Miranda Jarrett - Regency High Society Vol 2 - Sparhawk's Lady / The Earl's Intended Wife / Lord Calthorpe's Promise / The Society Catch

“That woman, Des, that woman’s told me the most amazing thing! She swears that Davy Kerr is still alive, and I’m almost halfway to believing her.”

Desire looked at him sharply. “Whatever are you talking about, Jere? You’re making no sense at all. What woman?” “Caro Moncrief. Lady Byfield. You know, that pretty little countess who tossed me her diamonds.” He sat on the bench beside his sister, resting his hands on his thighs as he stretched his legs out across the grass. “Though I haven’t learned how just yet, she’s come by some sort of paper to the King of Naples that lists prisoners in Tripoli up for ransom, and Davy’s name’s on the list.”

“And you believed her?” asked Desire with dismay. “Oh, Jere, I thought you’d promised not to go near her again!”

“I never promised you anything of the kind, and a good thing, too.” Her lack of excitement disappointed him. Of anyone here in England, he’d expected Desire to be the one who’d understand. “Just as she was explaining it all to me, that same whining little bastard from last night—George Stanhope’s his name—appears on her doorstep, quarrels with her, and when she doesn’t say what he wants, he slaps some sort of smelling spirits over her face and hauls her off in his carriage, just like that! And the worst of it, Des, is that her own people, her butler, who saw the whole thing, are pretending none of it happened.”

“So of course you’ve appointed yourself her savior?”

“I can’t let him get away with kidnapping her, not when she knows about Davy!”

“Or says she does.” She took his hand in hers. “Listen to me, Jeremiah. You can’t let yourself get tangled in Lady Byfield’s affairs. She could have trumped up this whole business about David simply to draw you into her quarrel with George Stanhope. The whole county follows it like a sparring match. It’s been going on for years, all the way back to Frederick’s mother.”

“But Des—”

“No, you listen to me! Most likely Caro learned enough of your past from Jack to appeal to you, and because she can be quite—quite charming, you believe her. Even Jack’s willing to forgive her all manner of impositions, and he’s known her for years.”

“That’s Jack’s folly, not mine. I’m no greenhorn, Desire.” Indignantly he pulled his hand away, folding his arms across his chest. “The woman knew too much about Davy to be cozening me.”

She sighed with exasperation. “Listen to me, you great fool! Even if you manage to separate her from Stanhope, and if she has proof enough that David lives, what then? Go to Tripoli to rescue him, too? Or have you forgotten that America’s at war with the Turks, and that if you’re captured again, this time they’ll make sure they kill you?”

“Oh, aye, and what do I say to Davy’s wife? I’m sorry, Sarah, but I couldn’t go after him from fear of soiling my trouser hems?”

“And what do you say to me, Jeremiah?” demanded Desire. “We’re all that’s left of our family, you and I, and I don’t want you risking your neck because some pretty little chit winks and simpers your way. When I think of how close to death you were when they brought you here—”

Suddenly her voice broke, more emotion than he’d expected spilling over into her words. “I can’t lose you, too, Jere. I can’t. I want you to forget Caro Moncrief and all her foolishness, and I want you to sail for home the way you’ve planned, so I can picture you there in our old house, safe at last.”

She closed her eyes and pressed one hand over her mouth to try to stop the sob that broke through anyway. With her other hand she cradled her belly, striving to calm the child within her, who’d sensed her agitation and grown restless.

“Oh, sweetheart, forgive me,” said Jeremiah, remorse sweeping over him. Awkwardly he slipped his arms around Desire’s shaking shoulders and she buried her face against his chest. She wept from the heart and he let her, patting her back to comfort her as best he could. She was right, they were the last of their family, and he alone understood the depth of the sorrows they’d shared together: the early deaths of both their mother and father, and then, again too soon, that of their younger brother.

The candles and lamps had been lit within the house before she finally grew quiet, and he held her still a little longer to be sure.

“We’d best be off now, Desire,” he said gently. “Jack will be sending out the guard if we don’t go in soon.”

“He’s gone, Jere.” She pushed herself away from him with a final fragmented sob, and took the handkerchief he offered. “He left this afternoon, while you were out.”

“What do you mean he’s gone?”

“What other meaning can there be?” She sniffed loudly, fumbling with the handkerchief as she struggled for her composure. “His orders came for him to rejoin his ship, and by now I expect they’ve cleared Portsmouth to chase after Frenchmen again. He says the Peace of Amiens is nearly done, that this horrid General Bonaparte will break it any day now. Jack’s known for days, but he said he didn’t want to spoil our time together by telling me before he had to.”

Her voice wavered precariously. “He said…he said…oh damn, Jere, I don’t want to cry anymore!”

“Hush now, sweetheart,” he said gently, wishing for something, anything to say to ease her pain, “it will be all right.”

“No, it won’t,” she said bitterly, “not as long as men insist on making war, killing each other for their precious honor, or their king, or some forsaken scrap of land like this wretched Malta. God in heaven, Jere, I don’t even know where Malta is, and for its sake I may lose my husband!”

“Do you know exactly where he’s bound, how long he’ll be gone?”

She stared down at the handkerchief, rolling it tighter and tighter into a soggy ball in her hand. “You know he can’t tell me any of that, Jere. He can’t tell me anything beyond that he’s leaving. Jack’s like that with his orders: the word of the admiralty lords is his almighty God.”

“Then perhaps it’s time he bowed down to something a bit more exalted than his blasted navy.” Although Jeremiah had come to grudgingly respect his brother-in-law as a man, he could never accept Jack for what he represented, the pomp and authority of King George’s Royal Navy, the same navy that had killed Jeremiah and Desire’s father when they’d been little more than children. “How he can abandon you like this, so close to your time—”

“No, Jere, I won’t hear it from you again!” Awkward though she was, Desire rose swiftly to stand before her brother, her hands where her waist used to be. “Jack loves me, Jere. I’ve never once doubted him since we wed, and I never will. He’s a loyal, honorable man, loyal to me and our children and to his country, and I would no more question his right to do what he believes he must than I’d ask you to, oh, quit the sea and become a tinker instead.”

Jeremiah scowled, unable to follow her reasoning. She could preach all she wanted about loyalty, but the fact remained that her husband had left her when she needed him, and as her older brother, the one who’d always protected her, he hated to see her hurt like this. “I’m trying to be serious, and all you can do is make jests about tinkers!”

“And here I thought I was being serious, too.” She rested her hand with the sapphire wedding ring on his arm. “What I’m trying to say, Jeremiah, is that as difficult as it may be, I love Jack enough to let him go. Can’t you understand that?”

“No, sister mine, I cannot. After all the trouble the man went through to win you, he should damned well want to keep by your side!”