His Wicked Kiss

by Gaelen Foley

  “Sail-ho!” the men shouted abovedecks.

  Tra-la!

  “What on earth is that sound?” she exclaimed, nervously tying her bodice and trying to smooth her rumpled hair.

  “That,” he replied, “is my uncle.”

  “Sail-ho!” They could hear Higgins hollering from all the way up in the crow’s nest. “It’s the Valiant, lads! Lord Arthur’s come!”

  A general cheer arose from the men.

  “Sail-ho!”

  Hastening to make themselves presentable after their blazing encounter, Jack and Eden hurried up on deck to greet their guest. Flying the company’s colors and insignia, the frigate, Valiant, soon anchored at a short hailing distance off the starboard bow.

  Jack gave the order for the Winds to drop anchor as well, coming to a full stop.

  Before long, a mellifluous baritone carried across the waves as the noble old captain of the Valiant commanded his crew to lower one of his ship’s boats.

  Soon, they came across the water, the kingly, uniformed fellow standing in the lifeboat in a stately pose while a half dozen of his trusty sailors rowed.

  Jack couldn’t stop smiling. First Eden, and now the old fellow he simply adored. He hadn’t seen Uncle Arthur in nearly seven months.

  As the distinguished nabob clambered aboard The Winds of Fortune, at once, across the decks, everyone cheered at his arrival, for he was loved by all who made his acquaintance.

  Tall and hale, gray-haired with sky-blue eyes and patrician features, Lord Arthur Knight was still handsome in his sixties, nearly as tanned as Jack after thirty years’ service in India.

  Arthur was the younger brother of the duke whom Jack had just finished telling Eden about; indeed, Arthur had incurred his elder brother’s wrath when he had reproached Hawkscliffe for the way he treated Jack as a child. Uncle Arthur was the only person whom Jack could ever recall standing up for him.

  He shook his uncle’s hand warmly, received a clap on the back in return, and with a brief exchange of pleasantries, escorted Lord Arthur toward the quarterdeck.

  Along the way, their distinguished guest greeted familiar faces among his crew never failing, of course, to remember Rudy. Lord Arthur reached into his pocket and tossed out a biscuit for the dog, who was leaping gleefully on him, then he rumpled the Nipper’s hair.

  “Ah! There you are, my brave young lad! Great Zeus, you’ve grown a foot since last we met!” He bent down low to the lad’s eye level, bracing his hands on his thighs. “Now, boy, have you been working on your punches?”

  “Yes, sir!” little Phineas cried enthusiastically.

  “Show me.” Lord Arthur held up his left palm. “Ow!” he exclaimed as the Nipper socked Lord Arthur’s open hand as hard as he could. “Excellent, Mr. Moynahan! Well done. By Jove, you hit quite as hard as Gabriel and Derek did at your age.”

  “Do I really, sir?” The boy sprouted another four or five inches before their eyes at the compliment.

  “Indeed so! But—not yet as hard as Jack did when he was just as big as you. Keep practicing.”

  “Aye-aye, sir!”

  Moving on, Lord Arthur saluted Trahern with affection and bowed to old Brody, spared a nod for Martin and Peter Stockwell, and exchanged a few pleasantries with Mr. Palliser, the surgeon. Everyone beamed to see him.

  Only Trahern sighed to find Lord Arthur had not brought Georgie with him, but it was just as well, Jack thought, for it would have taken ten Traherns to tame that vixen.

  “And who have we here?” Lord Arthur exclaimed with a look of astonishment, as he beheld the red-headed beauty.

  Eden was blushing scarlet, no doubt with the knowledge of their secret liaison belowdecks, though her gown and her hair all looked perfectly demure.

  The contrast between her very proper appearance and her lusty performance of a short while ago fired Jack’s interest anew. Even he was a little shocked by his appetite for her.

  When Lord Arthur glanced at him expectantly, Jack lifted his bride’s dainty hand to his lips and drew her nearer with gentle chivalry, presenting her to him. “This, my good uncle, is Miss Eden Farraday, and would you by chance have a chaplain on board?”

  CHAPTER

  THIRTEEN

  There was a chaplain on board the Valiant, and he married them in a simple ceremony on the quarterdeck at sunset. Afterward, a volley of celebratory cannonfire was let loose, along with cheers from the men for Cap’n Jack and Lady Jay, as the Nipper had dubbed her, now that her legal name was changed to Lady John Knight. A feast was then served in honor of their nuptials, with as fine a meal as could be made down in the galley, and plenty of grog for the men.

  Now lanterns blazed and rustic tunes filled the night. Men sang ballads and played airs on a bouncy fiddle, a high-piping piccolo, and a hurdy-gurdy. Merriment filled the air, but Jack knew the occasion was tinged with sadness for his bride because of her beloved papa’s absence.

  It had fallen to Lord Arthur to bring her before the chaplain and to give her away in her father’s stead. After the ceremony, the nabob had entertained her with amusing stories about his adventures in India, along with a few accounts of his sons’ latest deeds of derring-do with the cavalry there.

  She had listened, smiling, but Jack knew her heart was aching a little. When the meal was over, she let Trahern escort her up to listen to the music, leaving Jack some time to visit privately with his uncle.

  They rose as she left, but sitting down at the table again, Lord Arthur beamed warmly at him. “Well done, my boy. She is a charming creature.”

  Jack smiled faintly in the direction she had gone. “Just being with her feeds my soul,” he declared.

  Lord Arthur arched an eyebrow. “Who are you and what have you done with my ill-tempered nephew?”

  “Oh, leave me alone. A man’s got to get heirs, don’t he?” he drawled as he poured them both another drink.

  “Right. That’s all this is about between the two of you.”

  “Of course.” Jack’s eyes twinkled as he fought to look stern. “She was a stowaway. What else was I to do with her?”

  “Ah, you may try to throw me overboard for saying it, but I know when I see a man in love.”

  Jack shrugged but did not protest it.

  “She’ll be a fine ambassador for you when you go back and face the family, I daresay. Ah—that reminds me!—speaking of ambassadors. Your brother Robert’s friend, Ian, the Marquess of Griffith—”

  “Yes?” he asked. He had just been telling Eden about Maura’s elder brother, Ian.

  “He’s been sent to India to try to negotiate a treaty between our side and the rajas of the Maratha Confederation.”

  “Really?” Jack murmured. He knew that Ian had developed a certain expertise in diplomacy, but most of his work had taken place in Europe, according to Jacinda’s letters. He had been instrumental behind the scenes at the Vienna Congress.

  “He was in the region anyway, apparently purchasing tea plantations. Investment, I suppose. He remembered me from years ago and said he’d be honored to call on me in Bombay when he arrived, but of course, I haven’t been home in months. Georgie wrote, telling me all of this,” he added. “Her letter made its way to me being passed along by your various ships.”

  Jack nodded. His vessels crisscrossing the seas routinely passed along mail for him and his closest contacts, allowing urgent messages to travel from one end of the globe to the other much more quickly than they did for people who weren’t lucky enough to own a shipping company. It was a service that his pretty cousin Georgie did not hesitate to use.

  “Last I heard,” Arthur continued, “things were coming to quite a boil between the army and the Maratha princes. Trust was so eroded on both sides that an outside negotiator was being sought—someone with whom both sides would feel comfortable—and of course Lord Griffith has developed such a sterling reputation.”

  “Indeed.”

  “It was sheer luck that a negotiator of his expertise was so near to hand.
I shall be sorry to miss his visit, but Derek and Gabriel will at least get to meet him up at the frontier.”

  Jack arched an eyebrow. “Won’t Georgie get to meet him, as well? If he’s planning on calling on you at your palace in Bombay—?”

  “I’m trying not to think about that,” Lord Arthur said drily, “considering I’m not there to make sure my daughter behaves herself.”

  Jack snorted. “Even if she doesn’t, Ian will. He was always so upright and serious, Arthur. You’ve got nothing to worry about.”

  “But you don’t understand. To Georgie, a standoffish fellow will seem like a jolly challenge for her seductive skills. With most men, she only has to smile to make them fall in love.”

  “You shouldn’t have named her after my mother,” Jack taunted with a smile.

  “I liked your mother,” he retorted. “And admired her. After the heroic way she died, I was happy to name my daughter after her in tribute.”

  Jack grumbled a wordless answer and tossed back a swallow of liquor.

  “In any case, the letter from Georgie wasn’t the only communiqué I received on my way here to meet you. I hate to put a blot on the festivities, but—” Arthur hesitated. “Hard news from Venezuela, Jack.”

  He sat forward. “What news?”

  “The war began in earnest shortly after you set sail, and I am sorry to say it is off to a very poor start.”

  “What happened?”

  “A brutal defeat at La Puerta,” he murmured. “General Morillo managed to ambush Bolivar’s little fledgling infantry in a ravine. Chaos.” Lord Arthur shook his head. “Bolivar himself was nearly killed in the retreat. The Spanish captured fifteen hundred muskets, munitions, all the baggage and supplies, even the flags.”

  Jack whispered an expletive.

  “Paez with his cavalry of llaneros managed to protect the infantry from complete destruction, but in the confusion, the Spanish got hold of Bolivar’s personal effects—including all of his correspondence. The mail bag apparently contained a letter from Don Eduardo Montoya confirming for Bolivar that their ‘agent’ had been dispatched to London to procure reinforcements as agreed.”

  “I see,” Jack murmured. “So, now they know I’m coming.”

  “Well, no, they know someone’s coming. The letter did not mention your name, of course, but the Spanish no doubt will have warned Whitehall that an agent has been sent to London for recruitment purposes. The Crown as well as the Spanish embassy in London will be on the hunt to find out who this ‘agent’ is.”

  Jack fell silent. He folded his arms across his chest and leaned back slowly in his chair, brooding on this new intelligence. The Spanish already hated him for protecting Bolivar a few years ago on Jamaica, but he did not need his uncle to explain what could happen if he failed in his quest. What was left of Bolivar’s army was doomed if they did not soon get reinforcements; Angostura would be burned to the ground, and the leaders of the revolution put before the firing squad.

  “I’m not going to let that happen,” he said quietly.

  “No, I didn’t expect that you would,” Lord Arthur replied. “But be careful, Jack. It’s your neck on the line. You know, you mentioned your plan about taking over that rival firm in London, but it seems to me that now you’ve got an even better cover to help explain your presence in Town after all these years.”

  Jack looked at him in question.

  Arthur shrugged. “It is entirely appropriate that you should bring your young bride back to England to meet the whole family.”

  At once, Jack shook his head. “I could never use her as a shield for my activities. I don’t want her anywhere near all of this.”

  His uncle frowned, looking puzzled. “Well, what are you going to do with her, then?”

  “I’m leaving her at the castle in Ireland,” he admitted in a low tone.

  “I see. And is young Lady Jay aware of this?” he asked dubiously. “Because earlier I heard her speaking with your valet about some of the sights she so looked forward to seeing in London.”

  Jack sent him an uneasy smile.

  “Aha. You haven’t told her yet.”

  “Not exactly.”

  “I see. Well. First marital spat, dead ahead.”

  Jack leaned closer, lowering his voice. “She’s not going to like it, of course, but she’s going to have to do as she’s told. I’m her husband now. She has no choice but to do as I say.”

  Lord Arthur laughed at his assertion.

  Jack frowned. “What? Why do you laugh?”

  “No reason. After you’ve been married a month, we’ll talk again. But tell me, dear lad, why haven’t you told her your plans?”

  He shifted warily in his chair. “I didn’t want to upset her.”

  “Bull! It’s cowardice. Not that I blame you, of course,” he added as he sat back in his chair again. “I would rather fight the Grand Armada than an angry wife any day.”

  “Eden will do as she’s told.”

  “Does she usually?”

  Jack thought it over for a whole five seconds. “No,” he announced, then he sighed. “Bloody hell.”

  Lord Arthur chuckled and swirled the drink in his glass. A glimmer of roguery danced in his eyes. “If you think getting your wife to mind is difficult, wait until you have children.”

  “You’re not helping matters.”

  “If you ask me, she could be a great asset to you in London. Why don’t you want to bring her?”

  “Because it’s dangerous!”

  “For you, yes, but not for her. Not really.”

  “How so?”

  “The main threat is from government agents. English lawmen, Spanish spies. Both are beholden to the rule of law. You’re not dealing with thugs and criminals this time. Spain may dislike you, but we both know Spanish chivalry is such that women and children are off limits. Having Eden by your side in London would help to camouflage your activities.”

  “I told you, I will not use my wife as a shield. I don’t need a woman’s protection.”

  “But if she’s not in danger and London makes her happy, why not bring her? I hate to see the two of you at odds, as you soon will be, I fear. Are you worried she might say something indiscreet about your mission?”

  Jack considered this, then shook his head. “No,” he admitted with frank honesty. “She’s naive on occasion, but with my life on the line, she’d never let herself blunder. She’s very loyal to me—almost protective, in her own little way.” A reluctant smile tugged at his lips.

  “I see.” Lord Arthur frowned in suspicion. “Well, then. Your refusal to bring her along wouldn’t have anything to do with that Maura woman, would it?”

  “No, no.”

  “I know for a long time you wanted to make her sorry for what she did to you.”

  “Well, that doesn’t really matter anymore.”

  “So, what’s the problem, then?”

  Jack stared at him in silence. Then he shook his head. “I don’t know.”

  “I think you do. But, Jack, you’ve got to give Eden a chance to prove she will stand true by your side no matter what anyone has to say about you.”

  “Even if the things they say are true?” he countered, then paused. “I don’t want to lose her, Arthur. I don’t think I could stand it.”

  “Lock her up against her will the way you’re planning, and you may do just that.”

  “It’s for the best.”

  “For whom? For Eden or for you?”

  Jack looked away impatiently.

  “What are you afraid of?” his uncle asked in a low tone.

  “You want to know? Fine!” he whispered angrily. “She’s so damned set on London and the ton. What if we get there and people won’t accept her because of me? Because she’s mine? I want her to be happy. I don’t want her to get hurt.”

  “And you don’t want her to see the way they shamed you.”

  He lowered his head. “No. I really don’t want her to see that at all. Is that so wrong
? She’ll lose respect for me.” Head down, he looked at Arthur fiercely. “I will not permit her to be humiliated because of me.”

  “Oh, I don’t know, Jack. She strikes me as a very strong girl, not the type to let the ton bully her. Besides, you already told her about your real father.”

  “Yes. But it’s different when you see a thing for yourself.”

  “Jack, it’s been a very long time since those days. You’re not that angry, powerless seventeen-year-old anymore. You’ve got fortune. Vast power. You’ve got twenty years of hard experience under your belt. Use it.”

  The crisp tone in his uncle’s voice drew his attention up sharply. He eyed him with wary interest. “What do you mean?”

  “If you want the ton to accept Eden, then make them accept you.”

  “I never could before.”

  “You never tried. You told them all to go to hell, remember?”

  “Well.” His wry shrug was indeed an admission of guilt. “I don’t know.” He shook his head cynically. “What would you have me do, Uncle? Play the game? Bend the knee to Lady Jersey? Sue for vouchers to Almack’s? Gamble at the clubs, for God’s sake? Waste my afternoons driving in the park like a fop?”

  “Yes, Jack. Play the game. You might surprise yourself.”

  “But I don’t want to!”

  “Why?”

  “I don’t know—it would seem an admission of defeat.”

  “How?”

  “I let those people know quite clearly when I left that I didn’t give a damn for their amusements or their shallow little lives.”

  “Ah, and to reverse yourself now though twenty years have passed would be a blow to your pride.”

  “Damned right! Uncle—you have no room to talk on this subject. You’ve been an exile even longer than me.”

  “Aye, I know the cost of having too much pride even better than you do, Jack. I only want you to be happy.”

  “Eden makes me happy.”

  “Then if you are wise, you will make her happy.” Arthur watched him with a canny smile. “What you want is beside the point. What does Eden want? If you love her, that is the only question that matters.”