only person who is safe is me! Eleanor won’t let anything happen to me because there’s still a chance I’ll marry Ridgeway and make her rich.”
Jack stared straight ahead while Benton guided the team down the path toward the village.
She’d offended him. She knew enough about the male species to know she’d questioned his ability to protect her father and he’d taken that as an insult.
“I’m sorry,” she said when he remained silent. “I didn’t mean to be so outspoken.”
“You were being truthful. You placed all the facts into the open so I would understand. That’s the way it should always be between us.”
Jenna didn’t have a chance to say more because Benton stopped the carriage in front of the rectory. Reverend Drisup and his wife, who lived at the edge of town in a small but charming clapboard house next to the church, were just walking up the narrow stone pathway that connected the church to the rectory. They saw Jenna and came toward the carriage. Jenna mentally double-checked the number of extra helpers she’d have Mrs. Drisup send to Kingston Manor for the next week.
“Lord Devlin,” Reverend Drisup said, acknowledging Jack with a polite nod. “How pleasant to see you. And Miss Kingston.”
“Oh, Jenevieve,” Mrs. Drisup said, gathering Jenna’s hand in her own. “I can’t tell you how pleased I am for you. When Lord Devlin stopped on his way to Kingston Manor and told us your news, I was so elated I could barely contain myself.”
“Thank you,” Jenna answered, looking up at Jack. He was smiling at her. “I’m rather delighted myself,” she said, forcing herself to shift her gaze back to Mrs. Drisup.
“Well, come inside,” Reverend Drisup said, motioning for Jack to accompany him to the house. “We can’t have you standing outside in the chill.”
“No, no,” Mrs. Drisup echoed as she hooked her arm through Jenna’s and led her up the walk. “Not when there’s fresh peach pie still warm from the oven.”
“That sounds delicious,” Jenna heard Jack say.
“To what do we owe this pleasant visit?” Mrs. Drisup asked, her voice brimming with excitement.
“As well you know,” Jenna smiled, “Kingston Manor will be entertaining several guests for the next week or so, and I came to ask if you know of some local girls who would be available to help out our staff.”
“Of course,” Mrs. Drisup offered. “There are several who would be more than willing. A little added income at this time of year is a Godsend for many of them.”
“Come in,” Reverend Drisup said, opening the door for Jenna and his wife. Jack entered next. “Let’s go in where we can visit, then you can give Miss Kingston the names while we sample that peach pie.”
“Oh, yes. Come right this way,” Martha Drisup said, hooking her arm through Jenna’s and leading her into the house.
Jenna turned to look back at Jack and caught his slow smile. Her heart tripped over itself. She knew a day wouldn’t go by that she wouldn’t look forward to seeing that smile and knowing it was meant for her.
. . .
Jack kept Jenna close to him as she turned to wave farewell to Reverend and Mrs. Drisup. They’d been away from the manor far longer than Jack had intended, but he’d found Reverend Drisup a fascinating man with a broad knowledge on any number of subjects.
He’d like to say Jenna was to blame for the hour they’d stayed, but in truth, he’d been the one reluctant to leave. But at some point while they were indoors, dark clouds had moved in and the sun was no longer in sight.
They were going to get rained upon.
“I think we’d best hurry, Jenna. Those clouds look like they’d love to dump a great deal of rain on us.”
Jenna looked up and smiled. “My stepmother would love to see me with the sniffles for my wedding.”
Jack laughed. “Your stepmother would love to find an excuse to keep you in bed so you missed your wedding entirely.”
Jenna was on the first step of the carriage, and turned. The glimmer in her eyes as she looked down at him melted his heart. Jack kept his hands anchored on her waist, but reared back a few inches to give her a serious look.
A spate of thunder rolled across the sky, and within the fading rumble they heard a muffled pop. The glimmer in her eyes dimmed, and with a brief whimper Jenna slumped forward.
Her right hand dropped as if she didn’t have the strength to hold it up, and she reached her left hand across her body to clutch her upper arm.
“Jenna!”
Jack reacted with his battle-won instincts, but not before Jenna collapsed into his arms, her beatific smile transformed to one of confusion.
She had been shot.
THE DEVIL�
�S GIFT by Laura Landon
Chapter 21
Jack pulled Jenna to him and shielded her body between his own and the carriage. He heard the faint sound of a horse galloping away and heard Benton making defensive maneuvers to protect Maggie.
“Jenna?”
Jack knelt and rested her limp form on his knee. With one finger he gently tipped her face up. Her cheeks were deathly pale but her eyes were open and she looked up at him.
“I’m fine, Jack. I—really I am.”
“Of course you are, sweetheart.”
She tried to sit up but was startled by her own soft moan before she sagged back and clutched at his coat.
“Lie still,” Jack warned as he brushed a strand of golden hair from her forehead. “We’ll get you into the house as soon as we’re sure it’s safe.”
Jack watched Benton rush from the carriage to a small tool shed. He was being cautious, but Jack felt certain that whoever had shot Jenna was gone.
“There’s no one there,” Benton said when he returned.
Jack scooped Jenna into his arms and rushed toward the rectory where Reverend Drisup waited in the open door.
. . .
The last vestiges of twilight had been overtaken by nightfall by the time Jack and Jenna left the rectory. A carefully applied bandage had fixed up Jenna’s arm where a bullet had sliced the skin. Jenna declared that she was ‘right as rain’ once Mrs. Drisup found a shawl to cover her damaged sleeve.
“Are you sure you can do this?” Jack asked Jenna for the third time. They were almost at Kingston Manor and he wanted to be certain she was strong enough to look and act surprised at the silly notion that she might have been shot. It was key to the plan they’d hatched in the Drisup parlor.
“Yes. It’s late enough that perhaps Eleanor and Brackston have already retired for the evening, though.”
Jack smiled. “I have a feeling they’re both pacing the floor waiting for us.”
Jenna leaned her head against his shoulder. “So do I. But we both know this is the only way to find out whether Brackston was the one who shot at me. His reaction when I walk in will be a telling sign.”
“Don’t leave my side,” Jack said, turning the carriage into the lane that led to the house. “If you feel faint, squeeze my hand and I’ll get you out of there.”