Page 99 of Captain Jack’s Woman

Julian beamed. “May I use your curricle?”

Geoffrey’s sigh was heartfelt. “If I find a scratch on it, you’ll be painting it with your eyelashes.”

Julian whooped.

Geoffrey raised his brows. “You wouldn’t think he shaves yet, would you?”

Kit giggled.

Geoffrey smiled. “That’s better. I’d started to wonder if you’d forgotten how.”

“Oh, Geoffrey.” Kit put out a hand to clasp his.

Geoffrey gripped her fingers. “Yes, well, I suggest you leave as soon as possible. You should be able to make it by nightfall if Julian keeps a proper eye on the cattle. It sounds as if Jenny will be able to put you both up.”

Her immediate future decided, Kit poured herself another cup of coffee. She didn’t want to go to Southampton. It was too far away from Castle Hendon. But she had to agree with Geoffrey’s reasoning. Jack wouldn’t be pleased to find her frequenting a bachelors’ residence. And she would enjoy seeing Jenny again. Perhaps catching up with her old mentor would distract her from the problems of her new role.

Jack woke on Friday morning feeling thoroughly disgruntled. He lay on his back and stared at the ceiling, his eyes devoid of expression. Life, full to brimming but short days before, had taken on a greyish hue.

He missed his wife.

Not only did he miss her, he couldn’t seem to function, knowing she wasn’t here, where she belonged. He couldn’t sleep; he couldn’t recall what he’d eaten for the last three days. His faculties were enmeshed in a constant retreading of their last encounters, of the opportunities he’d missed to read her mind and head off her startling, but characteristic action.

It had been a mistake to leave her at Cranmer Hall. He saw that now. But he hadn’t known then how much the thought of her would prey on his mind.

With a half groan, he pushed back the covers and hauled himself upright. Without more ado, he’d rectify his error. He’d ridden in from London late the previous night, his hope that Kit might have reassessed her objectives and returned home dashed by the sight of her empty bed. His empty bed had proved even less inspiring.

He dressed with unusual care, choosing a morning coat of simple elegance, determined to impress his wife with every facet of his personality. He knew exactly what he’d do. After greeting her coolly, he’d insist on seeing her alone. Then, he’d explain to her why her action in leaving him was unacceptable behavior in Lady Hendon, why no circumstance on earth could excuse her absence from the safety of his hearth. Then he’d kiss the damned woman witless and bring her home. Simple.

He grabbed a cup of coffee and ordered Champion brought around.

* * *

“If she’s not here, where the devil is she?” Jack ran an agitated hand through his hair, dragging golden strands loose to fly in wisps about his haggard face. He paced the Gresham’s morning room like a caged and wounded tiger.

Amy watched him, sheer amazement in her face.

“Perhaps, my dear, you should get us some refreshment.” George smiled reassuringly into Amy’s eyes. Drawing her to her feet, he steered her to the door and held it for her.

Once Amy had escaped, George shut the door and fixed Jack with a stern eye. “I told you not to leave Kit alone.” His voice held a note of decided censure. “And if you left without explaining what was going on, I’m not surprised she’s left you.”

Jack paused to stare at him.

George grimaced and rummaged in his coat pocket. “Here,” he said, holding out the note Kit had sent him. “I’d hoped I wouldn’t need to show you this, but obviously your wife knows your stubbornness even better than I.”

Puzzled, Jack took the note and smoothed it out.

“Read the last sentence,” said George helpfully.

Jack did. I feel sure that you, being so much more in Jack’s confidence, will know better than I how to proceed. Crushing the note in his hand, Jack swore. “How the hell was I supposed to know she felt that strongly over it?” He glared at George.

George was unimpressed. “You knew damn well she wanted to know. Dash it—she deserved to know, after what she did that night on the beach. And as for her recent efforts in the cause—all I can say is she’s been damned understanding.”

Jack was taken aback. “You don’t even approve of her!”

“I know. She’s wild beyond excuse. But that doesn’t excuse you.”

Hands on his hips, his eyes narrowed and smoky grey, Jack glared at George. “You’re not going to tell me you’ve told Amy of our mission?”