Jackal (Regency Refuge Book 2)

by Heather Gray

  ****

  They'd left him in the snow. He was too cold. Shivers quaked through his body and wouldn't stop. He hurt enough already, but each chilled shudder caused new points of fire to shoot up and down his leg. His arm was a dull throb by comparison.

  Shivering is good. It means your body hasn't given up on you yet. When you stop shivering – then you need to worry.

  Had he dreamed it? Was The Hunter dead? Was Juliana safe?

  "Jewel…"

  ****

  Voices again, but not the detestable mocking of The Hunter. These were mere wisps of sound.

  "Dead."

  "Minister."

  "Scandal."

  "Safety."

  "Kill him."

  "Chakal."

  He tried to reach out toward the voices. He wanted to see Chakal Manor again. It had always been a refuge for him, and now it would be his home. He'd never even told Juliana the whole story of how he'd come into the line of work that was taking his life.

  ****

  "I've had enough of this!"

  Movement surrounded him with the swishing swirl of skirts.

  "Rupert Birmingham, you've pushed me too far this time!"

  Ktink, ktink, ktink.

  "By all that's holy, fight!"

  More sounds of moving fabric and of his… cane? Someone was using his cane, but it wasn't making the same kthunk it normally made in his hand.

  He tried to speak. Give me back my cane!

  But no sound came.

  ****

  "Now listen here, young man."

  Was the mummy speaking to him?

  "I know more about your family than you realize."

  Mrs. Burnham! Of course that was her name, and she wasn't a mummy. At least, he didn't think so.

  "Juliana and those girls need you."

  What does she mean, she knows more?

  Sleep again pulled him under, and the rest of her words were lost to him.

  ****

  Air moved against his skin. Was he outside? That couldn't be, could it?

  "Mmm." The ability to form words escaped him. Had he even made the noise, or had it too been in his imagination?

  A sudden clamor told him it must have been real. He'd finally managed to force a sound.

  Cold hands fluttered across his face with feather-light touches, then down lower onto his chest.

  "Please, please say something."

  Juliana. He would try, for her.

  "Zoo…el"

  ****

  "He's coming around. I know he is."

  "Miss Clairmont, as I've told you before, with the amount of blood he lost, he may never regain consciousness, and even if he does, he likely won't have all his faculties. He'll need to be institutionalized the rest of his life to keep him and the people around him safe."

  "Barrows! Get this man out of here!"

  "He'll pull through, Miss Clairmont. He's strong."

  Owen's voice. Familiar. But they'd been here before, hadn't they?

  "Miss Clairmont, if there's anything I can do…"

  An impatient sound from his jewel. She didn't seem overly fond of that person. Who was it? Ah, yes. Lucien's voice.

  "Your kind of help is not needed here."

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  April 27, 1817

  Darkness everywhere. Rupert fought to open his eyes. If he could just get them open, the rest would come. He'd been down this path before. It was long, hard, and miserable, but it was survivable.

  His lids lifted by increments. He had to fight for it, teeth gritted, but eventually his eyes were open enough that he could see. It must be night. The quiet of the townhome surrounded him. His room smelled different, medicinal, but it felt the same. The mattress was familiar. Angling his head the smallest bit, he looked toward the fireplace. The sight of glowing embers was blocked by a shadowy form in a chair.

  "Jewel."

  No response. She was asleep. She would be sore come morning.

  Rupert drifted back into darkness but woke again as the room started to lighten with the first predawn rays of the sun. She was breathtaking when she slept.

  It's indecent to notice without the benefit of marriage.

  He stared at Juliana's lovely face softened in sleep.

  Decorum be hanged. I'll stare all I want.

  Movement from the opposite side of the bed drew his eyes. Barrows stood there. His right arm was bandaged and held close to his body with a wrap, but other than that, he looked unharmed. Surprise at seeing Rupert awake showed on his face, clear evidence Barrows wasn't cut out to be a butler. He was a soldier at heart. Soldiers need only hide their emotions when it was strategic, far easier than being a butler.

  Rupert gave the man a slight nod. Barrows bowed his acknowledgement and backed out of the room quietly.

  Some minutes later – Rupert had no idea how many – Juliana stirred. She stretched, eyes closed. Even cramped by the chair, it was a glorious stretch, a declaration that life would go on. Her eyes fluttered open, still clouded by sleep. Rupert witnessed the exact moment she realized he was awake. She jumped from her chair and rushed to the bedside, joy lighting her from within until she glowed. Her fingers danced across his face, and he reveled in the sensation.

  Longing filled his heart. Could he do it? Could he ask her to marry him? What if he never walked again? She would be trapped. If he truly loved her, he should let her go so she could have a full life. Trapping her into marriage with an invalid dishonored her in the worst way.

  "Don't say it."

  His eyes popped open, and he couldn't deny what was written on her face. She knew he'd been thinking it.

  "Shh. It'll work out, and you're going to be fine."

  "Institution." His throat was dry, and it hurt to speak.

  Juliana quickly reached for the pitcher and poured him a cup of water. She supported his head with an arm behind his neck as she helped him to drink. "You were supposed to hear the good things, not the bad. That doctor was an imbecile, a shame to his entire profession. I didn't like him from day one, but after he had the gall to say that, I banned him from the house. You're going to make a full recovery."

  "How long?"

  She helped settle him back onto his pillow. Eudora and Eleanor, no doubt drawn by the sound of their sister's voice, wandered into the room. They couldn't get near him because of Juliana's hovering, but they each gave his hand a squeeze before settling on the window seat.

  He asked again, "How long has it been?"

  Avoiding his eyes, Juliana straightened his bedcoverings and fussed with something on his bedside table.

  "How long?"

  Irritation permeated the air as she sighed. "Fine. The shooting was seven weeks ago."

  Seven weeks. He'd been lying unconscious for seven weeks. So much time.

  Sleep pulled at him, and he could fight it no longer. The darkness closed in as he listened to the hum of the girls reading from the society column of the newspaper.

  ****

  "Yes, well, I understand your concern, but I think this is for the best." A man's voice… but whose? Rupert concentrated.

  It hit him in a moment of clarity. Lucien. A strangled groan escaped his lips as he fought his way to wakefulness. Why was he panicked? Why was it bad that Lucien was here?

  A firm hand on his shoulder pinned him to the bed.

  "Everyone is well, Rupert. Calm down. You're safe, and so are the people you care about."

  Thomas. Thomas was in the room with Lucien.

  Why is Lucien to be feared? Wait… should he be feared?

  At long last he got his eyes open and gazed around, taking in as much as he could. Where was Juliana?

  "Sit." The commanding voice was Thomas'. Rupert watched as Lucien backed away from the bed and took a seat in a feminine chair with spindly legs and floral brocade.

  Rupert couldn't tear his eyes from Lucien. The man was evil, but why…?

  Thomas, his hand still on Rupert's shoulder, asked, "
You know The Hunter is dead, right?"

  Rupert blinked, trying to gather together the stray threads of his memory. "Shot." The Hunter… Lucien… No, Lucien wasn't The Hunter. Had he worked with The Hunter? Rupert's scattered thoughts pulled together and began to take shape. Who had The Hunter's allies been? Could Lucien be trusted?

  "Yes. Juliana shot him. She saved us both. She snuck up behind him while he was distracted with us. It would have been a heart shot if his ribs hadn't gotten in the way. When he didn't go down right away and raised his rifle instead, she shot him a second time, and he expired. The funeral was a quiet affair attended by almost no one."

  "You saw the body?"

  Thomas released Rupert's shoulder and moved around the bed until he was in the patient's line of sight. "Aye. He's dead. There's no mistaking it."

  "The minister?"

  Thomas' frown was solemn. "Dead also."

  "How?"

  "I'll let Lucien explain."

  Thomas stayed by Rupert's side but nodded to Lucien, who remained seated far from Rupert's bed.

  The young man took a deep breath and began. "Tobias suspected The Hunter was tied to the minister. He sent me to infiltrate. I was in the minister's employ for almost four years. While I kept finding information to support Tobias' suspicion, I couldn't gather enough evidence to prove it. The minister was definitely on English soil when you and The Hunter were in Austria. His son, however…"

  Lucien carried the weight of defeat and disappointment on his shoulders. "I should have seen it, but Lysander didn't live at home. He and the minister weren't on good terms. They rarely spoke. He would come by on the rare occasion, but it always seemed he was there to taunt his father more than anything else."

  The story was taking too long, and Rupert was tiring. "The minister." He put as much force into his words as he could.

  "I heard a gunshot. I got to the study, and… The minister took his own life. An envelope with my name on it provided the evidence that Lysander was The Hunter. I don't have any idea how long the minister had been investigating his son, or what even made him suspicious to begin with, but it was all there. As soon as I saw it, I set out for your house, but you were already gone. Owen sent me to Hyde Park to tell you, and he took Eudora and Eleanor in a hackney with him to go find Tobias and deliver the proof."

  "He what?" The force of his roar shocked even Rupert. It felt good to yell. Maybe he'd pull through this after all.

  Of course, his volume had a side effect. Juliana and the girls came running. They rushed into the room until Juliana stopped in her tracks. Each of the girls bumped into her back, nearly toppling her over. She sent a fearsome glare in Thomas' direction and then scowled at Lucien. Behind her, Eudora waved to Lucien, then blushed and adjusted her spectacles.

  From out in the hallway, Rupert heard yelling. "Will you keep it down in there? You're going to send me into an apoplectic fit if you continue with all that yapping!" Ah, Mrs. Burnham.

  Lucien blanched, and Rupert was fairly certain it had more to do with the Clairmont sisters' aged chaperone than with him.

  "Never you mind, Rupert." Juliana, in the most ladylike manner possible, pushed Thomas aside as she approached the bed. She poured him some water and promptly put the cup down without giving it to him. She glared first at Thomas and then Lucien, her hands on her hips.

  "What are you doing in here, and why are you upsetting the patient?"

  "The patient has a name, you know." He wanted to hear his name on her lips again.

  "Hush, Rupert. This doesn't concern you."

  Not quite what I had in mind.

  He ignored Juliana's orders. "Owen did what?"

  Thomas tried to hide his smile, but Rupert wasn't fooled, and he was pretty sure nobody else in the room was either. "Figuring it would be the safest place for them, he took Eleanor and Eudora with him to the War Department. As he passed Hyde Park, he saw that Barrows and his team had wandered into a trap, but he followed orders and got the girls to safety before sending reinforcements."

  Rupert temples throbbed in time with his heart. "And where was Lucien during this?"

  "He, uh…" Thomas cleared his throat. "He stole a curricle and breeched the line around the park. If it weren't for him, we'd have lost you. He was the one who got you out and into the care of a surgeon before it was too late."

  "Surgeon." He wanted to ask about the extent of his injuries but wasn't sure he had the energy to deal with the news at the moment.

  "You were blessed with an excellent physician." This time it was Juliana. She kept touching him and didn't seem to realize she was doing it. "You were shot in your left arm and leg," she declared. "The arm healed nicely. The leg got infected. You had a fever, but you're all better now."

  He hated what he was about to do, but he turned to Juliana anyway. "Please leave us. Take Lucien with you. I wish to speak to the duke alone."

  Hurt flared in her eyes, and she glanced uncertainly from him to Thomas. With a saddened droop to her lips, she shooed the girls out of the room. Lucien followed, and Eudora giggled. Eudora. She was not the giggler of the two younger sisters. It was as if the world had gone topsy-turvy since that day in the park.

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  As soon as the door closed behind the others, Rupert asked, "Can Lucien be trusted?"

  Thomas nodded. "I had a long talk with Tobias. Lucien was his plant the whole time he worked for the minister. Every suspicion he had, every order the minister ever gave him – it's all on file."

  Rupert stared for a minute. He dreaded bringing it up but knew he had to. "I'm sorry about your father."

  A sad smile shaped Thomas' mouth. "It wasn't until after he died that I learned of his involvement with the War Department. I asked numerous questions, but I only ever gathered enough information to be certain there was a lot I hadn't been told."

  "How did you know I wasn't a hapless soldier?"

  "I didn't, not really. I wondered a couple of times, but I dismissed it as an overactive imagination on my part. It wasn't until we were in Hyde Park that day, with you bleeding to death and telling me to hide behind you, that I unraveled the mystery of my former valet. Tobias has since told me more about my father's work. I always knew he was a good man, but now I can say he was a hero, too."

  "The duke was honorable. You're a lot like him." When the duke said nothing further, Rupert continued. "I'm sorry about Devin, too. I suspected something was amiss with your houseguest, and I had different people look into it. All I could come up with was a sketch based on descriptions given by some of your employees. I wanted to keep you out of it, but I shouldn't have. Had I bothered to ask you the man's last name, a lot of this could have been avoided."

  Thomas nodded. "Your man Owen explained." The duke glanced out the window before looking back at his former valet. "What's done is done, but next time have a little more faith in me. I'm not as inept as you'd imagine." Rupert accepted the gift for what it was. You're forgiven, but don't make the same mistake again. "Now tell me what else is on your mind that you needed privacy."

  Rupert shifted his gaze and stared into the fire for a moment. The question needed to be asked, but he wasn't sure he wanted to voice it. Admit it. You'd rather ask anything else. He looked back at Thomas with dread. "I want the truth. How bad is it?"

  Thomas didn't flinch. Nor did he shy from the subject. "You've been abed so long, you're likely weak as a newborn kitten. It'll take time to rebuild your strength, but your arm should be fine."

  "And my leg?"

  "The infection was bad, but the fever was worse. You had nightmares, and you were in a lot of pain. The surgeon who'd first treated you was called away, and a different doctor was brought in. He wanted to treat you with laudanum. It seems he believed you would die anyway. The cur thought he was being humane by drugging you out of your mind."

  Thomas bristled with indignation. "You weren't getting better, and Juliana had the good sense to stop the laudanum. The pain had to be awful. You screa
med all hours of the day and night for days on end. But you got through it, and the fever broke."

  He remembered soul-searing agony that made him wish he were dead.

  "Will I ever be able to walk again?"

  "There was no noticeable damage to the bone. It was all muscle. The infection did more harm than anything else. There's no reason you shouldn't be able to walk except that you'll be too weak to stand on your own. If your pride stops you from accepting help, you'll never rebuild the muscles necessary for you to support your own weight."

  Rupert nodded, but Thomas wasn't done. "It's going to be up to you, but you need to understand what's at stake. You've got four ladies in this house who never left you alone for a moment. They all took turns sitting by your bed and sleeping in the chair over there." He indicated the one with a jerk of his head. "The Clairmont sisters and Mrs. Burnham need you to recover. I wouldn't have thought a family could be made in such a short time, but they are your family, and they're not going to let you give up, so you might as well decide to put all you have into your rehabilitation and the effort it'll require."

  Four? That means…

  A thump sounded behind Thomas. Rupert glanced over to see Mrs. Burnham standing inside the doorway.

  How'd she get in so silently?

  "Juliana's name is all over the scandal sheets linked with yours. You've got no choice but to marry her to save her reputation. If you don't, the younger two won't have a chance come next season." Mrs. Burnham jabbed her cane at his bed. "You're going to get up out of that bed even if it hurts so bad you think it's killing you. Because she deserves to stand beside the man she loves at her wedding."

  Rupert tried to protest. "I won't force…"

  "Balderdash! It's as plain as day how she feels about you. If you're so addlebrained you think to rescue her from marriage to a cripple, then think again. She'll shrivel up and die if you do that to her. Don't make me hunt you down and deliver on my promise." Another jab from the cane. "I'm old and irritable, and if I have to miss a nap to force you to do the proper thing, then so help me, you'll be in the choir's soprano section for the rest of your natural-born life."