His Wicked Kiss (43 page)

They spent hours happily doing nothing at all but wandering the grounds hand in hand, stopping to pet the horses in the pastures. They strolled through the nearby village and
Eden
met the local folk, who showered them with humble wedding gifts.

On the third evening, after visiting the village shops before they closed for the day, they made love in the carriage on the way home, laughing and trying to be quiet so the driver wouldn’t hear. Old Peter was no fool, though; pretending a tactful ignorance, he cleared his throat loudly upon their arrival in the torch-lit courtyard. He gave them plenty of time to make themselves decent before opening the carriage door.

Jack got out first, a trifle flushed, his dark hair tousled.

“Good man,” he mumbled, tucking a fiver into the coachman’s breast pocket. Then he turned back for Eden, who melted out of the carriage into his arms, feeling boneless with the aftermath of pleasure.

Wicked amusement danced in Jack’s eyes as he gave her his arm, letting her lean on him. They ambled slowly back into the house. In their chamber,
Eden
took off her clothes and dropped into bed with the taste of his kiss still warm on her smiling lips; the moment her head hit the goose-down pillow, she sank into a deep and dreamless sleep.

The next morning, however, the dream broke off abruptly when she awoke. She opened her eyes and found Jack sitting in the armchair near the bed, watching her as he was wont to do.

With a drowsy smile, she stretched amid champagne-colored sheets. They smelled of sex, and so did she. “Good morning, husband.”

A wistful half smile curved his lips.

“You’re all dressed. So handsome.” She sighed, admiring his tweed coat, dark green vest, and brown twill breeches. He wore knee-boots and must have been ready to walk out the door, for he even had a riding crop in his hand. He toyed with it idly. “Going out for a morning gallop?”

He didn’t answer, lowering his gaze.

“Come back to bed.” She closed her eyes, rolling onto her stomach. “It’s too early.”

“
Eden
,” he said gently, “I have to go.”

“Is it time for your meeting?” she mumbled against the pillow.

“Yes.”

“Very well. When you come back, we can have a picnic in the old solarium—”

“Darling,” he cut her off.

“What, Jack?”

He was silent for a long moment. She lifted her head again and stared at him, then noticed the quiet resolve in his rugged face.

She sat up suddenly, clutching the satin sheet to her bosom. “What is it?”

“I told you, love. It’s time for me to go.”

“Go—?”

He leaned closer, setting the riding crop aside. “Be calm, now,” he soothed, holding her in a steady gaze. “Try to understand. I want you to stay here while I complete the mission.”

“Stay here? Jack, what are you talking about? We’re going next to
England
…” Her words trailed off as the blood drained from her face. “You’re going to
England
… without me?”

“
Eden
, my uncle told me of some bad developments in the war. I can’t stay in
England
long. I’ll only be there for a few short weeks to round up the men I need. I’ve got a stop at
Cornwall
, then at
London
, and then I’m sailing back straightaway to
Venezuela
.”

“Jack!” She stared at him, scarcely comprehending. How utterly diabolical of him to do this to her first thing in the morning before she could think clearly—oh, perhaps all of this was a bad dream. She rubbed her forehead, trying to wake up. But knowing Jack, he had chosen his timing on purpose.

“I’ll be back from
South America
in the autumn,” he said in a delicate tone. “You’ll be safest here until then.”

“The autumn?”
Eden
could barely absorb what she was hearing. “You’re going to leave me alone here for
six months
?”

“Darling, I can’t take you with me on a ship full of mercenaries, nor Phineas, for that matter. You and the boy will both stay here, where you’ll be safe.”

“Jack!”

“I’m sorry,
Eden
. Not all the men I’m bringing back to Bolivar are simple soldiers.”

“I don’t care what they are! I’m not staying here by myself! That’s exactly the reason why I left the jungle!” She jumped out of bed and strode toward her closet. “I need to be with you. You know I do. And you need me. Especially in
London
. If I’m not there to smooth things over, you’re going to make things worse between you and your family. You know you need me there.”

“
Eden
,” he whispered, faltering. He steeled himself visibly and stood. “I’ve got to go.”

“Well, you can just wait because I’m getting dressed and I’m coming with you. Don’t you dare walk out that door, Jack Knight.”

“You’re not coming with me.
Eden
, you’ve got to let me go.”

She had already slipped a chemise on over her head. “Yes, I am coming with you, and do you know why? Because you promised. You promised to take me to
England
—just like Papa!” She reached for a gown.

“No. I never promised that.” He shook his head staunchly, resting his hands on his waist.

“Well, it’s what you let me believe, and that’s the same thing, is it not? How long have you been planning this—all along, you blackguard? From the very start?” She was shaking and flabbergasted, scrambling to get ready to go with him. She was perfectly incensed. “I can’t believe you lied to me.”

“I never lied to you.”

“You deceived me, didn’t you? You tricked me! You had this whole plan up your sleeve from the start, admit it! Oh, all the things I let you do to me—and you were playing me false all the time! There is a snake in
Ireland
after all!”

“I thought you liked the things I do to you.”

“That’s not the point, and you know it. I trusted you!” Tears flooded her eyes. She could feel herself starting to panic, for he was implacable, and somehow she already knew the battle was lost. “How could you do this to me?” she nearly screamed at him.

“
Eden
, calm down—”

“No! You can’t do this to me, Jack! I can’t be alone here for months and months on end all by myself. Look at all I went through to go back into the world again. If you lock me up here, I might as well have stayed in the jungle with Connor!”

He bristled. “Don’t compare me to him.”

“I won’t stay here. You can’t make me.”

“Actually, I can. The footmen have their orders.”

“Oh? I’ll drug them all with caapi leaf and make them fall asleep—I’ll run away.”

“You will do nothing of the kind!” he bellowed, looming over her with a glower. “So help me, if you pull a stunt like that, you will know my wrath.” He tore the gown out of her hands and threw it on the ground. “Stop this now! You’re not coming with me. I’m leaving you here for your own safety. I will take you to
England
as soon as I get back. Though by that time, you may be too big with my child in your belly to travel.”

“I am not pregnant,” she informed him, struggling to bring her raw emotions back under control.

“No?” He eyed her skeptically. “It would explain this hysterical reaction.”

She narrowed her eyes in warning. “You have not seen me hysterical yet, my lord.”

“It gets better?” he mumbled under his breath.

“You add insult to injury?” she exclaimed, shocked from panic back into fury, which was no doubt his intention.

“I have to go.” As he turned and walked away from her with measured paces,
Eden
followed, her heart pounding, knots in her stomach.

“Come back here! We need to talk about this.”

He ignored her.

“This is outrageous! You can’t keep me here against my will!”

He picked up his greatcoat, draped over the chair. “Good-bye,
Eden
. I’ll be back as fast as I can. Whatever you need, simply let Mrs. Moynahan know—”

“I’ll bet I know the real reason you don’t want me with you!” she flung out, frantic enough to say anything to stop him now. “You just want to go and see your precious Maura in
London
without your wife around!”

“
Now
you’re hysterical.”

“Don’t tell me I’m hysterical!” She threw a shoe at him. He ducked in the nick of time and spun around with a look of rage.

“You were going to leave without even saying good-bye, weren’t you?” she accused him, her voice rising shrilly. “That’s why you’re all dressed! You nearly walked out and left me to wake up alone!”

“Right now, it rather seems a good idea.”

“Did you even write me a note?” She suddenly burst into tears.

Cursing under his breath, he strode back to her and grabbed her around her waist; clutching her to him, he kissed her with rough passion, tangling his fingers in her hair.

His abrupt motion took her off balance. She clung to his shoulders to keep from falling and returned his kiss with tears coursing down her cheeks. The desperate kiss she gave him begged him to stay, though she already sensed it was futile; the man was stone. She quivered with pain in his arms to think of all those months and months of loneliness, separation, locked up here alone.

Isolation.

“I’m not ready for this,” she whispered, capturing his hard face between her hands. “Please don’t do this to me, Jack. Don’t leave me here alone,” she breathed as she kissed him. “I’ll do whatever you say. Don’t leave me.”

“Do you think I want this?” he demanded in a harsh whisper, angrily tightening his hold around her waist.

She gazed at him in bewilderment, her eyes blurred with tears. “I don’t know. You must, because you’re Jack.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“It means when Jack Knight really wants something, he always finds a way. You could take me with you if you really wanted to. You just—don’t,” she said with a quiet sob.

He seemed exasperated. “You understand nothing.”

“What’s to understand?” She released him from her embrace and backed away, shaking her head. “You obviously don’t love me as much as I love you.”

She waited for him to say she was daft, but he stared into her eyes, emotion churning in his gaze; his face was etched with anger, indeed, with a hint of confusion. He just shook his head at her in silent, scathing reproach, then pivoted without warning, and marched away.

“Jack!”

He vanished through the doorway, the sound of his strides echoing behind him in the sharp rhythm of his boot-heels striking the flagstones.

“Jack!”

She rushed after him in her chemise and ran out to the top of the carved oak gallery.

He was below, already crossing the great hall. He didn’t look back in answer to her panicked cries.

Her mind reeling with sheer disbelief,
Eden
flew back into their chamber and looked out the window.

In the courtyard below, he had already mounted his horse.

He looked up.

As their gazes locked from across the distance, he stared hard at her, angry torment glinting in his turquoise eyes. She rested her fingertips on the window pane as though to touch him.

Jack.

“No,” she breathed, flattening her palm against the glass as he wheeled his horse around and went galloping off down the drive.

Without a backward glance.

A thousand curses poured through his mind as he raced Fleet Apollo down the muddy road, thundering on toward the bustling port town of
Cork
.

He refused to question his decision, locking
Eden
away in his castle. But he felt like utter hell.

He had been ready for her anger; he had even braced for tears. What he had not been at all prepared for was her pain.

I
hurt her
. His mind felt numb with the realization.
I
hurt my sweet girl
.

It was the most horrible feeling in the world, and he had no idea what to do. Here on the cusp of his mission, just when he most needed to have himself and everything else under perfect control, he was utterly routed, completely unsure. This was the right thing to do.

Wasn’t it?

Why did she always have to be so damned much trouble? No answers came by the time he reined in his splendid thoroughbred outside the Green Anchor Pub overlooking the harbor.

As he handed the stallion off to his head groom, who had followed on a hack horse, Jack paused to survey the bustling port. Fishing boats draped in netting dotted the harbor, bringing in their morning catch; a few small sailboats scuttled about, while the daily packet ship was taking on passengers. But farther back, where the water was deeper,
there
she waited, beyond the fray—a duchess among dairy maids:
The Winds of Fortune
, right on schedule.