Free Redeeming Jack by Kate Pearce

linger by your bedside like a desperate man hoping for a last-minute legacy.”
    After smacking his lips together and staring fixedly at Jack as if they’d never met, Gareth finally dragged himself up on one elbow, his nightcap askew on his red hair. “Deuce take it,” he complained, “it’s still dark.”
    “It’s winter. It’s always dark. Now get up. I’ll return at noon.”
    He let himself out of the quiet house and started the long trek back toward his lodgings. On impulse, he hailed a passing hackney, enjoying the freedom the duke’s money gave him. After packing his meager clothes and possessions, he wrote a note for Carys. On his way to the duke’s, he handed it to one of the boys loitering around Covent Garden and gave instructions as to its delivery.
    * * *
     
    When Carys arrived at Gareth’s lodgings, she found her brother in a state of panic. After a few scathing sisterly admonitions as to the general incompetence of men, she packed Gareth’s bag, retied his cravat and helped him into his greatcoat. A further delay was avoided when Carys located Gareth’s favorite hat with one of the house cats curled up inside it.
    Carys was looking forward to going home. She’d kept her promise and appeared in public with Oliver and his reluctant mother. Oliver had also agreed with her plans to deal with Jack. After visiting the Llewelyns’ solicitor, she had nothing to keep her in the city. She opened the gold locket she wore around her neck and gazed at the portrait of Owen and the lock of his blond hair. It would be wonderful to see him again. She hated being away from him for more than a few days.
    She was removing white cat hair from Gareth’s hat when Jack strolled in. His shabby greatcoat hung over one shoulder and his blond hair glinted sparks in the sunlight. He nodded at her as he hoisted her trunk onto his shoulder with accustomed ease. Leaving Gareth to bring his own bags, Jack descended the steep front steps of the mews house.
    A closed carriage bearing the Duke of Diable Delamere’s family crest on the paneled door awaited them. Carys replaced her bonnet, buttoned her chestnut brown pelisse and followed Gareth outside. Jack stayed to hand her in as Gareth brushed past her with a mumbled excuse.
    Carys hesitated, her hand still in Jack’s. Should she sit by her brother and trade glances with Jack for hour upon tedious hour? Perhaps if she sat beside him she might avoid the subtle temptation of his eyes.
    Gareth blew his nose, slumped into the corner seat with a theatrical groan and went back to sleep. With an air of decision, Carys took the seat opposite him and settled her skirts around her ankles. The carriage was decked out in luxurious gray leather and satin. Fanciful embroidered mermaids and devil fish adorned the cushions and window curtains.
    Jack squeezed in beside her, making the carriage rock. His large frame trapped her against the side of the carriage. She tried to move away but somehow he oozed into every available inch of space like soft, melting toffee.
    The carriage started with a lurch and threw Carys forward. Jack shot out an arm, caught her elbow and gently pressed her back into the seat. The hard strength of his fingers permeated even the thickness of her sleeve. To her chagrin, she wasn’t sure if she wanted him to remove his hand or keep it there. He rubbed a small circle with his thumb, soothing her as he’d done when she had run to him for consolation.
    He leaned toward her. “All better now,
cariad
?”
    She shrugged off his hand. “Yes, thank you. There’s no need to mollycoddle me. I’m no longer a child.”
    He sat back, his smile fading. “You think I don’t know that? You stopped wanting my comfort years ago.”
    Pain stung at her like a sharp slap. But before she could retaliate, he held up his hand.
    “Forgive me, that wasn’t fair. I know you have truly suffered.” His smile was wry. “I was always an inadequate source of comfort for you, wasn’t I? I