by Gaelen Foley
I’m here, darling.
He said nothing, but the tension in his face eased slightly, and she caught the flicker of emotion in his eyes. Her slight smile offered reassurance: His grateful nod in answer was barely perceptible, but he lifted his chin and squared his shoulders, and then he was ready, just as the butler opened the door.
“Good Lord—old Walshie!” Jack exclaimed, lifting his eyebrows. “I’d forgotten all about you!”
“Why, thank you, sir,” the stately butler intoned as he opened the door wider, admitting them with a smooth bow into the white marble magnificence of the ducal residence.
Eden gazed in awe at the sweeping, curved staircase that floated up to the main floor without visible support. A towering crystal chandelier hung overhead, as big as a waterfall.
“I trust that you are well?” Jack asked, looking genuinely pleased to see the longtime family butler.
“Persevering, sir. How kind of you to ask.”
“I tell you, man, you haven’t aged in twenty years. Uncanny.” Jack gave the stately servant a roguish clap on the shoulder. “Perhaps a bit more gray in the side-whiskers, is all.”
“Indubitably, my lord. Madam, may I take your wrap?”
“Thank you,” Eden responded, giving the dignified fellow a smile as Jack lifted the swathe of silk off her shoulders and handed it to the man, making a quick introduction between her and Mr. Walsh.
“Well, where are they, then?”
Before Mr. Walsh could answer his question, a high-pitched shriek pierced their ears.
“Jack!”
A slim figure came darting out of the room to their right in a blur of yellow satin and a flurry of bouncy gold curls.
“Jacinda?” He turned just in time as she came barreling over and leaped on him.
“Oh, my dear, dear long-lost brother!” she cried, joyfully kissing his cheeks and his brow. “Is it really you? I can’t believe you’re here at last!”
Jack was laughing as he hugged his exuberant sister. He swung her around in a circle and then set her down, holding her at arm’s length. “Let me have a look at you now, girl!” Jacinda had big, brown eyes and rosy cheeks, and was every bit the creature of sparkle and vivacity that Eden might have expected after reading her letters.
“My baby sister,” he murmured in amazement, shaking his head as he studied her, clearly marveling over the woman she had become. “Now the grand Marchioness of Truro and Saint Austell!”
“Oh, stop,” she retorted.
“God’s teeth, you were as big as a minute the last time I saw you,” he said softly.
“I know.” With a rueful smile, Jacinda brushed her tears away and then turned to Eden with a warm and heartfelt smile. “You must be Eden! Hullo!” Lady Jacinda took both of her hands, beaming at her. “I can’t believe Jack’s married! But I see he has excellent judgment. Welcome, my dear, new sister.” Eden blushed as Jacinda hugged her, then she pulled Jack over to them and hung on his arm. “Come with me, both of you,” the young marchioness ordered with a sniffle. Eden took Jack’s other arm as Jacinda steered them toward the grand curved staircase. “Everyone’s in the music room now. You have us all in a whirl! Oh, I can’t wait for you to meet all the children, Jack, and Billy, and Beau—and Eden, everyone’s dying to make your acquaintance! The lady who brought our Jack back to us! When Robert told me you were back in Town, I wanted to rush over and see you at once, but he thought it might be better to give you two a little time alone, and you know Rob, he’s always right, it’s really quite impossible to argue with him….”
Her eager prattle continued, and Eden remained attentive, but she could tell Jack was a bit overwhelmed. He was staring all around him as though waves of pained memories were washing through him with everything he saw.
At the top of the curved staircase, Jacinda led them down a broad, formal corridor graced by alabaster statues atop chest-high pedestals. The ruckus of childish voices that echoed to them from an open doorway ahead seemed quite at odds with the pristine formality of the marble hallway.
When they arrived at the music room, Eden beheld a slew of small children tumbling about every which way amid the most impressive collection of adults she had ever laid eyes on.
Jacinda undertook the introductions, but Eden was so nervous that it was all a bit of a blur. Each of his brothers was more handsome than the next, except, of course, for the twins, who were perfectly identical, with their jet-black hair and gray eyes. Damien was every bit as impressive in his bearing as she could have expected of a bonafide war-hero, while Lucien, his twin, was more laid back, mild-mannered—but with the studied idleness of a man shrewdly noticing everything.
Robert had the same dark eyes as his sister, and, of course, golden-haired Alec stood out because he looked like an earthbound god and never seemed to stop cracking wry jokes.
Jacinda’s Billy seemed a far more serious fellow than his boyish nickname had led Eden to expect. The others called him Rackford. Someone finally explained this had been his courtesy title before he had inherited the marquisate, and it had stuck. He had sandy blond hair and some fierce quality in his greenish eyes that reminded Eden of Jack.
The two hard men took each other’s measure in a glance, as though identifying in each other some underlying savage quality that they shared in common—kindred spirits.
Beaming as her husband and her long-lost brother shook hands, Jacinda continued bouncing her beautiful son, Beau, on her hip. She told Eden the names of all the little boys, but it would be a while before she could remember who was who. There were seven of them in total, all of them under the age of eight.
Lizzie, who had been mentioned in the letters, turned out to be a sort of second sister to the family, as Eden soon learned. Except for Cousin Amelia, she did not think she had ever met a gentler or more pleasant person. Orphaned as a child and made a ward to the duke, Lizzie had functioned as lady’s companion to Jacinda, and had grown up with them all. She was married now to the handsome Devlin, Lord Strathmore. He, in turn, immediately started asking Eden about her father’s work, a neutral subject she was happy to discuss. Perhaps Lord Strathmore had an interest in scientific pursuits, but Eden suspected he was simply being kind and offering conversation to put the newcomer at ease.
Meanwhile, Jack greeted his brothers, in turn, and briefly met their ladies. There was some degree of awkwardness, which was, no doubt, to be expected; but whatever trace of stony defensiveness that Jack had clung to from the moment they had walked in, it was dissolved by his two-year-old niece, Lucien’s daughter, Pippa.
She was the only girl-child the clan had yet produced, but despite her diminutive size, she achieved in a trice what no one else in the room could have done, not even Eden: The wee thing melted Jack completely.
Tottering over to him in a frilly little dress with a big ribbon on her head, Pippa stretched up both of her hands to him, her silvery eyes like her father’s, serious and searching, needing no words to order the big man to pick her up.
Jack’s tough look softened as he bent down obligingly and picked the tot up in his arms. She sat, queenlike, in the crook of his elbow and leaned against his chest, studying her new uncle at close range.
Jack returned her curious gaze, lifting one eyebrow.
Everyone watched while Pippa stared at him for a long moment. Then she began petting his cheek. “Puppy.”
Taken off guard, Jack laughed. The child laughed, too, pleased with herself, while Lucien shook his head and let out a rather besotted sigh.
“She calls everyone a puppy.”
“No, only the people she likes,” Alice, the child’s mother, corrected.
“Do you like your uncle Jack?” Lucien asked his little girl.
In reply, Pippa gave Jack a sloppy kiss on his cheek. A soft chorus of fond ahs arose from the ladies, but Pippa suddenly lost interest, flinging herself back in her father’s direction.
“Where’s my girl?” Lucien greeted her, holding out his arms.
Alice chuckled, beaming with pride, but just then Mr. Walsh reappeared in the doorway and bowed to the duchess.
“Your Grace: Dinner is served.”
“Ah,” Bel responded, turning to them with an elegant gesture toward the door. “Shall we?”
Leaving their brood in the care of an army of nannies, nurses, governesses, and uniformed maids, they all went down to dine.
The opulent evening that unfolded exceeded all of Eden’s golden fantasies back in the jungle, daydreaming over old copies of La Belle Assemblée.
From the mahogany table draped in snowy linen damask to the sterling cutlery and fine bone china with gilded edges, the formal three-course meal began with a delicate white soup, stewed cheese, and little warm exquisite shrimp loaves.
If only her stomach weren’t so full of butterflies! It was hard to enjoy the gourmet meal in such a nervous state, but Jack was seated directly across from her, and gazing at him helped her to relax. The candlelight burnished the tips of his dark, wavy hair, forming a ruddy halo. He must have felt her stare, for he glanced over and met her gaze. At once, he offered her the trace of an intimate smile. She lifted her glass of white Rhine wine to him in a subtle toast meant to tell him he was doing well.
The footmen cleared the first course away in short order, and then the main course arrived, platter after platter, until the entire table was covered with food: Fresh-caught swordfish steaks ringed by buttered sea scallops. Steaming roast beef and marrow pudding. A golden-browned turkey with mushroom gravy. Chine of lamb. Rabbit fricassee. Jellies and syllabubs and stewed pippins. Eel pie, marinated smelts, and duck with orange sauce.
A twinge of nausea confounded Eden, but she ignored it, keeping her attention fixed on the task of protecting Jack from his siblings’ friendly intrusions. When they asked him questions that she knew he didn’t want to answer, she supplied a few diplomatic words before he could let slip a sarcastic reply.
She remained vigilant, changing the subject whenever he floundered, asking a question, seeking advice, or making a humorous remark now and then to shield him from any sense of attack that would put him on the defensive.
He caught her eye with a fleeting look of surprise, but his subtle nod expressed gratitude for her smooth show of charm.
Eden hadn’t known she’d had it in her.
She knew she was doing a good job of helping Jack feel at ease. Because of this, he was able to relate to his family in a more relaxed and cordial way, as though there had been nothing to dread all along.
When he talked about his company or his ships, this was his strong suit, and Eden was gratified to find all of them openly admiring his achievements. They were all such affable people that, at length, she was quite mystified as to why he had not wanted to be a part of this family for all these years.
As he listened to Lord Alec entertaining them all with some risqué gossip about one of his bachelor friends, Jack seemed to be asking himself the same question.
The table was soon cleared for the third course, coffee, port, and claret served alongside apple tartlets sprinkled with raisins and brown sugar.
They separated after the meal, the women retreating to the drawing room as was customary while the men remained at table for cigars and port. They reassembled within the hour, the gentlemen joining them in the drawing room, but by that time, it was growing quite late. Eden was happy but feeling worn out. Jack suggested they take their leave, and she agreed.
After this very warm reception, they were sent on their way with the whole party’s insistence that Eden and Jack accompany them to the theater tomorrow night. Jack hesitated until he saw Eden’s wide-eyed look of eagerness. He accepted the invitation graciously, then they went on their way, trundling back to the Pulteney Hotel.
After a few idle remarks, they sat in silence—but it was a very different silence than the one between them on the way there.
“How are you?” Eden asked him in a soft tone after a while.
He looked at her intently and shrugged. “All right, I guess. It wasn’t so bad.”
She smiled faintly. “I thought you were very well behaved.”
“Thank God you were there.”
The acknowledgment pleased her. “Your niece seemed to like you.”
“Pippa?” He chuckled in the darkness as the carriage rolled along smoothly down Pall Mall. “I may have to steal her.”
“I know.” Eden paused, watching the dim orange glow of the streetlamps they passed sculpting Jack’s face in shifting shadows. “I worried about you when we parted.”
“I worried about you, too. I’m sure the ladies grilled you for information.”
“Of course.”
“What did you tell them?”
“Only as much as you and I agreed upon. What about your brothers? Did they grill you?”
He smiled wryly. “Mostly they were busy praising you, and saying what a credit you were to a blackguard like me. Of course, they’re right.”
“Oh, Jack.” Her stare intensified. “I miss you.”
Sitting in the seat across from her, he leaned closer. “It doesn’t have to be like this.” He took her hands. “I’m trying, Eden.”
“I know. You hurt me, Jack.”
“I won’t do it again, I swear to you.”
“You say that, but you made me believe a lie before, so how can I know that you aren’t deceiving me now?”
“I’ve told you everything,” he said angrily, then checked his frustration. “Give me another chance.”
She felt so fragile as he crossed the space between them, moving onto the seat beside her, and gently tucking a stray curl behind her ear.
“I miss your body,” he whispered. “I need your love.”
She shuddered when he bent his head and kissed her neck, but she wasn’t sure she was ready to let him inside her again—in either sense.
Their coach rolled to a halt presently in front of the hotel, for the drive wasn’t far.
Jack gazed hungrily at her as the groom hurried to open the carriage door for them. He got out first and handed her down, escorting her inside without another word.
They walked through the lobby, side by side, drawing glances from the other guests here and there. With her silk wrap thrown over her shoulders once more and her reticule dangling from her wrist, Eden picked up the hem of her skirts and climbed the grand stairs to their rooms. Though Jack moved in silence beside her, her physical awareness of him was keen.
When they reached their suite, Jack unlocked the door and let her in. Eden brushed past him, her heart fluttering with desire; she knew he wanted her, but she was torn. She put her reticule on the console table just inside the door and began removing her long white gloves. She heard him close and lock the door behind her, and then she pulled in her breath sharply as he came up behind her and slid her wrap off her shoulders in a very sensuous fashion. She closed her eyes when he bent his head, his silken lips nuzzling her ear.
“You look so beautiful tonight,” he breathed. He ran his fingers slowly down her arm. “I can’t believe you’re mine.”
She moaned his name in a voice that was barely a whisper.
He kissed her shoulder, molding his hands to her hips. “Let me make love to you.”
She did not refuse him. She couldn’t say a word. His touch commanded her full attention. She closed her eyes and licked her lips slowly as his smooth mouth nibbled at her nape.
He was too much.
“We need each other, Eden. You need me as much as I need you.” Turning her gently to face him, Jack drew her into his arms and kissed her with drugging passion. She clung to him, so entranced with the deep, slow glide of his mouth on hers that she barely noticed him backing her toward the luxurious striped satin chaise over by the white fireplace.
The next thing she knew, he was easing her down onto it, and she was trembling as he cupped
her breast through her bodice. Her body felt so tender all over, her skin acutely sensitized. She writhed with his caress.
“Jack.”
“Come, Eden, this has gone on long enough. Let’s make up, darlin’. You know I love you.”
She caressed his face, at a loss; on his knees before her, he turned his head and captured her finger in his mouth. In rising lust, she watched him sucking her fingertips, his eyes closed. They glittered with feverish want when he dragged them open again, and turned his attention to the task of loosening her bodice.
She withdrew her fingertip from his wet mouth and leaned forward to kiss him anew, holding his face between her hands. Within moments, his touch ran all over her, clutching her greedily under her gown. His kisses traveled up her thigh as he knelt, worshiping her body—when all of a sudden, a knock sounded at the door.
“Jack! Jack! Are you in there?” It was Trahern’s voice. “I need to talk to you! Now!”
He hissed a hot curse against her skin, then lifted his head.
“What?” he yelled back none too gently.
“We’ve got a problem, Jack.”
Eden’s heart was pounding. “Oh, dear.” She laid her hands on his broad shoulders, pushing him back a small space. “You’d better go see what it is,” she panted.
“Give me a minute!” he called back, then looked at Eden in bitter disappointment. “One of these days—” He shook his head.
She chuckled and tousled his hair, giving him a smile full of smoldering affection.
“Hold that thought,” he whispered to her.
“No, husband. I’m going to bed.”
“But—”
“I need my beauty sleep,” she informed him. “Especially now that I’ve met my sisters-in-law. I don’t want to be the ugly one.”
“Never.”
“Besides, I don’t feel so good.” She’d had quite a bit of an unsteady stomach of late. Leave it to her to get seasick once they had come onto dry land.
“Are you all right?”
“Nerves, that’s all.”
“I could help you relax,” he whispered.