Lords of the Isles

by Le Veque, Kathryn

  Jack stared silently at the duke and Regan held her breath. How would Jack respond to the man who had taken so much from him?

  Jack blinked and the cold smile vanished, replaced by grim anger. His eyes darkened and a shadow crossed over his face. “The streets of Paris?” Jack spat the words out like a curse. “To protect the precious monarchy, the fields and mountains ran red with blood. The rivers and valleys were filled with the bodies of soldiers. My only friend had his life ripped from him on the battlefield. What about him? What about the thousands of lives that died fighting for the monarchy?”

  “They were expendable. They died for a righteous cause!”

  Regan gasped. “You cry for the aristocrat, but don’t care about the soldier… or your son.”

  “I loved my son.”

  “God help those you hate,” Jack said evenly.

  The duke closed his eyes and his throat worked as he swallowed. “The upper classes must be preserved. The peasants cannot govern. We cannot allow them to have power.”

  “My father only wanted to better their lives.”

  Her grandfather’s eyes snapped open. “A pretty sop. In the end, my son wanted a Republic and his education of the poor was proof of that. He had to be stopped. He was a fool.” The duke looked away and, though tense, seemed to sag. “A beautiful fool. If he’d just done as I’d told…” The duke swallowed and shook his head.

  Regan’s stomach curdled and, for an instant, she was sure she was going to vomit. Instead, she stepped back. Her grandfather was sick. Truly sick because he still loved her father, but he’d killed him anyway. “It is you who has to be stopped.”

  “And how do you propose to do that?” The duke’s lips twisted in disgust. “Kill me?”

  Tears stung her eyes and she shook her head. “No, there are other ways of destroying a man.”

  “Indeed?” the duke mocked. “You know how powerful I am.”

  Regan glanced over her shoulder at the woman standing in the corner. The beautiful face was pale. Her hands hung limply at her sides. “You know what they say, grandfather, have an affair with a man’s wife, but never his mistress. It’s far too cruel… and utterly unforgivable.”

  “Regan—” The duke jerked forward, but Jack shoved him back against the wall.

  Regan kept her eyes trained on the woman who had gone rigid. “Wouldn’t you say so Lady Trahern? I’m sure the king would.”

  Jack’s head whipped towards Regan. “The king?”

  Lady Trahern licked her lips as if trying to clean a foul essence from her mouth. “My dear, under usual circumstances, I would beg your discretion…” her hazel eyes went to the duke and hardened. “But in this case, I will not say a word to defend myself. Nor can I believe that I dallied with such an inhuman man.”

  “Elizabeth,” the duke gasped.

  Lady Trahern ignored him. She picked up her cloak from the chair in the corner of the room. “Anything that you tell the king, I will confirm. And for your sake, I hope the king shows no mercy. At least, to him.”

  Gliding with the ease and grace of a woman born to be a princess, she left the room without looking back.

  Jack lowered his knife. “You’ve destroyed countless lives. You’ve used any means to attain your ends. And you’ve held nothing sacred, not even your own blood. I thought I had reason to hate you. After all, you stole my childhood.”

  Chiles narrowed his eyes. “Don’t be melodramatic. I met you as a man…” his voice trailed off as understanding registered in his eyes. “Yorkshire.”

  “A good memory, Your Grace. How many boys did you send to their deaths because they bore you no use?”

  The duke tugged his robe into place and he squared his shoulders. “Many.” He tilted his head up and arched his brow. “After all, it was all you were good for.”

  A growl ripped form Regan’s throat and she cracked her palm against her grandfather’s face. “Jack is the best of men.” She narrowed her eyes. “While you aren’t even human.”

  Jack held out his hand. “Let’s leave now.”

  Regan nodded and let her fingers be swallowed up by Jack’s big hand. They started for the door, leaving the man who had ruined both their lives behind.

  “You can’t just leave.”

  Regan stopped and glanced back over her shoulder.

  Her grandfather stood in the center of the room. His eyes frantic and his hands outstretched. “I’m the Duke of Chiles. Regan, I’m your grandfather.”

  Regan shook her head. “No. Now, you are no one.”

  Jack’s fingers tightened around hers and they left together, silently, as if they both knew that together they were entering a new life. One without the shadows of the past and nothing but a future together.

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  The world was achingly quiet. Or at least that’s how it seemed to Regan. There wasn’t any mention of her grandfather yet in the papers. But there were whispers through the gossip chains. The good duke had been brought before his majesty and it had not been an attractive sight. Word had it, that he’d been privately stripped of his title.

  It was just a matter of time before it was public. Regan tightened her grip on her quill and forced herself to stare down at the columns on the parchment.

  But even though she stared, she wasn’t really reading.

  She was thinking. Jack had stood by her, offering his support, his strength and his love when she’d confronted her grandfather. But he hated the man as much as she. Every part of her wanted to believe that he hadn’t been driven by just his own revenge. Had he helped her for her sake? Or just his own. Regan closed her eyes against the painful thought.

  Now that her grandfather was on the verge of ruination, would Jack ever be able to let go of the past? She opened her eyes and blinked.

  If it wasn’t for the fact that her father would have condemned any sort of revenge, she might have asked herself the same question. But her grandfather had ruined too many lives for her to let him ruin her own. Whatever had happened to her father, James Chance was at peace now. And in time, she would find peace, too. But could Jack?

  Regan winced and threw down her quill. She rubbed her temples with the tips of her fingers. It didn’t help. She sighed and stared out the window. The faint hint of green dusted the oak trees. Spring was almost here. She wanted to feel the warmth it would give and see the light. After the last year, she wanted to leave the dark of winter behind and just step out into the sun. But she didn’t wish to do it alone. Not now.

  “Lost in thought?” Jack’s voice rolled through the room, warming her.

  Regan smiled despite her unpleasant thoughts. She turned to face him. “Yes. But not too lost.”

  He stood just in the doorway, a large roll of parchment in his hand. His shirt was open at the neck and his black hair had fallen to brush his temples. For the first time she’d known him, Jack looked hesitant. Yet at the same time, a hint of mischief sparked in his eyes.

  “What have you been doing?” Regan asked, her voice edged with suspicion.

  “Procuring you a present.”

  Regan blinked and pushed her chair back. She hadn’t received many presents since her father died. “Truly?”

  He looked down to the parchment in his hand.

  Regan frowned. “A roll of paper?”

  Jack nodded seriously, but he couldn’t hide the smile twisting his lips. “Well, perhaps it’s what’s on the paper.”

  Jack strode into the room and took her hand gently in his. His strong fingers enveloped hers and he gently caressed her knuckles with his thumb. He pulled her to her feet and her breasts brushed his chest.

  “Open it,” he said softly.

  Regan looked up questioningly, but he just smiled, the uncertainty still in his eyes. She took the parchment from him and unrolled it until her arms were stretched wide to keep it open. Her eyes darted over the black lines striking back and forth and up and down. Words were scattered all over it, in between the lines and on the very s
ides. As her eyes adjusted to the riot of ink, her breath caught in her throat.

  “Jack?”

  “Your new hospital.”

  Regan swallowed as she stared at the perfect plans. It took her only moments to realize that this plan was even better than the last. It was modern and functional, but also designed for comfort. On one floor she noticed a room entitled “children’s play area”.

  Tears stung Regan’s eyes and her chest burned.

  “Don’t forget to breath, sweetheart,” he said against her ear.

  The gentle blow of his breath teased her skin and she laughed. As she did, she drew in a breath and her chest eased. “Jack, it’s beautiful. So beautiful.” She shook her head in wonder.

  He took the design and placed it on her desk, weighting the corners down with books.

  “It’s right then?” he asked carefully. “We can change anything you don’t like. The architect is on call.”

  So, this was why he was uncertain. He thought she mightn’t like it. “Jack, you did this for me?”

  “You’ve taught me so much. You’ve taught me that hate can never replace love, that one must always weigh the cost of their actions, and that life is empty without someone to share it with.” He gestured down to the parchment. “I want to share this with you, if you’ll let me.”

  Regan’s heart slammed in her chest. If she’d been afraid that he might not be able to let the past go, that fear was over. “Yes. Yes. And Yes.”

  “Share your life with me as I will mine with you?”

  Regan couldn’t stop the tear that slipped down her cheek. “Yes.”

  Gently, Jack wiped it away then pressed his lips to hers. “I love you,” he murmured against her mouth.

  Regan wrapped her arms around his muscled waist and pulled herself against his welcoming heat. “And I you.”

  Jack slid his fingers into the curls of her hair and tilted her head back. Regan opened for him, gently sucking his tongue into her mouth. They kissed each other slowly. The hunger burned between them and Regan could barely think as his mouth stole across hers.

  He leaned back and stared down into her eyes. “Oh, one more thing.”

  Regan looked up at him, her head resting gently on his hands. “What else could there possibly be?”

  “I’m running for office.”

  “I always thought you should.” Regan thought of Jack taking on the stuffy politicians in the House of Commons and she laughed, delight running through her veins. “God help London.”

  “No. We will.”

  Tugging his mouth back down to hers, Regan whispered. “But not alone.”

  “No.” Jack lowered his lips to hers. Regan gasped against him as he suddenly yanked her up and wrapped her legs around his waist. “You and I are going to be a force to be reckoned with for a very, very, very, long time.”

  Regan smiled against his mouth, because she knew it was absolutely true.

  Epilogue

  Jack couldn’t stop smiling as he snuck into the dark, empty kitchen. He was in his own home for Christ’s sake and he shouldn’t have to creep, but at this hour he didn’t wish to wake the servants.

  Light from his candle flickered over the brick oven and tile floors as he headed towards the larder. He felt like a bloody idiot. But he didn’t care. Finally, he was happy. The kind of happy that would last.

  He stepped into the cool larder area and spotted the large porcelain milk jug. In her sixth month of pregnancy, Regan was addicted to cocoa. Even in the middle of the night. But especially after they’d made love.

  Striding over to the stove, he reached for a copper pot and set his candle on the heavy wood carving table. He poured the milk into the pan and set it on the stove. As he reached down to check the coal fire beneath the burners, a draft tingled against his skin.

  Jack stilled, his muscles tensing as he listened. He whipped around, his hand reaching for one of the knives on the kitchen table.

  Adam stood in the corner of the kitchen, his body bathed in shadows. Jack blinked, disbelieving his own eyes. “The front door too conventional?”

  Adam stepped out of the shadows. He smiled. “I thought I’d let the butler sleep. And this is news for your and Regan’s ears.”

  Jack let his hand trail away from the knife and nodded. “Should I get her?”

  “Let the poor girl rest.” Adam’s lips twitched. “I’m surprised she gets to sleep at all married to you.”

  “Did you find any trouble with the Prime Minister and His Majesty?”

  Adam laughed, a soft rumbling sound.

  “No,” he whispered, his voice breezing through the room. “Not as much trouble as you’ll be in if you don’t get upstairs to that wife of yours quickly. So let’s speak with haste.”

  Glancing over his shoulder at the waiting pan of cool milk, Jack smiled. He looked back to his friend. He’d never had any family and Dev had died. But now, at this moment, the people he cared about most were in this house. Regan, their unborn child, and Adam, who had risked his political place at Horse Guards to help him. Now, what he wanted more than anything was for Adam to find what he had found. Love. And a life with family. But that wasn’t likely. Not with the secrets that haunted his eyes.

  “Out with it, then,” Jack prompted.

  “You’ll be pleased to hear the former duke is probably halfway to Africa by now.” Adam smoothed his cravat casually, his eyes hard with cold amusement. “You see, he’s been made the Secretary of Arterial Affairs in the tropical isles off of Mandalay.”

  Jack stared for a moment then a laugh broke from his lips. “Arterial affairs?”

  “Mmm.” Adam folded his arms over his chest. “After all, the roads keep getting washed away by the torrential rains. The old bastard will ensure that they are rebuilt.” Adam paused, a self-satisfied grin curling his lips. “Over and over again.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Thank your wife. She’s the one who’s given you what you need.”

  Jack nodded. “She’s made me want to truly live again.” Rubbing a hand over his face, Jack tried to find the words. “I think I was just barely existing before I met her.”

  The smile dimmed from Adam’s face.

  “Maybe you should look for a bit of peace yourself.”

  “Me?” Adam laughed dryly. “God save the poor girl who gets herself shackled to me.”

  “She’d have to have the patience of a saint…”

  “There are things I must do and I have to do them alone.”

  “That’s what I said once.”

  Adam stared silently for a moment, his gaze unreadable and then he laughed softly. “You’ve kept Mrs. Hazard waiting too long. Go upstairs and love your wife.”

  Adam turned and headed back into the shadows that led down to the servant’s entrance.

  Jack stared at the empty spot where his friend had been. A slow smile tugged his lips because he could think of nothing better than doing exactly what Adam had said.

  *

  Regan ran her fingers over the bolt of raspberry brocade. Then she picked up the smooth green silk. Which one would be best for a new and significantly larger robe? She glanced down at her growing belly stretching at her thin white chemise. Her lips parted in a smile.

  In just a few months, she would be a mother. And she had no doubt that Jack would be the best of all fathers.

  The door creaked open and she turned towards it, holding the green silk between her hands.

  “What do you think…” the words died on her lips.

  Jack’s black hair fell over his forehead boyishly as he clutched a steaming porcelain cup in each hand. He kicked the door closed behind him with his booted heel. Striding forward, he crossed to her side and placed the cups down on the mahogany table covered in bolts of fabric. His dark eyes were warm with such happiness it swelled her heart. And the faint shadow that had tinged those eyes had vanished.

  Carefully, he took her in his arms.

  “Your grandfather is just
about halfway round the world and I hope he gets very, very seasick,” he whispered. “He’ll spend the rest of his life knee deep in mud in the tropical wilds.”

  Regan widened her eyes. “You saw Lord Ashecroft?”

  He nodded.

  “And they really banished him?”

  Jack nodded again. “He can’t hurt anyone anymore.”

  Relief washed over her and she relaxed against Jack. Her grandfather had used his power for such cruel ends that she’d been afraid he’d be able to find a way out. “Thank goodness.”

  He leaned down and nuzzled her neck, his warm breath brushing her skin. She could feel the peace flowing from him.

  His hands roved over her back. “You wanted to say something earlier?”

  Regan laughed. “Nothing terribly important. I merely wished to ask if you’d like the green silk for my robe.”

  Jack tilted his head back and he looked at her. A wicked gleam shone in his eyes. “I’m certain any silk will do. But-” He gently swept her up into his arms, cradling her against his hard chest.

  As he strode to the bed, he murmured, “I will always prefer you out of it.”

  THE END

  About the Author

  You can follow Eva on Twitter and Facebook. She loves to hear from her readers at evedevonauthor@gmail.com.

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