Captain Jack Ryder_The Duke's Bastard
Page 17
Chapter Twenty-Three
The following morning Jack instructed his valet to pack the small portmanteau with the clothes he’d taken on his previous journey.
Devon looked stricken. “Might I accompany you tomorrow, Captain? I think you’ll need me.”
“No but thank you, Devon. As you see my needs are simple. Please spend the time I’m away as you see fit. Of course, you will receive your full wages. You may also return to Albany should you wish to earn a little extra. As long as I don’t lose you to the place.”
“Don’t worry, Captain. I’ll be here when you return.”
Jack penned a letter to Ashley who was now at her home in Burford, Oxfordshire. Then he left a list of instructions for his staff. He was pleased with Jenkins, his new steward, who had a good brain, and as the son of a steward was well versed in his position. That evening, Jack joined Grant for a farewell drink in his Mayfair mansion.
Jack looked around the small salon where he and his father had spent many a pleasant evening. “I had hoped to say goodbye to Aunt Elizabeth.”
“I shall relay your message to Mother at breakfast,” Grant said. “She is dining with the Moncrieff’s tonight.”
“She is well?”
“In excellent health. Which I suspect is not the case for Harry,” Grant said with a sympathetic shake of his head.” I wonder how he fares on board the ship.”
“Poorly, I imagine,” Jack replied. “But he has the lovely Erina to hold his head.”
Grant rose to pour them another drink. “I hope your journey will grow tiresome and we see you back here before too long,” he said when he returned. “It’s never dull when you’re around, Jack.”
“Only because I drag you away from your beloved library and your fusty old tomes.”
Grant smiled. “I’m not sure if danger is attracted to you, or you’re attracted to danger. But I take some comfort in the fact that you know how to deal with most situations.”
Ruefully, Jack touched the graze from Renard’s ball on his upper arm, which still stung. “Not always.”
“Here’s to a safe journey.” Grant raised his glass of claret.
“Thank you. I’ll endeavor to write when I reach Ireland.” Jack grinned. “Good luck on the marriage mart.”
Grant shook his head with a wry twist of his lips.
The next day as Jack prepared to leave, a letter arrived from Ashley. He resisted reading it, tucking the missive into his kit. After a final word to his staff, he rode along the Holyhead road toward Wales.
Some hours later, he stopped for the night beneath an oak tree because the weather was warm and the skies clear. He tended to Arian’s needs, then rolled out his bedding beneath the graceful branches of the towering tree. He leaned against the trunk, enjoying the quiet while breathing in the smells of damp grass and earth, and the scents of wild rose, chamomile, beechwood and bramble carried on the breeze.
He took out Ashley’s letter and read it before the gathering dusk obliterated the words. He’d been afraid if he read it sooner he might weaken and go to her.
There was gratitude and regret in every line. Ashely was pleased to be home in Oxfordshire once more with her dog and spent her time repotting some neglected plants. Jack would be in her thoughts every day and every lonely night. You are a very brave man, Jack Ryder, she wrote. But are you brave enough to defy convention? I love you with all my heart, my darling. Whilst I while away the days and months, I shall wait in hope you’ll return to me.
Jack sighed. He wished he could be there with her. But it wouldn’t do. Any day now, a whippet pup would be delivered to Ashley, with Jack’s request for her to name him. Grant had volunteered to make the journey. He would hand her Jack’s letter containing his promise that he would be back before the year was out and would call to see how they both fared.
Jack tucked her letter away with a sad tug at his heart. He would think of her every day and night until they met again.
EPILOGUE
Seven months later…
Jack returned to London from his journey, which took him first to Ireland to view the place where his mother lived and died, and thence to his businesses and his small estate in northern England. And though he had enjoyed special moments of quiet pleasure, and meeting interesting people along the way, all the while he was pulled home, in his heart and mind.
When Devon returned from Albany to work for him, he had considered Jack’s beard a worthy challenge, which he dealt with efficiently. “You’ll feel a good deal lighter, Captain,” he’d observed as he neatened Jack’s side whiskers and cut inches from his hair, leaving it short and wavy. Dressed as a gentleman again, Jack left the city and drove his phaeton to Burford in Oxfordshire.
He was nervous, uncomfortably like an eager youth when he finally guided his horses along the driveway toward the Elizabethan manor house built of Cotswold stone.
Jack tossed the reins to a footman who rushed out to greet him. “Tell a groom to see to the horses, there’s a good fellow.” He went to speak to the butler who waited at the door.
“Captain Ryder, sir. To see Lady Ashley.” Jack handed the dour fellow his card.
“Ah, yes, Captain Ryder, we’ve been expecting you, her ladyship advised me that you might call.”
“Oh, and when was that?”
“More than a month ago now.”
Jack grinned. “Then I’m late. Am I in trouble?”
A smile flickered across the butler’s face. “I shouldn’t like to say, Captain Ryder. If you will take a seat in the drawing room, I shall inform her ladyship that you have arrived.”
Jack smoothed his hair with a hand. “Where is her ladyship?”
The butler looked taken aback. “I believe Lady Ashley is in the orangery.”
“Please direct me there.”
The butler hesitated then straightened his shoulders. “Very well, Captain. Please come this way.”
Jack followed the upright fellow along a long corridor toward the rear of the house. They left the house and crossed a terrace toward the glassed-in orangery. As he approached, two dogs rushed out to greet him with joyous barks. The liver-spotted spaniel held back, but the frisky whippet danced around his legs.
“Max, Brandy, come here!”
The butler discreetly coughed.
“Is that you, Peel? What are those dogs up to now? Is it another rabbit?” Ashley emerged pulling off gardening gloves. Jack noted she had cast off her blacks and was dressed in a gray and violet striped gown. She paused at the door of the orangery, her eyes seeking Jack’s. “Thank you, Peel. We’ll take tea on the terrace. It’s such a pleasant day.”
“Very well, my lady.”
Peel disappeared inside as Jack fended off the whippet’s enthusiastic greeting. He approached her admiring how the sun highlighted her pale hair. “What is the whippet’s name? Max or Brandy?” He rested his hands on her arms and studied her lovely face, the image of which he’d carried on his travels, taking in every feature, while his heart thudded in his chest.
“The whippet is Brandy,” she said in a breathy voice, as she reached up to trace a finger over Jack’s jaw. “You’ve forgiven me, then?”
“What’s to forgive? Your love for your family is commendable, Ashley.” He smiled down at her. “Have you missed me?” He feared that she might have found someone else in his absence. Someone eminently more suitable.
She sighed. “Oh, Jack. You don’t know how much.” She threw her arms around his neck. Parting her lips, she raised herself to meet his kiss.
Jack’s hands framed her slim waist and hungry for her mouth, he kissed her. Then, aware of where they were he drew away with reluctance. “Later, I hope you’ll show me how much.”
“You will stay awhile, won’t you?” She looped her arm through his and drew him toward the terrace. “In the meantime, I want to hear all about your journey.”
“We have plenty of time, Ashley,” Jack said. “I don’t plan to travel again for quite a while.”
“I intend to hold you to that, dearest Jack.”
An indefinable feeling of rightness flooded through him. Society would grow used to seeing them together. They must. “You may hold me any way you like, my love.”
AUTHOR NOTES
Enjoy the story? Book Two of Regency Sons, featuring His Grace, Grant Neville, the Duke of Stamford, is to be released later in 2018.
Was Napoleon Bonaparte murdered? The question has been asked for close to two hundred years since his death on the island of St. Helena. Some historians are convinced that he was poisoned with arsenic over a period, possibly in the wine he drank. And while I won’t go into details here, the finger has been pointed at several suspects, the main one being Napoleon’s sommelier, Charles, Marquis de Montholon. Recent scientific studies of hair removed from Bonaparte at the time of his passing by Louis Marchand, Napoleon’s loyal valet for ten years, reveal traces of arsenic, but not enough to kill him. But for the purposes of this novel, I have played with the truth a little.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Thank you for reading Captain Jack Ryder–The Duke’s Bastard. Maggi Andersen’s love of Georgette Heyer’s wonderful adventure romances which began in her teens, inspires her Regency romances. If you enjoyed the novel an honest review is always appreciated.
Maggi has degrees in English and Creative Writing. Her historical romances are often mysteries, and she also writes contemporary romantic suspense. Her Regency romance series are bestsellers and have been nominated for several awards. She lives with her husband, a retired lawyer, in country New South Wales, Australia. She supports the RSPCA and animals often feature in her books.
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BOOKS BY THE AUTHOR
Regency Series
The Baxendale Sisters
Lady Honor’s Debt
Lady Faith Takes a Leap
Lady Hope and the Duke of Darkness
The Seduction of Lady Charity
The Scandalous Lady Mercy
The Baxendale Sisters Box Set
The Kinsey Family
Unmasking Lady Helen
Regency Sons
Captain Jack Ryder – The Duke’s Bastard
Standalone Stories
The Baron’s Wife
Mystery at Falconbridge Hall
Hostage to Love
Diary of a Painted Lady
How to Tame a Rake
An Improper Earl
Caroline and the Captain
One Scandalous Night
The Earl and the Highwayman’s Daughter
Stirring Passions
At the Earl’s Convenience
Lord Bartholomew’s Christmas Bride
The Duke’s Mysterious Lady
Lady Catherine’s Scandalous Christmas
Contemporary Romantic Suspense
Murder in Devon
With Murderous Intent
Twined (With Adam Frost)
Desperate Measures Anthology – Finding Daniel
Non-Fiction
Castles, Customs and Kings – True Tales by Historical Fiction Authors