by Laura Landon
“To destroy my father,” Jenna said, bringing his words to a halt.
Jenna locked her gaze with his and held her ground, forcing him to be the first to yield. She knew the instant he wavered and took advantage of his hesitancy.
“Get away from me.”
For a moment he didn’t move. Then, with a deep sigh of resignation that lifted his shoulders, he dropped his hands.
“You aren’t going to listen to me, are you?”
“Listen while you tell me more lies? No, Mr. Hawkins, I’m not.” Jenna shifted enough so the man standing before her knew she wanted to escape.
He didn’t move.
“Step away from me,” she ordered, letting the anger in her voice vibrate in vivid clarity, “or I’ll scream so loud it will bring the entire staff running to my aid.”
“Do you honestly think I’d give you the opportunity to scream?”
The man whose very nearness turned her knees weak and whose touch burned her flesh leaned forward. Jenna knew he intended to kiss her. A part of her ached to feel his mouth on hers again. A part of her yearned to have his arms around her again. And a part of her knew if she allowed him to kiss her she would be lost.
For her father’s sake, she couldn’t give him an advantage.
Jenna lifted her hands and placed her palms flat against the rippling muscles of his chest.
She knew her efforts were useless, knew she was powerless against his strength. But she couldn’t give up without at least making an effort to stop him.
“Don’t,” she said, pushing harder.
There was no expression on his face, no hint of emotion in his eyes. Jenna expected to see dominance, perhaps, or at least a show of authority. But there was nothing there except...
Jenna’s breath caught. For a fragment of one fleeting second she saw a brief flash of desire.
“No,” she said again, knowing she was losing the battle to stop him from kissing her. Knowing she’d hate herself if she did.
He leaned in closer, then stopped when Benton’s low, commanding voice echoed from the doorway.
“I believe the lady said no, Mr. Hawkins. Twice, in fact.”
The atmosphere in the room sparked with a tension so explosive Jenna feared the walls would erupt at any moment. Thankfully, Hawkins stiffened in compliance and stepped away from her.
“Now,” Benton said when Hawkins had separated himself enough from her so she could escape to the other side of the room. “I believe I heard Miss Kingston order you to remain in your room until her aunt’s carriage arrives the day after tomorrow.”
Hawkins slowly turned to face them and the expression on his face made a knot tighten in the pit of her stomach.
She turned her back to him and listened as Jack Hawkins’ soft footsteps padded across the floor. He seemed to hesitate a moment before exiting through the door. By the grace of God he hadn’t said anything more to her.
“Go to bed, Benton. We’ll sort this out in the morning.”
“Very well.”
There was a slight pause, then Jenna heard the door close softly. She was alone.
Her legs suddenly trembled beneath her and her knees seemed incapable of holding her upright.
Jenna reached out to steady herself against the nearest piece of furniture. Somehow, she managed to take a few steps to reach one of the large leather wing-back chairs that flanked the fireplace where Jack Hawkins had been searching.
Oh, how she wished she could share her suspicions and ask for his help. How she wished she could rely on him to assist her in finding out what scheme her stepmother was involved in. How she wished she could confide in him about her father and trust Hawkins to keep her father safe. But she couldn’t.
Her father wouldn’t be safe anywhere near Jack Hawkins.
And neither would she.
Jenna brought up her legs and wrapped her arms around her calves. With a shuddering sigh she lowered her cheek to her knees. She, especially, was in danger around Jack Hawkins. Her body turned to mush every time he came near her. Every inch of her burst into flames that heated her from the inside out each time he kissed her.
She wanted nothing more than to turn to him for help, but a part of her was certain that he posed a bigger threat to her father than her stepmother did.
Jenna swiped at one of the rare tears she allowed herself to shed. She was desperately tired of shouldering such a huge responsibility. She was so afraid she might fail.
And if she did?
She wouldn’t allow herself to contemplate something so terrifying.
The sooner Jack Hawkins was on his way back to London the safer both she and her father would be.
THE DEVIL’S GIFT by Laura Landon
Chapter 10
Jack sat on the edge of the bed and watched out the small window. Dusk was approaching and the sun cast long shadows as it began its descent over the far side of Kingston Manor.
His room suddenly resembled a prison cell.
He listened, eager to hear some indication that someone was bringing him something to eat. Not that he was hungry. Food was the furthest thing from his mind. But there was a chance that when a kitchen maid or one of the footmen came with a tray, he could gather a scrap of information concerning the happenings going on below.
He hadn’t been able to learn anything early this morning. Either the staff had been given instructions not to feed him breakfast, or no one had thought to bring him food.
They’d remembered him at noon though. A young footman by the name of Bings brought him a tray with a large portion of leftover meat from last night and a small loaf of warm bread just out of the oven. Thankfully, either Cook refused to believe the accusations against him, or she liked him well enough to feed him in spite of what Miss Kingston had caught him doing.
Jack had made an effort to start a conversation with the footman but Bings had rushed in with the tray, then rushed back out before Jack could ask him any questions. Another servant he couldn’t see remained in the hallway to guard the door and made sure the door was securely locked behind Bings.
Jack sat down before the food he’d been brought, but found that he wasn’t hungry. He took a few bites of the meat and tore off a hunk of the warm bread, but couldn’t force himself to eat. He was too jumpy not knowing what was going on downstairs.
He was angry because he’d been caught before he could search the entire house. Angry because he hadn’t been able to prove Kingston was behind Shad’s murder.
And he was worried about her.
Jack leaned back in his chair and felt a frown furrow his brow. Where on earth had that thought come from?
Why was he worried about her? She was the one who had the staff at her disposal. She was the one who issued the orders, and from everything he’d seen, the servants were only too glad to follow every demand she made. She was the one who controlled the lives of the girls Lady Rutherford sent to her. Why should he be worried about her? She exhibited more bravery and determination than any woman he’d known.
Jack nearly laughed out loud at the thought of any of Society’s young ladies even associating with someone from the lower class. He couldn’t fathom the wealthy young misses being concerned enough over the welfare of those less fortunate to consider helping them in any way. He couldn’t picture one of them tromping through the darkness at midnight to meet a carriage carrying a stranger she’d never met without swooning from fear.
But he especially couldn’t imagine the courage it took to risk the punishment she’d most likely endure if her father discovered what she’d been doing.
Jack felt a rush of warmth wash over him. He admired her more than he cared to acknowledge. He’d grown more fond of her than he wanted to admit.
Another thought occurred to him. Perhaps Jenna Kingston refused to consider that her father was involved in something illegal because she was afraid of him. Perhaps she didn’t want to face the truth about her father because her conscience would demand she help Jack stop whatev
er illegal venture her father was involved in. But if she was more afraid of Kingston than even Jack realized, her actions made a world of sense.
Jack could not forget the bruised welts he’d seen on her arm when he’d first arrived. Perhaps she had more to fear than he imagined.
His anger escalated at the thought. If it was the last thing he did, he’d make sure Kingston couldn’t harm anyone ever again. Somehow he’d discover what the baron was involved in and see him hanged.
He owed it to Shad.
He owed it to Jenna.
The mere thought of her name spawned a familiar warmth. His senses conjured up the feel of her soft lips against his. His body reacted to the uninvited memory of the pliant young woman in his arms.
Jack breathed in a deep sigh, then banished any thoughts of her when he heard heavy footsteps coming down the hall. He knew it would be asking too much to hope she had accompanied whoever had come to see him.
He stood, wanting to greet his visitor at eye level.
A key turned in the lock and the door opened.
“I assume you’ve found the meal to your satisfaction,” Benton said after he’d entered the room and closed the door behind him.
“Don’t tell me you were concerned for my welfare,” Jack countered, unable to keep the anger from his voice. Or the disappointment because the butler had come alone.
Benton shook his head. “Not really. Somehow I imagine you’ve encountered more perilous events in Her Majesty’s service. You’re undoubtedly used to taking care of yourself.”
“Why didn’t you warn me Miss Kingston was roaming the house?”
Benton shrugged. “Perhaps I decided it was time your true purpose for coming here was exposed.”
Jack controlled a rush of irritation that he tried to mask with nonchalance. “Was I getting too close?”
“Too close?” Benton asked, stepping across the room to sit on the chair Jack had used when his food had been sent. “No, you weren’t getting close to anything that might incriminate Baron Kingston. It’s unlikely you will find anything.”
“Then what?” Jack lowered himself to the edge of the bed. “Why didn’t you warn me I was about to be discovered?”
“Perhaps because it was time you were discovered.”
“You wanted Miss Kingston to catch me?”
“I wanted to spare Miss Kingston from the danger you pose to her.”
Jack straightened. “What danger? Do you think I would harm her?”
“Not physically. Certainly not intentionally. But you’ve already placed her in a position where she wouldn’t be safe.”
Jack couldn’t hide his surprise. “Is her father that cruel?”
Benton sat back in the high-backed chair and smiled. “Let’s just say you pose a danger to the lady I don’t intend to allow.”
Jack thought about Benton’s words and knew there was a meaning there he didn’t quite understand. Or perhaps a meaning he didn’t want to understand.
If Benton didn’t consider Jack a physical threat to Jenna, then he considered him an emotional threat to her.
Well, perhaps he was. But he was no more a threat to her than she was to him.
Jack didn’t want to spend time thinking of what that might mean. He didn’t want to spend one more second thinking about the effect she had on him. Instead, he needed to form a plan that would help him discover anything about Baron Kingston while he was still here. He needed to find out as much as he could before he was sent back to London. And who better to gain information from than Benton.
“Why are you here?” Jack asked casually. “Has Miss Kingston had a change of heart and decided to allow me to stay?”
Benton came as close to laughter as Jack had heard since he’d arrived at Kingston Manor nearly three weeks earlier. “No. Miss Kingston hasn’t had a change of heart. Neither Maggie nor I would have allowed her to change her mind. Truthfully, I doubt she considered it.”
“Then what?”
“I’m here to make sure you are ready to leave when Lady Rutherford’s carriage arrives.”
“Miss Kingston is afraid I might refuse?”
“I’m here to make sure you don’t.”
Jack paused to study the unyielding look in Benton’s eyes.
Benton continued as if he hadn’t taken note of Jack’s evaluative expression.
“Nightfall will be here before long. Cook will prepare a tray and will send it up before dark. Eat well.”
“I’m not hungry.”
“Then wrap what you are brought and take it with you. As you know, London is a long distance from here. You’ll no doubt get hungry before you arrive.”
Jack remembered the day-long carriage journey it took to get here and didn’t relish the idea of repeating it.
“Aren’t you afraid I’ll jump out of the carriage before I’m too far and return?”
Benton shrugged again. “The tenants have orders to shoot anyone caught trespassing on Kingston land.”
That bit of news shocked Jack. “Your orders? Or Baron Kingston’s?”
“Neither. The baroness gave the orders several years ago.”
“Have they ever been carried out?”
“Unfortunately, yes. Not that long ago in fact. Luckily, the trespasser’s wound wasn’t fatal.”
Jack stood to his full height. “And you still refuse to believe Kingston might be involved in something illegal?”
Benton stood to look Jack in the eye. “What I believe or don’t believe is none of your business. The only fact I’m sure of is that Lady Rutherford’s carriage will be here at midnight tonight. When it returns to London, you will be on it. I’ll return for you a little before midnight.”
“You’re going to escort me to my ride?”
“If you were hoping that Miss Kingston intended to bid you goodbye, I wouldn’t hold out much hope. Your last encounter wasn’t exactly what you’d call endearing.”
Jack hated that Benton could read him so easily. He hated more that what Jenna Kingston thought of him mattered so much. Maybe when they met next—
Jack stopped short.
No, when they met next Jack would probably have the proof he needed to convict Jenna’s father. It would probably be when Jack could watch him hang for his involvement in Shad’s death. And after that, Jenna Kingston would never want to see him or speak to him again.
“Gather your belongings and prepare yourself to leave,” Benton said as he reached for the doorknob. Without waiting for any argument, he closed the door behind him and locked it.
Jack sank onto the edge of the bed and stared at the closed door. He wasn’t leaving permanently. Someday he would be back. Someday he would have the proof he needed to accuse Kingston of orchestrating Shad’s murder.
Someday he would see Kingston locked behind bars, if the courts were lenient. He’d see him hanging from his neck until he was dead, if there was any justice left in the world.
Jack lay back on the bed and stared up at the ceiling. Jenna Kingston would hate him when he brought her father to justice. And she would have every right to.
The last thing he intended was to care for Jenna Kingston to the point that his feelings for her overshadowed his desire for justice. Jack knew he wouldn’t be able to live with himself if he allowed Shad’s killer to go unpunished because he’d come to care for the killer’s daughter.
Jack bolted to his feet and stuffed the few clothes he’d brought with him, along with the food Cook had sent up, into a cloth sack that lay at the foot of the bed. He hadn’t found anything to implicate Kingston here, but that didn’t mean there wasn’t something somewhere that would.
Jack threw his pack by the door then walked to the window to wait. He looked out, hoping he’d catch a glimpse of Jenna walking in the garden, or sitting on one of the stone benches. But he was disappointed. All that caught his eye was a light in a window on the floor below his in the east wing of the manor house. A wing he thought was unoccupied.
Jack watched
as candlelight streamed from a second window, and a third, then he heard the growing sounds and shouts of people as they rushed about. He’d been in enough battle situations to know that something important was happening.
In fact, he was beginning to think Kingston Manor was under attack.
. . .
“The baroness is here!”
Jenna jolted to her feet and covered her mouth to muffle the shriek that threatened to turn into a scream.
“No!” she muttered over and over as she raced from the darkened corner of the Kingston library where she’d gone because she couldn’t erase Jack Hawkins from her mind.
She threw open the door and ran down the hallway.
“There you are, Mistress,” Maggie said rushing up to her. “You need to get to your room, now!”
Jenna spun around to climb the stairs, feeling Maggie’s hand at her back, urging her not to waste any time.
“What’s she doing home already?” Jenna said, lifting her skirts high so she could take the steps faster.
“I do na know,” Maggie answered, keeping up with her. “I only know that young Richie raced back ahead of Her Highness’s carriages to warn the staff.”
“But why risk traveling after dark?”
“Her Highness is na in her right mind and well ye know it.”
Maggie reached the top of the stairs and raced down the hall to her room. “But she wasn’t supposed to return for another week at least,” she said after Maggie had closed the door and locked it.
“When has the witch ever done what she was supposed to do?”
“How much time do we have?”
“A quarter hour at most. Richie said Her Highness’s carriage was right behind him.”
“Damn!” Jenna muttered, pacing from one side of her bedroom to the other. “She’ll have the staff up until all hours of the night preparing her something to eat after her trip, and unpacking, and—”
“Richie said she’s been a terror ever since they left London.”
The unease Jenna had felt before intensified. “Does he know why?”
“Nay, but he thinks it must have something to do with her brother. She brought him back with her.”
