The Lost Duke of Wyndham Page 0,23

circumspect sympathy, so he took his insolence one step further. "Yoo-hoo! Miss Eversleigh! Did you hear me?"

"Of course she heard you," the dowager snapped angrily.

Jack paused, cocking his head as he regarded the dowager. "I thought you were overjoyed to make my acquaintance."

"I am," she bit off.

"Hmmm." He turned to Miss Eversleigh, who had caught up to them during the exchange. "I don't think she sounds overjoyed, Miss Eversleigh. Do you?"

Miss Eversleigh's eyes darted from him to her employer and back before she said, "The dowager duchess is most eager to accept you into her family."

"Well said, Miss Eversleigh," he applauded. "Insightful and yet circumspect." He turned back to the dowager. "I hope you pay her well."

Two red spots appeared on the dowager's cheeks, in such stark relief to the white of her skin that he would have sworn she'd used rouge if he hadn't seen the angry marks appear with his own eyes. "You are dismissed," she ordered, not even looking at Miss Eversleigh.

"I am?" he feigned. "Lovely." He held out his bound wrists. "Would you mind?"

"Not you, her." His grandmother's jaw clenched. "As you well know."

But Jack was not in the mood to be accommodating, and in that moment he did not even care to maintain his usual jocular facade. And so he looked her in the eye, his green meeting her icy, icy blue, and as he spoke, he felt a shiver of deja vu. It was almost as if he were back on the Continent, back in battle, his shoulders straight and his eyes narrowed as he faced down the enemy.

"She stays."

They froze, all three of them, and Jack's eyes did not waver from the dowager's as he continued. "You brought her into this. She will remain through to the end."

He half expected Miss Eversleigh to protest. Hell, any sane person would have run as far as possible from the upcoming confrontation. But she stood utterly still, her arms stick-straight at her sides, her only movement her throat as she swallowed.

"If you want me," he said quietly, "you will take her as well."

The dowager sucked a long, angry breath through her nose and jerked her head to the side. "Grace," she barked, "the crimson drawing room. Now."

Her name was Grace. He turned and looked at her. Her skin was pale and her eyes were wide and assessing.

Grace. He liked it. It fit her.

"Don't you want to know my name?" he called out to the dowager, who was already stalking down the hall.

She stopped and turned, as he knew she would.

"It's John," he announced, enjoying the way the blood drained from her face. "Jack to friends" - he looked at Grace with heavy-lidded seduction in his eyes - "and friends."

He could have sworn he felt her shiver, which delighted him.

"Are we?" he murmured.

Her lips parted a full second before she managed to make a sound. "Are we what?"

"Friends, of course."

"I - I - "

"Will you leave my companion alone!" the dowager barked.

He sighed and shook his head toward Miss Eversleigh. "She's so domineering, don't you think?"

Miss Eversleigh blushed. Truly, it was the prettiest pink he'd ever seen.

"Pity about these bindings," he continued. "We do seem to be caught in a romantic moment, your employer's acidic presence aside, and it would be far easier to drop one exquisite kiss on the back of your hand were I able to lift it with one of mine."

This time he was certain she shivered.

"Or your mouth," he whispered. "I might kiss your mouth."

There was a lovely silence, broken rather rudely by:

"What the devil?"

Miss Eversleigh jumped back a foot or three, and Jack turned to see an extremely angry man striding his way.

"Is this man bothering you, Grace?" he demanded.

She shook her head quickly. "No, no, he's not. But - "

The newcomer turned to Jack with furious blue eyes. Furious blue eyes that rather closely resembled those of the dowager, save for the bags and wrinkles. "Who are you?"

"Who are you?" Jack countered, instantly disliking him.

"I am Wyndham," he shot back. "And you are in my home."

Jack blinked. A cousin. His new family was growing more charming by the second. "Ah. Well, in that case, I am Jack Audley. Formerly of His Majesty's esteemed army, more recently of the dusty road."

"Who are these Audleys?" the dowager demanded, crossing back over. "You are no Audley. It is there in your face. In your nose and chin and in every bloody feature save your eyes, which are quite the wrong color."

"The wrong color?" Jack