Page 86 of Captain Jack’s Woman

Later, he moved off her, drawing her about so she lay curled with her back to him. He settled his larger body around hers and immediately fell deeply asleep.

Snuggled beneath a heavy arm and halfway to sleep herself, Kit grimaced. Marriage to Lord Hendon had changed nothing. When it came to smuggling, he was Captain Jack. And Captain Jack kept his own counsel.

Chapter 26

Why wouldn’t he tell her? Kit cantered up the Gresham’s drive with that refrain ringing in her ears. She’d not seen her aggravating husband since dawn, when, after exhausting her thoroughly, he’d carried her back to her bed. She vaguely recalled him saying something about inspecting his coverts. She wasn’t deceived. He’d purposely found some activity to keep him out all day so she couldn’t pursue her questions. Doubtless, he thought time would blunt her curiosity.

With a snort, Kit slid from the saddle without waiting for the assistance of her groom. “Is the family in, Jeffries?”

“Lord Gresham’s off to Lynn, miss—I mean, your ladyship.” Jeffries smiled as he took her bridle. “Lady Gresham took the carriage out an hour ago. But Miss Amy’s inside.”

“Good!” Kit stalked to the house and entered by the morning room windows.

Amy was there, idly plying her needle. She jumped up as soon as she saw Kit. “Oh, good. Mama’s gone to Lady Dersingham’s. Now we can talk.” Then Amy noticed Kit’s high color and the brisk way she stripped off her gloves. Her eyes widened. “What’s the matter?”

“That damned husband of mine’s as close as an oyster!” Kit flung her gloves onto a table and fell to pacing the room, her long swinging strides more suited to Young Kit than Lady Hendon.

“What do you mean?” Frowning, Amy sank back onto the chaise.

Kit glanced her way. Amy knew nothing of her husband’s alias but the need to unburden herself was strong. “What do you think of a gentleman who refuses to tell his wife,” Kit paused, searching for words, “the details of a transaction he’s involved in, when he knows she’s interested and it would not be a…a breach of confidence or any such thing?”

Amy blinked. “Why do you want to know about Jonathon’s business?”

The simple question sent Kit’s temper into orbit. With a frustrated growl, she went about the room again, struggling for calm. Why did she want to know what Jack was up to? Because she did. While she’d been Young Kit and he Captain Jack, she’d felt a part of his adventures. She couldn’t—wouldn’t—accept that being his wife meant she had to remain distanced from what affected him most nearly. Besides which, if she knew what he was up to, she was sure she could help.

She stopped in front of Amy. “Let’s just say that not knowing is driving me crazy. Besides which,” she added, kicking her skirts out of the way to pace again, “there are reasons of…of honor which say he should tell me. If he had any gentlemanly instincts, he would.”

Amy looked stunned—and thoroughly confused. “Do you mean that Jonathon’s not truly the gentleman?”

It was Kit’s turn to blink. “Of course not!” She frowned at Amy. “That wasn’t what I meant.”

Amy eyed Kit with affectionate understanding and patted the chaise. “Do sit down, Kit—you’re making me dizzy. Now tell me—is it really as exciting as they say?”

The point of the question missed Kit entirely. She dropped into a chair opposite Amy and frowned. “Is what so exciting?”

“You know.” Amy’s slight blush jolted Kit’s mind into the right rut.

“Oh, that.” Kit waved dismissively, then abruptly changed her mind. She wagged a knowledgeable finger at Amy. “You know, you didn’t have the half of it when you told me all that stuff about getting hot and wet.”

“Oh?” Amy sat straighter.

“No,” Kit affirmed. “It’s much worse than that.”

When Kit fell into a reverie and said nothing further, Amy glared. “Kit! You can’t just stop there. I told you all I know—now it’s your turn. I’m marrying George next month. It’s your duty to tell me so I’ll know what to expect.”

Kit considered; she decided her vocabulary wasn’t up to it. “Do you mean to tell me your George hasn’t gone beyond a kiss and a fondle?”

“Of course not.” Amy’s expression held more disgruntled disgust than shock. “Jonathon didn’t go any farther with you before your marriage, did he?”

Kit’s eyes glazed. “Our relationship didn’t develop along quite the same lines as yours and George’s.” Her voice sounded strangled. Memories of how far Jack had gone threatened to overcome her. Even if she gave Amy an edited version, it would shock her to the core. “I’m sorry, Amy, but I can’t explain. Why don’t you press George for further details? Here he comes now.”

Through the morning room windows she could see George striding up from the stables. He reached the windows and checked at the sight of her. Then, smoothly, he entered and greeted Amy, bowing over her hand before raising it to his lips.

Watching closely, Kit noted the glow that infused Amy’s face and the brightness in her eyes. When his eyes met Amy’s, George’s face softened; as his lips brushed Amy’s fingers, his eyes remained on hers. The warm affection in his gaze was fully returned by Amy. Kit felt uncomfortably de trop.

Releasing Amy with understated reluctance, George turned to Kit and took her hand in greeting. “Kit.”

She returned his nod graciously. They’d met only twice since she’d dropped the guise of Young Kit—once at the wedding, once at their belated betrothal dinner. She’d always had the distinct impression that George disapproved of her wild ways far more strongly than Jack did. “Amy and I were discussing the merits of a husband being open with his wife.” Kit kept her gaze innocent and unthreatening. “Perhaps, in the interests of a well-rounded argument, you could give us your views on the matter.”