by Laura Landon
Jenna stopped to digest that last bit of unwelcome news. “Benton will have to get Jack Hawkins out of here before the baroness sees him.”
“You know Benton won’t be able to leave the manor now that Her Highness is back. She’ll have a list of orders for him that’ll take him and most of the staff the rest of the night.”
“Then you will—”
“You know that’s not possible either, Miss. Benton and I already decided that you’re the only one that can get Hawkins out of the Manor without being missed.”
Jenna knew that was true. If Eleanor had brought her brother back with her, she wouldn’t want Jenna anywhere near. And even if she did ask to see Jenna, Maggie could always explain that Jenna wasn’t well and had already gone to bed. But—
Jenna walked to the window and lifted the frame. A light, cool breeze washed over her and she looked out into the darkness while thinking of another alternative.
The thought of being alone with Jack Hawkins after last night wasn’t something she looked forward to. The thought of being alone with him one last time was something she’d do almost anything to avoid.
The thought of watching him leave her, knowing she’d more than likely never see him again was something she didn’t want to contemplate. And yet, at least being with him would give her one last chance to explain that it was impossible for her father to be involved in anything criminal. It would give her one last chance to find out who had sent him here and why.
Jenna turned away from the open window. “What plan did you and Benton come up with?”
“The minute the witch arrives, go up to get Hawkins. Take him down the back stairway and out the kitchen door. Take him as far as the gardens off the master’s study and tell him it’s up to him to find his way to the carriage.”
“What if he returns?”
“Benton said to tell him if he isn’t in that carriage when it leaves...” Maggie hesitated “...he’ll shoot him the next time he sees him.”
Jenna’s hand flew to her throat. “He wouldn’t.”
Maggie simply shrugged her shoulders, but it was the most blatant answer Jenna could have received. Benton would. He’d do anything to protect Jenna. He had several times in a handful of years.
“I’ll make sure Hawkins understands that he must leave.”
“Good,” Maggie answered, then stopped to listen. “She’s here. You can feel the difference in the whole house. She’s evil. Even the walls are shivering in fear.”
Jenna wanted to argue. But couldn’t.
“Go now, Miss. Benton and I will take care of the witch. You just make sure you get Hawkins safely out of here.”
Maggie left the room in a rush. Jenna gave her a few short minutes, then raced to the back stairs and down the hall to Jack Hawkins’ room. She gave a rapid knock, then threw open the door and rushed inside.
It was the most foolish thing she’d ever done.
THE DEVIL’S GIFT by Laura Landon
Chapter 11
Jack bolted from the chair where he’d been sitting and stared at the last person he expected to come bursting through his door. His first impulse was to make an amusing comment concerning his surprise to see her in his room. The stark expression on her face stopped him from making any glib remark. “What’s wrong?”
The unease that had been steadily building within him became even stronger. He took a step toward her.
“Nothing.” She stepped inside and pressed her back against the closing door.
Her chest heaved as if she were out of breath, but Jack knew the reason for her rapid breathing was more than exertion. The fear he saw in her eyes reinforced his guess.
“Something’s wrong. From the rushing about below it sounds as if we are under attack.”
“We have to leave.”
“Now?”
There were more than two hours until midnight.
“Yes, now.”
Jenna opened the door a crack and looked in both directions. “Hurry,” she said, pointing at the small sack he’d packed. “We have to go.”
She rushed out into the hallway, not giving him time to hesitate.
Jack grabbed his belongings and followed her down the servants’ staircase, through the busy, staff-filled kitchen, then out into Cook’s well-kept herb and vegetable garden.
“That’s far enough,” he said, grabbing her arm to stop her. “What’s going on?”
“We can’t stop here,” she answered, her gaze darting from one side of the house to the other. “We have to go to the other side.”
Jack let her lead the way around the corner of the manor house, around the terrace that flanked the baron’s study, then down the path that wound through the carefully tended Kingston gardens. She didn’t stop until they were well away from the house.
She paused a second as they reached the edge of the path that led to an open meadow. It was the same way they’d come the night he arrived. Jack knew if he stayed in the shadows and cut through the copse of trees to the right, he’d come out into the clearing where Lady Rutherford’s carriage would arrive at midnight.
“Do you know where we are?” she asked pacing back and forth along the cobbled walkway.
“Yes.”
She nodded, then reached into a pocket in her skirt and pulled out a large, ornate pocket watch. “Here,” she said, handing it to him. “Wait until midnight, then make your way to the clearing.”
Jack stared at the watch she’d given him. “Is this your father’s?”
His question seemed to surprise her.
“What difference does it make whose it is? You’ll need to know the time so you aren’t late.”
“Is it your father’s?”
“Yes!”
Jack knew it was. Just as he was certain that something personal that belonged to the man who’d killed his brother should have burned his hand. Instead, the watch felt warm and right.
He put the watch in his jacket pocket, then studied the confused expression on Jenna’s face. “What’s going on?”
When she didn’t answer right away, he clasped his fingers around her upper arms and pulled her close. “What?”
“Nothing. It’s nothing.”
Jack tried to make light of her remark. “Of course. There’s nothing unusual about the household staff rushing about like they’re preparing the house for the Queen to arrive. Especially at this hour of the night after most of them had already retired.”
She tried to pull out of his grasp. But he wouldn’t let her.
“And there’s nothing uncommon about finding Cook and all the kitchen staff busy cooking a meal this late. Especially when everyone has already eaten.”
Jack didn’t try to keep the sarcasm from his voice. With one hand holding her tight, he placed a finger to the side of her jaw and turned her head. Then he lifted her chin so she had no choice but to look at him. “What’s going on?”
She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, then opened her mouth and spoke in a shuddering voice. “They’ve returned.”
“Who has returned? Your father?”
Her only answer was several short shakes of her head. “You have to leave. You’re not safe here any longer.”
She unconsciously rubbed her left arm.
“Are you?”
“I’m fine.”
Jack looked into her eyes and knew she was lying. “Come with me. Come to London with me. I’ll send for your clothing and as many servants as you want to take. You can go to your aunt’s.”
“No!”
“Why?”
“Because...”
Her eyes grew wide and she looked as if she was on the verge of tears.
Jack had never felt such concern, such protectiveness for someone else in his life. For the first time ever he wanted to wrap another person in his arms and hold her to keep her safe. He wanted to shelter her and tell her everything would be all right. He wanted to shield her from every danger and never let her out of his sight.
�
��Something’s wrong,” he whispered. “What can I do to help?”
With her face tilted upward so there was no chance he could misread her expression, her eyes filled with wetness that she rapidly blinked away.
“What can I do?” he repeated. “Tell me.”
She swallowed once, then softly said, “Hold me. Please, hold me.”
Jack didn’t hesitate. In a swift, gentle motion, he pulled her against him as he wrapped his arms around her. Her head rested against his chest with her cheek pressed against his beating heart, and when he thought nothing could be more perfect, she circled her arms around his waist and held tight.
Jack pressed a light kiss against her hair, then rested his cheek against the top of her head. Perhaps it was his imagination, but he thought he heard and felt a sigh of contentment whisper gently against his chest.
His emotions couldn’t stay steady any longer. A woman he’d had no intention of allowing anywhere near his heart had found her way inside that secret hiding place and made a space for herself. His whole life he’d vowed he wouldn’t be the one to fall in love and marry. Shad was the rightful Devlin heir, even though he’d done everything in his power to distance himself from the responsibilities that went with his position. So Jack had taken his place.
Jack had been the son his father had relied on; Jack the son who’d stepped in to manage the estate affairs; Jack the one who’d taken over when Shad had ignored his responsibilities. But Jack had sworn he wouldn’t be the one to provide the Devlin heir. Jack wasn’t the firstborn. He’d known Shad felt his younger brother had taken everything else away from him. He wouldn’t take that away too.
So Jack had shied away from entanglements of any sort. He’d satisfied his desires only with women who weren’t looking for an attachment. Only with women who knew from the beginning that nothing would come of their affair. He’d never considered that the day would come when someone would claim his heart as her own.
Without separating her from where she pressed against his body, he placed two fingers beneath her chin and tilted her face upward. Her gaze locked with his and the passion he saw in her eyes was as intense as the raging desire roiling within him.
“Yes,” he heard her whisper as he brought his lips down to meet hers.
Their kiss was tentative at first, neither of them sure enough of the emotions stirring inside them to rush headlong into something they didn’t understand. He gathered her closer, then opened his mouth atop hers and waited for her invitation to enter.
It took only a moment before she breathed a heavy sigh and answered.
He tilted his head to the side to gain better access, then, with his hands moving down her back and hips, he pressed her close against him and deepened his kiss.
Their tongues touched, explored, probed with a grace that defied comprehension. It was no battle, yet it was as intense as any he’d known; an encounter as passionate as any in which he’d engaged.
He’d kissed her twice before, but neither time had been this earth shattering. Neither time had been this revealing. And for the first time in his life he glimpsed a future where emotions this intense were gifts freely given.
He kissed her again, then again, until neither of them could breathe. When he feared if he continued he wouldn’t be able to stop, he lifted his mouth from her.
She sagged in his arms and he pulled her to him and held her close.
Her body was limp, seemingly drained of all strength.
Jack felt the same, as if he’d just run some mortal race and finished far ahead of the other runners. He felt...victorious.
For several long, wonderful seconds neither of them moved. But Jack knew time was running out on them. He knew he had to find some answers to the growing concerns building within him. Answers that would keep her safe.
“Who has returned? Is it your father?”
She lifted her head but didn’t step out of his arms.
“It’s my stepmother.”
“Baroness Kingston? What about your father?”
She shook her head.
“Where is he?”
“I can’t tell you that.”
“Can’t? Or, won’t?”
Instead of answering him, she tried to step out of his arms. When he wouldn’t allow her to separate herself, she turned her face away from him. He placed his finger against her chin and brought her gaze up to meet his.
“You’re afraid,” he whispered, when he felt her shiver in his arms. “Are you afraid of your stepmother?”
She didn’t answer, but the way she avoided his gaze told him she was. “Let me help you, Jenna. Tell me what to do.”
Her muscles stiffened and he knew he’d asked too much of her.
“Won’t you trust me?”
The minute his question left his mouth he wanted to take it back. Of course she couldn’t trust him. What made him think she could? He’d come to Kingston Manor under false pretenses. He’d lied to gain her trust, and spent every night searching the rooms of her home.
“What can I do to help you?”
Even though he was sincere in his offer, he could tell from her reaction it was impossible for her to accept his help. The fear he’d glimpsed when she’d rushed into his room and stopped with him here in the moonlight was slowly evaporating. In place of the alarm he’d seen earlier, the inner strength he’d admired so much when they’d first met was back in equal measure.
He felt her stiffen in resolve.
“Do you really want to help me?” she asked.
“Of course I do.”
“Then stay here and don’t return to the house. When Lady Rutherford’s carriage comes, promise me you’ll be on it.”
“And what will you do?”
She was distancing herself from him with every passing second. Her answer reflected her separation. “I can take care of myself.”
“You shouldn’t have to. Your father should be here to protect you.”
“Leave my father out of this.”
“I suspect your father is at the heart of this. At the heart of everything.”
She pulled out of his arms, taking one step after another away from him. It was as if she was marking her safety by small degrees.
“Lady Rutherford’s carriage will be here in less than an hour. Stay here until it arrives.”
“You can send me away even after what we just shared?”
Her eyes opened wide. “I’ve already forgotten anything we might have just shared, Mr. Hawkins. It meant nothing to me.”
She turned to go but he couldn’t let her. There were too many unanswered questions gnawing at him. A sense of imminent danger he couldn’t erase from his mind. A feeling of foreboding that told him not to let her out of his sight.
“Jenna?”
She turned on him before she’d taken a half dozen steps. “I am Miss Kingston to you. I always have been. I always will be.”
The full silvery moon shone down on her as she issued the harshest order he’d ever heard her command. He knew she intended him to take her seriously, but how could he?
Especially with the break he heard in her voice and the wetness he saw glimmer in her eyes.
She hurried back toward the house nearly at a run.
It wasn’t until she was near the edge of the garden that he glanced upward and noticed the lamplights glowing in a second story window of the wing he’d always thought was uninhabited. But it wasn’t uninhabited now.
A shadow filled the window, a petite, elegant form watching them from above.
Jack stepped back into the shadows, feeling the need to hide his presence. Yet, knowing he’d already been spotted. And so had Jenna.
The person left her spot at the window and Jack breathed a sigh of relief. He’d take extra care before he made his way to the carriage just in case someone came to investigate his presence.
Jack tipped the watch Jenna had given him toward the full moon. He had another quarter hour before Lady Rutherford’s carriage arrived. He crou
ched in the shadows, drawing on every skill he’d learned in the war. He would do everything in his power to keep Jenna from any trouble.
A cloud skittered over the moon, casting the place where he’d been hiding in eerie shadows. Though he still had a few minutes, it was the perfect time to go. With the moon hidden behind the cloud cover, he would be hard to spot as he made his way across the open meadow.
Jack stood, then took his first step away from Kingston Manor. His worn boots hadn’t touched down to take his second step when a muffled scream stopped him short.
The sound came from inside the house, and Jack knew he never would have heard it had he not been concentrating on every sound around him.
He spun around and listened. Another indistinct sound followed the first.
As he raced back to the manor, he was aware of only one fact.
The pain-filled cry was Jenna’s.
Jack ran as fast as he’d ever run in his life, covering the same path he and Jenna had traveled a few minutes earlier. Instinct told him he should take more care, that Jenna had been so concerned that they not be discovered. But that no longer mattered. All he cared about was reaching her.
Jack burst through the kitchen door. He’d learned to take note of his surroundings and the first thing he noticed was a circle of the younger scullery maids huddled in a corner. They were all in tears.
“Hurry, Hawkins,” Cook said, wringing the corner of her apron between her two plump hands. “Save the mistress. Make her stop.”
Jack’s heart thundered in his chest. Cook had tears in her eyes.
He ran faster, down the long hall, across the marble-floored entryway, then up the stairs to the second floor. An open balcony overlooked the foyer and Jack ran past the closed guest bedroom doors, then turned the corner into the west wing toward Jenna’s suite of rooms. Her father’s was in the same long hallway. He’d discovered that when he’d first arrived.
And he’d searched them.
But no one had told him the other wing was inhabited, too. And he hadn’t thought to inquire.
Jack uttered an unrepeatable swear word and ran faster.
A small crowd of servants were huddled outside Jenna’s door, but they weren’t the object of his focused gaze as he neared them. His eyes were drawn to the tall, muscular butler pacing the floor from one side of the hall to the other.
