Surrender (26 page)

Trevelyan was quiet for a few seconds.. “That is magnanimous of you,” he finally said. “This isn’t casual, is it? She isn’t a passing fancy. You have finally been ensnared.”

Jack flushed. “I am not ensnared. I simply don’t want her hurt. She is an innocent in all of this—I am sick and tired of seeing the innocent pay with their lives, when they have done nothing wrong.”

“You will not be able to leave tomorrow,” Trevelyan said after a long pause. “I imagine you need two or three more days before you can withstand a carriage ride. However, Evelyn can leave, with Aimee.”

Jack clenched his fists, aware of his dismay—which he had to ignore. “That is an excellent idea.”

* * *

E
VELYN
PACED
BACK
and forth repeatedly in the front hall, wondering at the conversation that was taking place upstairs. Oh, how she wished she had eavesdropped! She desperately wanted to know what they were discussing, and she felt certain it was the reason for the attack upon Jack.

She finally heard a movement on the stairs, and she saw Trevelyan coming down—his face set and grim. He paused. “Evelyn? Could you come up to Jack’s room? There is something we wish to discuss with you.”

Her alarm knew no bounds.
Both
men wished to speak to her now? What could they possibly want?

Somehow, she smiled. “Of course.” She hurried to the stairs. “Has something happened?” she asked carefully as he stepped back so she could precede him up. “Your expression is so dire.”

He smiled blandly at her. “Jack wants to speak with you, and I will leave shortly after.”

Evelyn paused to look searchingly at him, but his casual expression never changed. Her alarm increased. She lifted the hem of her burgundy skirt and hurried upstairs, Trev following.

Jack sat on the edge of the bed, now wearing a pair of ill-fitting breeches and an equally shapeless shirt. He held a glass of brandy, but his gray gaze instantly locked with hers. He smiled.

And Evelyn knew a conspiracy was afoot. “Are you all right?”

Jack slowly stood up. “Trevelyan is going to take you and Aimee to your uncle’s.”

She jerked, confused. “I beg your pardon?”

“Trevelyan is leaving, Evelyn. It will soon be dark.” Jack walked over to her and stared down at her. “I want him to take you and Aimee to Robert’s—tonight.”

She gasped, shocked.

“Laurent can bring your bags tomorrow,” Jack added. “So you can leave immediately.”

She was incredulous now. Behind her, Trevelyan said, “I am happy to do so, Evelyn.”

She whirled to look at Trevelyan, who smiled at her. Becoming outraged, she turned back to Jack. “Are you coming with us?”

“No.”

She began to shake, she was so angry. “I did not think so! As you cannot stand up without turning white from the pain! So I am to leave you here, alone, after you were savagely beaten?”

He seized her arm and bit off a gasp. “Evelyn.” Pale now, he continued to hold her. “You cannot live here alone like this. It is simply too dangerous.”

She would have flung him off, except that doing so would hurt him. “I am not leaving you here, alone, which would simply be too dangerous!” She finally turned to face Trev, and Jack let her go. “Why would you agree to this preposterous scheme? Jack is hurt. He can barely defend himself…. He was almost killed.”

Trevelyan regarded her seriously for a long moment. Sorrow flitted through his eyes. “There is always a danger by association, Evelyn. Jack is an outlaw. He has many enemies. They gave him a warning. Next time, they might think to do more—and you would be caught in the middle.”

She was shaking again. “If there is a next time, I mean to be caught in the middle—so I can help him!” she cried fiercely. “Do you both think there is more danger?”

Trevelyan stared, seeming dismayed and saddened. “One never knows,” he said. “Caution is usually a wise course.”

Evelyn hugged herself. She was certain Trev had just realized that she was deeply in love with Jack, and she wished he hadn’t found out as he had, but she was too upset to really care. She finally turned to Jack. “Why do you want me to run away now—are you in danger at the moment? This is my home…. My daughter is here. I must know!”

He hesitated. “I am always in trouble, Evelyn. Danger follows me everywhere—and it found me at the Black Briar. Do I think that tonight, my enemies might appear here? No, I do not. But Trev is right. There is danger by association with me. I should not be here. I should not have come here. And you should not be here, living alone as you do, and that is regardless of what happened to me the other day.”

“I cannot even contemplate returning to my uncle’s while you are here. And before you protest, I am not leaving you alone in this house, not today and not tomorrow.”

His stare was hard, but it was also searching. “Does that mean you would consider leaving Roselynd once I can go, as well?”

She inhaled. What kind of danger was he in? And what about the fact that there was danger for her and Aimee at Roselynd? LeClerc had threatened them! She wished she had told Jack, but if she did so now, she would lose the argument. “Yes, I would consider it—if you went to a safer place, as well.”

Trevelyan broke the silence. “You are very much like a pair of lovers,” he said quietly.

Evelyn tensed, but she did not look at him, her attention unwavering upon Jack. “Would you please go back to bed? You are supposed to be resting,” she finally said.

His gaze was probing, holding hers. He handed her the glass of brandy and moved slowly to the bed. Evelyn rushed to his side, took his arm and helped ease him as he sat. He instantly held his bandaged midsection, his expression somber but steady.

Evelyn stared back as soberly.

“I do not deserve your loyalty,” Jack said slowly. “Evelyn, you should reconsider—for Aimee’s sake.”

God, how he frightened her. “I cannot leave you alone when you are injured,” she whispered. “I just can’t. And you have my loyalty, Jack, deserved or not.” She heard Trevelyan leave, but she did not turn. Jack remained unmoving, too.

She finally folded her arms and forced a smile.

Jack did not smile back.

* * *

E
VELYN
SAT
DOWN
HARD
on the edge of her bed, a hairbrush in hand, absolutely exhausted. Trevelyan had left well before dark, several hours ago, and she had been able to rush downstairs in order to thank him for his concern and say goodbye. He had been so solemn, and he had advised her to leave Roselynd as soon as was possible. Then he had left.

Well, he now knew she was in love with Jack, and he might even have guessed that they had been lovers—she had not mistaken his comment. She was so sorry if she had hurt him. However, his concern aggravated her anxiety.

And she remained amazed that the two men had conspired against her as they had, even if they both thought to protect her.

Jack had gone to sleep in the late afternoon much to her relief. She had looked in on him several times, but he had been unmoving. Rest would help him heal all the more quickly.

She had finally taken a light supper with Aimee and the staff in the kitchens, before the kitchen’s large hearth. And while Bette got Aimee ready for bed, she and Laurent had locked every door and every window, securing the house the best that they could.

It was late now—it was almost eleven. But she was restless and she could not sleep. Were she and Aimee in imminent danger? Was Jack? If only she knew why Jack had been attacked. If only she knew what kind of danger he was in.

He and Trevelyan were right. She should not be living alone with Aimee and three servants on the Bodmin Moor, not now that Henri was dead. Even if she hadn’t overheard that conversation on the island, no widow should live alone this way. She dreaded returning to her uncle’s, but she doubted she had another recourse. Even if she borrowed the funds, rooms in London would be prohibitive.

A footstep sounded in the hallway outside of her door; a floorboard creaked.

Evelyn seized her pistol and leaped up, training it on the open doorway, her heart slamming. Her hand shook and she cursed inwardly, because she could not hold it steady.

Jack moved onto the threshold and froze there.

Her eyes widened; so did his.

“Put the gun down,” he said swiftly.

She did, her knees buckling. “You frightened me!”

“That was not my intention.” His gray eyes flashed. And then he looked directly at her cotton-and-lace nightgown, at her loose flowing hair.

She sank onto the edge of the bed, suddenly filled with tension. Jack was in her
bedroom.

And it was so very late, they were alone and he was clad in those baggy breeches, the borrowed shirt hanging completely open. His abdomen beneath the bandages was flat and hard. She did not dare look lower. “Why aren’t you asleep?” she managed, her mouth dry.

He leaned against the doorjamb, his dark, indolent gaze holding hers. “Why aren’t you?” And his gray eyes moved slowly over her face, over her nightgown, the appraisal so clearly sexual.

Desire arose instantly. It slammed through her like a cyclone. Evelyn slowly stood, breathlessly. “How can I sleep?”

“How can I?” His lashes lowered, hiding the heat in his eyes.

Did he mean to make love to her? He could hardly walk! But why else would he have come? “I cannot sleep because I am so worried about you.” She wet her lips, nervous.

His lashes lifted. “I don’t want you to worry about me,” he said softly. “I don’t want you to have to sleep with a gun.”

She hesitated. “I began sleeping with a gun before you were attacked, Jack. I have always been aware of how isolated this house is.” Of course, she was distorting the truth. She now slept with a pistol because of LeClerc and the threats his crony had made against her.

“I am going to leave tomorrow,” Jack said abruptly. “And you are going to go to your uncle’s.”

“That sounded like a command, one you might give your sailors.”

“Damn it,” he said, soft and harsh at once. “You are an independent thinker—so much like Julianne and Amelia! But this one time can you not take an order and simply obey it?”

She quickly evaded his tangent. “You have not recovered from being beaten. You cannot recover in three days! You can hardly travel anywhere tomorrow!”

He said, “You are in danger now—because of me.”

She became alarmed. “What do you mean to say?”

“I should have never brought you to my island. I should have never taken you to my bed. I have too many enemies, Evelyn. And look at what happened. You overheard my conversation with LeClerc, putting you in a terrible position. And then my enemies attacked me, and I came here—possibly attracting them to Roselynd.”

She stood up, stunned. “You regret the time we spent on Looe Island?’

“Don’t you?”

“No,” she cried, her heart thundering. “No, I do not!”

He slowly shook his head. “I am a selfish bastard, but not as selfish as I appear. I can’t continue to put you and your daughter in danger. I just can’t.”

She was disbelieving. Was he saying goodbye? Did he really mean to travel tomorrow? “We are hardly in any more danger,” she began, and then she stopped. Oh, he was right, wasn’t he? On that single point, he was right, and she could not deny it. She was in danger because she had been on his island, and his enemies might think to follow him to Roselynd.

“I see that you have finally realized that I am right.”

She stiffened. “You cannot possibly travel tomorrow.”

“I can, and I will.” He was final.

If he left tomorrow, he would suffer terribly—and surely set back his recovery. And then what? And how would she survive when she did not know the extent of the danger he was in? She would worry each and every day! “Jack! What did they want? Why did they attack you? Please! I must know!”

“It was only a warning.” He smiled without mirth. “If they wanted me dead, I would be dead now, Evelyn. They took me by surprise and I could not defend myself.”

She cringed. “Then I am grateful it was a warning!”

He studied her very seriously now. “And I am grateful that you have not been harmed. I could not live with myself if you suffered more than you have, and on my account.”

She tensed, thinking of the intruder who had threatened her.

“Evelyn?”

Had he come to genuinely care for her? He certainly acted like a man who cared. And she could not tell him about the intruder now—it would only upset him further. “If it was only a warning, why do you feel that you must rush off tomorrow—when you can barely walk?”

“Because I have so many enemies,” he said flatly. “Any one of whom could decide to pursue me. Our association jeopardizes you.”

She felt her heart lurch with dismay, with fear. “You are worrying me,” she finally said. “We have every right to be friends. It almost sounds as if you wish to completely end our relationship.”

His gaze smoldered. “It wasn’t a dream. You told me that you love me—didn’t you?”

She froze.

He started walking into the room and he did not stop until he had taken her shoulders in his hands. “Will you deny it?” he asked softly.

She slowly shook her head. “No.”

He pulled her close and slid his arms around her. “I am an outlaw, Evelyn. I am a spy. This country is at war—and this war will not end tomorrow. I don’t deserve your loyalty—and I certainly do not deserve your love.”

She began shaking her head in protest. Tears welled. “I don’t care that you are an outlaw—I don’t care that you have been spying for the French!” Except, she did care, she cared greatly. And when he was silent, she realized what was missing—he had not declared any genuine affection for her. She wet her lips and breathed hard. “You asked me why I was so concerned about you. Now, I must ask you the same question.”

“Don’t,” he said as he slid his hands from her shoulders up her neck to her face. “Don’t ask me for what I cannot give.”

She gasped. He refused to admit to any feelings, but surely he had them?

His mouth moved very close to hers. “I will go mad, if I do not make love to you one more time before I go,” he said roughly. “Evelyn, I need you tonight.”