Lords of the Isles

by Le Veque, Kathryn

  *

  Jack pressed the thin layer of his shirt to his mouth, but it did little good.

  The only woman he’d ever loved was somewhere in these flames. The only person that could have made his life worth living. His heart screamed in agony. Death to every Chance had once been his mantra. I didn’t mean it, his mind thundered. I didn’t mean it!

  Jack tore down the hall, dodging flying fragments of burning wood. Moving faster and faster towards the left wing, towards her office. The stairwell to the left wing appeared. A body lay sprawled, shrouded in smoke.

  Regan!

  Jack vaulted towards her. His stomach rushed to his throat and he swallowed down his fear. Any moment, the roof could collapse. But he’d found her.

  Jack scooped Regan up into his arms and ran. As he pumped his legs, fighting fatigue, all he could feel was love. Love for her, her beliefs, and the man she had made him. A man who wanted to live and love, and leave behind the darkness.

  Jack neared the opening. Instead of the clear entrance he’d come in through, he met an inferno. The fire danced like enraged gods passionately entwining all along the walls, floor and ceiling. Jack squeezed Regan to his chest and knew what he had to do. Looking down, he tilted Regan’s head back and pressed a kiss to her lips.

  “I love you,” he rasped.

  Tightening his grip and curling his body around hers, Jack flung himself into the flames and straight towards the opening.

  Jack dodged the licking fire as heat sucked the moisture off his skin. Narrowing his eyes, he spotted the shadow of a man, just at the opening. “Help!”

  The man sprang into action. He ran to them and pulled Regan from his arms.

  “I’ve got her, gov,” the stranger said.

  He turned and ran straight out the entrance.

  Relief rushed through Jack. As he staggered forward, his foot caught on a charred board. He tumbled to the ground. His body hit the wood with a crack, knocking the air out of him. He dug his fingers into the floor and pushed himself up. The fire growled and crackled. He looked up over his shoulder as a piece of the ceiling shook loose and plummeted down.

  His last thoughts raced through his brain like a gunshot. At least Regan would live.

  But at that moment, he would have traded his soul to get just one more moment with her.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  The strong arms wrapped around her were not Jack’s. Regan blinked and looked up at the rough, angled face of the man holding her.

  Jack had whispered to her that he loved her. He’d been holding her moments ago. Hadn’t he? Fear ripped at her heart as Regan searched the faces around her. “Jack?”

  The man holding her stared straight at the entrance of the hospital, his face white beneath the soot. Regan followed his gaze and suddenly realized what it meant. She shoved against the man’s shoulders.

  “Release me!” His grip tightened on her shoulders and legs and she shrieked, “No! You can’t!”

  The man’s fingers dug into her body, unrelenting.

  She had to save him. Just like he’d saved her. “Release me, now!”

  “You’ll die. Anyone what goes in there is dead!” the man yelled down at her, his brown eyes wide and determined.

  Jack was not going to die. Regan sunk her teeth into the man’s shoulder. He yelped and his grip relaxed. Regan shoved him and jumped down from his arms. She pushed aside the onlookers as she raced towards the wide steps. Heat pulsed from the building as she neared the steps.

  Regan rushed to the open doorway and her heart slammed in her chest. She spotted Jack’s white shirt. He lay face down, covered in burning wood.

  Tears sprang to her eyes, but she vaulted forward. The building groaned and Regan staggered back. A flash of red filled her vision. The ceiling buckled and a large chunk crashed. Just by Jack.

  Regan screamed. She was not going to let him die. “Somebody!” she yelled. “Help me! My husband is still inside!” But no one stepped forward as the fire raged.

  By God, she would not watch him die. Regan fisted her hands and ran forward. But a pair of hands grabbed her shoulders and tossed her back down the steps and into the crowd.

  A wild, low-pitched growl tore from her throat. They were going to let him die! She hadn’t even told him that she loved him, too.

  Regan faced the crowd and caught a glimpse of jet black hair and a silk white shirt as a man ran past her into the fire. She knew his hard-planed features and piercing, dark eyes. It was Lord Ashecroft. And he was walking straight into hell as if he were Lucifer himself.

  *

  Jack struggled to crawl from beneath the heavy beam wedged above him like a caved-in tunnel. For once in his life, God had given him a glimpse of love and peace. And he’d thrown it away. Any moment, he was going to pass out from the smoke. And then he’d be roasted like a Christmas goose.

  A hand appeared in front of Jack’s face. A broad hand. “It’s a bit warm in here for my tastes. You?” the man yelled over the cracklings of the fire.

  “Personally, I always liked a good blaze.”

  “Good thing you’re going to hell then, you bastard.” Adam grabbed the beam and strained, but then, with one roar, he shoved the heavy wood to the side. “But not today.”

  Adam offered his blackened hand.

  Jack threw his arm over Adam’s shoulder, uncertain of his own vision and balance. Half dragging, they ran for the door, dodging spurts of flame and debris. Just as they burst outside, rain spattered from the heavy clouds across the wide steps.

  The cool, blessed water sluiced down Jack’s body. Adam wiped a hand over his face, smearing it with ashes. “Just when I’d begun to enjoy the heat.”

  The rain blurred Jack’s vision of the crowd. Where was she?

  “Jack! I’m here!” She ran forward, pushing through the tight crowd. “I’m here!”

  Her ripped gown clung in blackened strips to her slim body. Dirt and ash plastered her red hair to her head and streaks of gray ran down her face.

  She was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.

  Jack grabbed her and squeezed her against his body. “Forgive me,” he begged. “No secrets. Ever again.”

  He thrust his hands into her tangled hair and looked down into her blue eyes. “I love you.”

  She raised her hands to his back. “I love you, too.”

  Raindrops dotted her face mixing with the sheen of water shimmering in her eyes. “I was afraid I would never be able to tell you.”

  “Say it again,” he growled.

  She smiled, her teeth white against her dirty face. “I love you, Jack.”

  She tucked her head against his chest.

  Joy, unlike he’d ever known, bloomed in his chest and, for a moment, he thought he was going to cry. He’d almost lost her. Hell he’d almost lost her too damned many times. “Let’s go home.”

  Adam guided them towards his carriage and shut the door behind them. “I’ll be coming for the information you promised me this morning.”

  Jack nodded. Not caring. He’d sent a missive to Adam when O’Malley had left, certain he’d be able to get the papers from Chiles. But now, nothing mattered in the world but Regan’s safety. The violence had to stop. And it would stop with him.

  *

  Chiles strode down the hallway, his heart thudding in his chest. It was going to be done. At last, it would all be behind him and he would be through with the daily drudgery of fighting his granddaughter. The last remnant of his beautiful, but fatally flawed, eldest son would be gone.

  He turned a corner and stopped. The nursery door stood open. Unbidden, his feet led him to the room. Slowly, he pressed the panel inward and stepped inside. He stared into the shadowy room only lit by the faint flicker of flame.

  This mess never should have begun. And it certainly should have ended with James, but who would have thought his daughter would have pushed so hard and clamored so intensely for the dregs of society? But now, the fire would cleanse the city of Regan�
��s Republican ideals. The people would forget any ideas of equality and remember that the lords and their king were ordained by God to guide them.

  As he crossed over to the fireplace, he swallowed. Why had it been so hard for James and Regan to understand that their work had undermined everything that England and the monarchy stood for? If they had continued, good God, there would have been blood running through London’s streets. Just as in Paris so few years ago.

  Yes. He’d done the right thing. He’d done what any peer of the realm should do when faced with sedition and insurrection. Other dukes in history had sacrificed their traitorous sons for their king. No matter what could be said of him, he was loyal to his king.

  Still, his hands shook as he leaned against the mantel. His gaze drifted left and he spotted the slightly cracked hatch in the wood. Chiles blinked.

  It wasn’t possible.

  A servant must have brushed the catch and opened the hiding place. Even so, he reached out and placed his hand into the opening. Instead of paper, his fingers met nothing.

  He jerked his hand back and took a wavering step from the fire. It had been foolish, he knew, but he hadn’t been able to throw any of his son’s letters away. Not even the one so accurately describing his murderous intent.

  If the letters were gone…

  Chiles turned slowly, unsure what action to take. Who had them? And what in God’s name were they going to do with them?

  Chapter Thirty

  Jack’s hand brushed long, silken hair and he inhaled the scent of lavender. Regan. Alive and in his arms. He opened his eyes and lifted his head from the pillow. Rich, red hair spilled across his chest. The gentle weight of her hand pressed against his heart as she cuddled against him.

  In his lifetime, he had spent many nights with women, but he’d only woken with one. His wife.

  Regan stirred against him and lifted her head up. She blinked.

  “Good morning,” she said, her voice was rough from the fire.

  The dreamy look in her eyes touched Jack. He brushed a strand of hair from her forehead. “Good morning.”

  She stared at him, her eyes searching his face. A hint of confusion flickered in them.

  Jack froze. Was she regretting what she’d said yesterday? Was she regretting being here with him? Jack brushed his fingers over her lips. “What is it?”

  “Jack… ”

  The tone of her voice sent a chill through him. He lowered his hand to the bed.

  “Why did you not tell me the truth?” she whispered.

  If he told the truth, the happiness that she had brought to his life might vanish. Forever. If he lied… He didn’t want to lie to her. Jack grated his teeth together. For a few moments, he’d know her love. That would have to be enough.

  He refused to lie to her any more. He loved her too much. Taking her hand in his, he confessed, “I love you, so much it almost frightens me. But…”

  The words crashed in his throat, begging him not to say the things that would drive her away but he had to. “I did use you in the beginning.”

  Regan blanched, but didn’t move away from him. “I don’t understand.”

  After a moment, she sat up, wrapping the blanket about herself. “You used me to hurt him, didn’t you?”

  Misery crept into Jack’s chest and he wiped a hand over his face, suddenly tired. “Your grandfather had hired me just before I met you. He said if you knew he had directly hired me, you would not use my services.”

  “And was working for the Duke of Chiles so very important to you?”

  “Yes. It was.”

  Regan’s lips parted in surprise.

  “Do you remember how I had joined the military as a boy?” Jack swallowed. He’d never talked about this. Not even to O’Malley.

  She nodded, sympathy temporarily softening her eyes.

  “Before that…” Jack fisted his hands in the blankets as memories rushed in on him. “Before that, I worked in a factory with another boy, Devlin, in the north country.”

  Regan closed her eyes. Pain flitted across her face. “Whose factory?”

  “It was a munitions factory. Your grandfather’s.”

  Her eyes stayed shut, but her entire body tensed as if against a blow. “How long were you there?”

  Images of the freezing north country came to him. Boys had died in their sleep, their eyes open, a sheen of frost dusting their blue skin. Days had started long before the sun came up and did not end until long after it had gone down. The pinched-white faces of his skeleton-like workmates floated before him.

  “Over five years,” he grated. “After we reached an age when our hands were not as nimble as the younger ones, we were sold to a corrupt recruiting officer. At a few schillings each.”

  The color drained from Regan’s face and a single tear slipped down her cheek.

  “You must hate my family so much,” she whispered.

  Jack wiped the tear from her skin, the warm water a reminder of the tears he’d never let himself cry.

  “Yes.” The word seemed so small.

  Hate?

  It lacked the ability to encompass his obsession with the duke and what he had done to hundreds of children. He had stolen their innocence, their hopes, their lives, and given them hard souls, broken bodies, and the wish that death would take them in sleep.

  Regan opened her eyes. Pain for him darkened them. “This is why you lied to me?”

  Jack shoved himself into a sitting position. The blanket pooled around his waist. She was going to hate him. He swallowed. “Initially, I considered you a tool to use against your grandfather.”

  The muscles in her cheeks tightened, but she didn’t look away. “How?”

  “By working for him, I had regular communication with him, a chance to infiltrate, to know him better and how he worked. In truth, you would have been but a small part of my revenge.” Jack paused, uncertain how to explain what had happened to him. “I never expected to care for you. But I did. I cared far too much for you. And the way you fought for your cause.”

  “Is that all?” Her eyes searched his face.

  He looked away for a moment. Maybe he shouldn’t tell her everything. But he loved her. More than his own life.

  Jack gritted his teeth against the need to protect the only happiness he had ever known. How could he explain why he’d done the things he’d done? “I didn’t initially wish to marry you—I—You see, there were—are other things, deeper things, and my marrying you would have—”

  How in the hell could he tell her about the vow he’d made that day at Badajoz? That he was still haunted by his friend and the life that had been ripped from him?

  And how could he so fully enjoy his life when Dev had never even had a chance at freedom? And there it was. Somehow, loving Regan felt like a betrayal of Devlin. “In part, I married you because I knew how much your grandfather would hate it.”

  “I see,” she said, her voice small.

  Jack looked away. For so long he had forced himself to live in the pain and never let it go. If he could now, he would cut it out like a cancer.

  He forced himself to look back at her and see the pain he was causing her. “But I also married you because I wanted to keep you safe. To be with you every moment of the day.”

  Regan’s lips tightened in an uncertain smile. Her face shone pale in the early afternoon light. “And now?”

  Unable to help himself, Jack caressed her cheek with his fingers and cupped her face with his palm. “I love you. I love you in a way I never thought could be possible. You are my heart.”

  His throat tightened and a vision of Regan lying on the floor of the hospital wing, prone and lifeless, flashed before his eyes. “I have never felt more fear in my life when I thought you might be taken from me.”

  “Jack, I love you. I will not deny it.” She opened her eyes. “But I am afraid that you will never see me as anything but a Chance. I understand why you didn’t wish to marry me—”

  “Shh. No. I d
on’t care that you’re one of them or that you’re his granddaughter. Not anymore. And that was not the reason I hesitated in marrying you.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “I made a promise to someone. I promised that I would do whatever it took to destroy your grandfather.” Jack ran his fingers along Regan’s jaw. “I thought my feelings for you, my marrying you, was a betrayal of his memory. And how could I betray him after we had been through so much together? At the cost of his own, he saved my life, Regan.”

  Regan’s mouth opened and she gently pulled away.

  “You see our love as a betrayal?” she asked softly.

  The image of Devlin, gasping for life as his blood poured from his chest, flashed in his head. Jack swallowed, fighting the tension in his throat. “He died at Badajoz. I caught him before he fell to the ground.” Jack drew in a shaking breath. “There are times I can still hear myself screaming at him not to do it.” A wry smile pulled his lips. “He never did listen.”

  Regan stared up into his face. There was a sad understanding in her eyes. “You loved him very much?”

  “He was my only friend, the only person I could trust.”

  Sighing, Regan brushed her gentle fingertips over his forehead. “And you promised revenge?”

  “My promise is all that has driven me for the last five years. The only thing that’s kept me from slipping into hell.”

  Regan nodded. “I see.”

  After a moment of silence, Regan leaned forward and pressed a gentle kiss to his lips. “The one thing I want is to truly know you. But I’m afraid you won’t let me.”

  Like a sledgehammer hitting against granite, Jack’s heart slammed in his chest. She was not telling him to go to the devil. “I will do whatever it takes to help you know me, even if that means being nothing but your guard.”

  “Then tell me,” she said softly, “his name.”

  “What?”

  “Your friend’s name. I want to know the man who saved your life. Tell me about him.”

  And for the first time that he could ever recall, Jack opened his heart and began to speak of Devlin.