“Marcus?”
Amelia curled against his side, one thigh riding over his and her palm flat against his chest.
“Yes, love?”
“I’m hungry now.”
He chuckled. His wife was a remarkable mixture of the prosaic and the passionate.
“What?” She came up on one elbow and looked down at him, her auburn hair disheveled and her skin rosy from the rasp of his unshaven chin.
“You are the most practical woman I have ever met.”
She stroked his chest, making his body come back to life. “I am not. I went to bed with you before I even considered eating.”
“Because I am irresistible.” He nodded. “I quite understand.”
She kissed his nose. “You are many things, my lord and I appreciate them all.”
“Then come back to bed.” He curved a hand around her bottom and pressed her against the renewed hardness of his shaft.
Her stomach growled, and he buried his face in her shoulder and shook with laughter. Who had ever thought he would laugh again? “Perhaps not.” He gently lifted her away from him and sat up. “Give me a moment, and I’ll order up dinner and a bath if you wish it.” He rose from the bed and washed, using the jug of cold water and bowl on the table by the window.
“Marcus.”
He turned to see her biting her lip. “Yes, love?”
“I don’t need a bath. I’m quite capable of washing in cold water.”
“But you don’t have to anymore.”
“I know.” She hesitated. “Do you think we could take the letters home with us, so that I can read them later? I cannot face them quite yet.”
“I’ll write a note to Mr. Tatlock saying you wish to keep them and have it sent around to his office tomorrow morning. We won’t need to see him before we leave.” Marcus pulled his shirt over his head and put on his breeches and waistcoat.
“Stay there, and I’ll go and organize our dinner.”
“Thank God,” Marcus muttered as Amelia came toward him, her hand outstretched. “I thought you were never going to emerge from that retiring room.”
They’d been invited to another of the Duchess of Delamere’s events, and Marcus had felt obliged to attend in case the duke had anything to share with him about the likely arrival of the elusive Jack. He hadn’t, but Amelia appeared to have enjoyed herself, which was enough for Marcus.
Amelia clasped his fingers, her eyes warm with amusement. “I met someone from my first Season. She was remarkably amiable and invited me to visit her at home.”
His wife was looking very fashionable in her blue patterned muslin gown and matching pelisse. He especially liked the way her bonnet framed her face. There was still something in her eyes, a softness and vulnerability that made him want to hold her in his arms and protect her from everything. But he suspected only he could see it and that was how it should be. The fact that she needed him—poor damaged soul that he was—and that only he could comfort her was remarkable in itself.
“I’m glad to hear you are making friends.” Marcus tucked her hand into the crook of his arm and turned toward the door. A flash of light blinded him for a second, and he turned his head away as the sun glinted on a blond head. His blood froze as his memory supplied the screams of terrified horses, gunfire and…
“
Marcus
?
Duw!
Is that you?”
The figure at the door came closer. But Marcus had already recognized the melodious Welsh voice and was striding forward to meet his nemesis. He didn’t pause to think but drew back his fist and planted it squarely in Jack’s face. Somewhere a lady screamed as he followed the first blow with a series of others that brought Jack to the ground. Marcus was immediately on top of him with his hand closed around his throat.
There was a persistent and urgent tug on his arm. “
Marcus
. Please. He’s not fighting back. Don’t kill him,
please.
You promised me.”
He shook his head, his red vision clearing, and looked down into Jack’s bloodied face. With great reluctance, he released his punishing hold on his adversary’s throat and scrambled off him.
“Perhaps you might consider behaving like a
gentleman
, my lord, and going into the duke’s study rather than entertaining my guests with your brawling?”
He recognized that icy voice, too, and saw the duchess had joined the crowd around him.
“My apologies, Your Grace.” Marcus slowly rose from the floor. “I didn’t mean—”
Amelia took his hand and marched him through the group of gawkers into the duke’s peaceful, book-lined study. He was trembling like an untried colt and unable to do anything but pace back and forth until the duke and duchess came into the room with Jack between them. Jack was holding a handkerchief to the side of his face and looked furious.
“Marcus… that wasn’t quite the reception I expected.”
“Which part don’t you understand?” Marcus rounded on him. “My wanting to murder you—you cowardly, treasonous bastard?”
Shock flashed across Jack’s face. “Who told you that?”
“No one had to tell me anything, Jack. I was there, remember? When we were ambushed and David died and I was led away in chains?”
“I tried to stop them taking you. I was injured myself.”
Marcus took an unsteady step toward Jack. “Injured and far wealthier I should imagine. I heard my guards talking about the traitor in our midst. The man willing to betray his country and his best friends.”
“It wasn’t me, Marcus,” Jack said urgently. “It was David Rice. They killed him because he wanted more money and left me alive to take the blame.”
“How convenient for you that David is dead and cannot challenge your version of events.” Marcus sneered.
“Jack is correct, Havering,” the duke spoke for the first time. “I have been investigating this incident for the government. I can confirm that the only person who received unaccounted funds during that time period was David Rice.”
“But he was a mere
child
.”
“Old enough to betray his fellow officers, and clever enough to pin the blame on another. Or so we have been led to believe.” The duke paused. “How do you think you were discovered and freed?”
Marcus kept his gaze on Jack. “I don’t know. My memory is faulty. All I remember is being chained and beaten and used like an animal on a farm.”
Pity washed over Jack’s face. “I…didn’t know.”
“Don’t you dare feel sorry for me,” Marcus growled.
“I have every damned right to care about what happened to you.” For the first time, Jack’s famous temper showed its true colors. “I agreed to work for both Captain Fury and the government if they continued to search for you! I was willing to do damned near
anything
to see you safely returned home.”
The duke spoke again. “Perhaps we might leave Jack and Havering to discuss this matter in private? I am fairly confident there will be no further bloodshed.”
“Marcus?”
He looked around to see Amelia studying him and nodded brusquely. “I won’t kill him.”
“Thank you. I’ll wait with the duchess.”
Within seconds the duke, duchess and Amelia had left the study. Jack closed the door behind them with a definite bang.
“How do you think you finally got home, Marcus?” Jack asked the question again.
“Why does it matter to you?”
“Because I have damn well near sold myself to this bloody government—a government who were quite happy to see me shamed and shunned by all my peers—simply to ensure that you were still being searched for.” Jack scowled. “And I don’t take kindly to being branded a traitor by the very man I’ve been trying to help! What the
devil
is wrong with you, and who has been telling you such lies?”
“I don’t know. The first thing I remember is waking up at Dove Cottage on the English coast not even knowing my own name.” Marcus shoved a trembling hand through his hair and sank down onto the nearest seat. “The rest of it returns in fits and starts and in my nightmares, but there is no sequence to it. Just a series of images and feelings and…pain.”
“Then listen to me.” Jack crouched down in front of him, his gaze steady. “Captain Fury told me that if I completed this last mission, the one that took me into Wales, then he would ensure that you were released. I didn’t believe him. The man has lied to me many times. I was willing to take on the mission just in case there was the slightest chance it would help recover you.
“That’s all I’ve ever wanted.” Jack’s voice sounded hoarse. “To see you again, to apologize for not understanding what the hell was going on, and for being too late to save you. I’ve never given up hope that you were still alive.”
How strange that the man Marcus had designated the villain of the piece was the only one who had refused to believe he was dead and had given up almost everything to find him.
Marcus raised his head.
“I dreamed of a thousand ways of killing you. I imagined ignoring every plea, every last breath you took as I slowly stole your life and made you pay for my years of suffering.” He exhaled. “And now I find that my vengeance was but a hollow, worthless thing.”
Jack put his hand on Marcus’s knee. “We have both suffered. Do you think there is a way for us to become friends again? I would like that more than anything.”
For a fleeting moment, Marcus placed his hand over Jack’s and squeezed hard. “I would like to think that would be possible, because I believe we have a common enemy.”
“Captain Fury?”
“Yes. He threatened my family if I didn’t keep you alive.”
Jack slowly rose to his feet. “Then perhaps we should attempt to visit the good captain and show him that I am in very good health indeed.”
A council had been summoned to the duke’s study, which included not only their Graces, but Michael Waterstone, Jack’s wife Carys and Amelia. The duchess had insisted that they all had something to contribute to the discussion and the duke had not disagreed with her.
Marcus rubbed his temple and listened as Michael Waterstone explained about the treasonous activities of his and the duchess’s mother and what Jack had found out in Wales. It seemed clear that both Rice brothers had known about David’s treasonable behavior, but as they were both now dead, their evidence was gone.
“I still find it hard to believe that David Rice was behind anything.” Michael Waterstone shuffled his papers. “Being a younger son he might have been short of funds, but I doubt he came up with such a scheme all by himself.”
“Perhaps Lord Rice came up with the idea?” Jack suggested.
The duke shook his head. “He didn’t have the necessary connections. He might have known what David was doing and covered it up, but that’s the extent of his participation. This was a matter of international espionage on a grand scale, affecting the lives and futures of thousands of troops and the very future of our nation.”
“Don’t remind me,” Jack murmured. “I still have nightmares about the information I lost.”
Jack’s wife Carys patted his hand. “It wasn’t your fault, Jack. And soon everyone will know that and your name will be cleared.”
“I doubt it. I suspect all these matters will have to remain secret.” Jack kissed his wife’s hand. “And if I have you, and Owen’s good opinion, why should I care what the rest of the world thinks of me?”
Marcus shifted in his seat. “It has to have something to do with Captain Fury. He is the only one who knew I was being held captive and used that information to control Jack.”
“Which might suggest that he was the one who arranged for you to be taken prisoner in the first place—or who at least benefited from finding out where you were being held and using it against your best friend.” The duke sat back, his silver gaze assessing them all.
“I did wonder about that,” Amelia spoke up for the first time. “The very fact that Marcus was kept alive for years and then brought back to England and left in Highcliff village indicates a high level of complexity and planning.”
“And the ability to smuggle a man past the British naval fleet,” Jack added. “Not that there haven’t been thousands of soldiers pouring back into the countryside since the end of the war.”
“I should imagine that would’ve been the easy part. Keeping him alive and dumping him in a specific place must have been more difficult.” Amelia nodded. “Unless whoever was in charge of returning Marcus to Captain Fury simply abandoned his charge at the first opportunity.”
“That sounds horribly likely,” Marcus agreed. “If that is the case, then I am even more grateful that you found me, my lady.”
Amelia smiled at him. “It was my pleasure.” She paused. “There
was
a stranger in our village just after you appeared, Marcus. He came to our door and asked poor Dotty several impertinent questions.”
“I don’t remember that.”
“You were still bedridden and unconscious. I suspect he was the man who either abandoned you in the village or was late picking you up.”
“Be that as it may,” the duke continued. “Captain Fury wants to see you again, Jack.”
“I know. I promised to tell him what happened with the matter in Wales.” Jack sat forward. “I’ll wager before his plans went awry, he intended to hold onto you, Marcus, until he decided whether I’d completed my task to his satisfaction.”
Marcus nodded. “If you go and see Captain Fury, I want to come with you.”
Jack studied Marcus’s face. “Do you think that is wise?”
“I think I am coming with you regardless.” Marcus held Jack’s gaze. “I need answers, and I am increasingly convinced that only Captain Fury knows the whole truth.” He hesitated. “I have a sense that his treatment of me was…
personal
in some way, that he knew me before and wished me to understand that.” He shook his head. “I don’t suppose he expected me to come back with most of my memories gone. That must also have disrupted his plans.”
“Probably.” Jack held out his hand and Marcus shook it. “Then, by all means come. It will be just like old times.”
“Hardly that.”
“I will not let him hurt you, Marcus.”
“Worry about protecting yourself.” Marcus stood up. “I’m quite capable of killing.”
Jack held his gaze, all traces of amusement leeched from his face. “Don’t worry, my friend. If anyone is going to die I can assure you it won’t be you or me.”