Surrender (37 page)

The truth was, he wanted to be a free man again—he wanted that
damned bounty gone. He wanted to go to London and visit his sisters and their
children whenever he felt like it. He wanted to come and go at Cavendish Square,
where his brother so often resided, as anybody else could. He even wanted to
return to Greystone Manor, his family’s home, so he could restore it to the
glory it had once enjoyed centuries ago.

Generations of Greystone men and women had been smugglers, of
course. The manor had been built above Sennen Cove long ago, because it was the
perfect location from which to smuggle goods between Britain and France. It
remained an ideal haven now.

He might be done with spying, but smuggling was his life. He
could no more give up the free trade and his life at sea than he could give up
Evelyn. If he became a free man, would Evelyn really wish to remain with him?
Would she be willing to embark upon a future together? Would she consider
becoming a smuggler’s wife?

His heart was thundering. He missed her desperately and had a
terrible need to be with her now, to hold her, make love to her and forget the
hell of war. Jack walked over to the small wood box that was on top of the
bedroom bureau. He flipped open the lid. The ruby necklace Evelyn had given him
to pay for her passage from France, four years earlier, was inside.

He had never sold it. He had buried it along with some other
valuables in one of the caves used by generations of Greystone smugglers behind
the cliffs at Greystone Manor. At the time, he hadn’t thought much about it, he
had simply stashed the valuable necklace away. Now, in hindsight, he knew he
hadn’t sold the necklace because he had been so smitten with Evelyn from the
very start.

It had taken him an extra day to sail to Sennen Cove to
retrieve it, another day to return to Looe Island. He hoped Evelyn would
comprehend the gesture when he returned the necklace to her. He hoped she would
be thrilled when he brought it to her—when she realized he hadn’t ever been able
to part with it.

Jack slowly closed the lid. Evelyn was a very intelligent
woman. She knew she could do far better than him. And she had Aimee to think of.
She loved him, but he did not know if she would accept his suit.

He intended to do whatever he had to in order to convince her
to become his wife.

* * *

E
VELYN
PAUSED
BEFORE
climbing into the Bedford coach, with Aimee,
Julianne and Jacquelyn, and the two children’s maids behind her. Today, Julianne
had decided they would take the children for a picnic in the park, skipping
their reading and arithmetic lessons. Amelia was meeting them in Hyde Park with
Will, John, her tiny stepdaughter, Lucille, and baby Hal.

It promised to be a wonderful afternoon. But Evelyn did not
want to go. She did not think she could feign another moment of happiness. A
list of survivors had been posted at the Admiralty, and she happened to know
that Jack’s name was not on that list. Now, she was waiting for her
brothers-in-law to obtain highly classified information—a list of the British
prisoners languishing in France.

She realized a small carriage drawn by a single bay horse had
turned into the drive. It was obviously a hired hansom.

“Dom must have a caller,” Julianne said brightly. “Aimee,
Jackie, do get in, or we will be starting our picnic at suppertime!”

Evelyn realized she was paralyzed, staring at the approaching
vehicle. It was an open carriage, and a gentleman sat in the back, in a dark
jacket and hat. She could not take her eyes off of him.

The gentleman was tall, dark, elegantly clothed, but as he
stood to get out, she saw his golden hair beneath the black felt bicorn hat. And
he was staring intently—relentlessly—at her.

It was Jack.

And Evelyn knew there had to be a mistake. She must be staring
at Lucas. Jack would not drive through town in an open vehicle, or so casually
appear at the house in the broad light of day!

He jumped down from the carriage, never taking his gaze from
her.

She was not mistaken! “Jack!” she gasped.

He strode to her with long, hard, determined strides and pulled
her into his arms, kissing her fully on the mouth, deeply, with heat.

Evelyn began to cry. She held on to him, hard, as he kissed her
again and again.

And finally, he ended the kiss. “Hello, Evelyn.” He was
hoarse—and his eyes glistened.

She clasped his face in her hands. “You are alive! You are
home!” But her vision was blurred with tears.

“I am alive....” He smiled now. “I am home.” He put his arm
around her and pulled her to his side and smiled at his sister.

Julianne ran to him and hugged him, then cried, “Why are you
standing in my driveway like this?”

“Surely we must rush inside?” Evelyn asked. But as she met his
gray gaze, as she saw the softness in his eyes, so much hope began. What was
happening? Jack would never be standing outside like this as an outlaw!

“We do not have to rush anywhere.” He now turned and smiled at
Aimee. “Hello, Aimee. Have you been enjoying your stay in town?”

Aimee smiled bashfully, nodding.

Julianne stepped forward. “Why don’t you go inside with Evelyn,
Jack, and I will take the children to the park, as planned.” Then her gaze
became direct. “I am so glad you are safe—and home.”

He smiled at her. “So am I.”

Evelyn realized she was shocked and dazed, her heart
thundering, her mind nearly shut down. She hurried to Aimee. “Would you mind if
I stayed behind today? Aimee, I have so much to discuss with Mr. Greystone.”

Aimee was solemn. “I don’t mind, Mama. I know you love
him.”

Evelyn started, genuinely surprised. “Have I been so
obvious?”

Aimee smiled. “He is so handsome…and I like him, too.”

Evelyn hugged her, and then helped her into the carriage. She
was acutely aware of Jack standing behind her, and now, she had a hundred
questions! The driver carried his baggage past them, as Julianne was the last to
get into the coach.

Evelyn seized her hand, suddenly near tears. “He is home.”

Julianne was also misty-eyed. She smiled and kissed her cheek.
“He is home and I am so happy for you both!”

Evelyn stepped back as the footman closed the door. Instantly,
Jack took her hand.

She turned and behind them, the Bedford coach pulled away. “Is
this a dream?”

“No, it is not.”

“Jack! What has happened? You never use the front door!”

He began to smile, a smile she had never before seen. “The
bounty has been removed, Evelyn. I am a free man.”

She cried out, thrilled. Putting his arm around her, he walked
her into the house. “You are free,” Evelyn whispered. “Oh, God, I had hoped that
one day you might be a free man—but I never dreamed it would happen so soon—like
this!”

“We have Admiral Hood to thank,” Jack said softly as the
doormen closed the front door behind them. “There is more. He has recommended a
medal of honor for me. Next month, I am to be knighted.”

Evelyn realized she held both of his hands in hers. “You are to
be recognized as the hero you truly are!”

“Yes.” He swept her suddenly into his arms, holding her tightly
against his strong body. “I have missed you terribly.” He was rough. “When I was
in prison, my greatest fear was that I would never hold you again.”

Tears came. “Jack, I have missed you, too. I have been living
in a state of terror—I was afraid you were dead!”

“I had no plan to die—because that would mean leaving you.”

She basked in his burning gaze. And Evelyn had no doubt then
about the depth of his love for her. No words could be as romantic. “We have so
much to discuss,” she began, thinking of his child, which she carried.

“Later!” He lifted her into his arms—both doormen gaping—and
started for the stairs. Evelyn touched his beautiful face, having no desire to
protest. Upstairs, he kicked open the door to her bedroom, closed it, carried
her to the bed and laid her down on it. And as he shrugged off his jacket,
Evelyn saw dark, terrible shadows flitting through his eyes. Jack was so adept
at hiding his feelings, but then, his expression was utterly ravaged.

She knew the war had scarred him.

And a moment later he was joining her in that bed. “I need
you,” he said thickly. “But I love you—so do not think I am a terrible cad.”

She touched his face, exhilarated—he had finally declared
himself! “I would never think such a thing.”

He did not answer, claiming her mouth, his kiss so hard and
deep, it was almost hurtful. Evelyn barely knew what happened next. She threw
her arms around him, realizing that he was terribly wounded by his adventures in
France, as never before, while he kicked off his breeches and lifted her skirts.
“I love you,” he said again, his tone thick and desperate.

Evelyn held him hard, as he kissed her and touched her, fanning
not just her desire, but also her love. A moment later, they were joined.

And she looked up at him as they made love and realized he was
crying. “Don’t,” she gasped.

He smiled through his tears. “Don’t what? Don’t do…this?”

She gasped, and suddenly she was shattering, and she could not
stand it—the love, the desire and the ecstasy were simply too powerful—and she
wept, as well. He cried out, holding her tightly, his cheeks damp with
tears.

And as Evelyn floated back to reality, she began to caress him.
She kissed his temple. “What happened in France, Jack?”

He studied her. “You do not want to know.”

She hugged him. “I am sorry.” She could not imagine the horrors
he had been through, but she would help him heal from the wounds of war now.
“Maybe, one day, you will tell me what happened. But if you do not, I will
respect that choice. No matter what, I will always be here for you.”

He sat up, looked around and found his breeches at the bottom
of the bed. As he put them on, Evelyn rearranged her skirts and underclothes.
She finished and found Jack standing by the bed, staring intently at her.
“Always?” he said.

Her heart hammered. “Yes, always.” What was he thinking?

“Let’s go back downstairs. I have something for you.”

Evelyn was puzzled, but she gave him her hand and got up. While
she fixed her hair, he finished dressing. He then took her hand again, smiling,
and did not let her go as they went back downstairs. Jack went to his valise and
opened it, removing a small, gleaming wood box.

It was the kind of box a lady used to store jewelry. She looked
at Jack, and he handed her the small box. “This is for you, Evelyn.”

Her heart thundered. She could not imagine what was inside, as
it was not a velvet gift box. She opened it and gasped as her ruby-and-diamond
necklace winked up at her. “What is this?”

“I hope you are pleased,” he murmured.

Evelyn bit back another gasp. Jack had never sold the ruby
necklace she had given him for her passage from France!

“I could not part with the jewels.”

She began shaking her head wildly. “Oh, how you pretended to be
so indifferent to me! Oh, how you claimed to be a cold mercenary!”

He took her hand again. “I am somewhat mercenary. But I was
never indifferent to you.”

Her heart turned over, hard. “Jack, are you saying that you
were taken with me from the moment we first met?”

“Yes, that is what I am saying.”

She inhaled. “You hid it so well!”

“I fought my every feeling for you. I was a fool, Evelyn.” He
tugged her into his arms. “I buried it at Greystone Manor, otherwise, I would
have returned it to you sooner.”

She felt like blurting out that she loved him—insanely. “Jack,
we are even. I was smitten, too, from that very first night.”

He slowly smiled, pleased. “Were you?”

“I think I fell in love with you then.”

His smile grew. “You are giving me hope!”

What did that mean? she wondered. “I have begged God a thousand
times to keep you safe and out of all harm, Jack. That is all I care about. I am
so glad you are home. And you are free!”

He cupped her shoulders, his expression so solemn and serious.
“I have had a great deal of time to think. I have few regrets in my life, but I
do regret resisting my feelings for you—and I regret making you my
mistress.”

Evelyn started. “Surely you do not regret the time we have
spent together?’

“Selfishly, I do not. But then, you do know I am a selfish
man?” His gaze pierced hers.

“You are the most selfless man I know!”

“I am a smuggler, Evelyn, a rogue. I am a man who is accustomed
to getting what he wants.”

“You are a hero! And you are being knighted—which proves it!”
she cried. “Sir Jack Greystone,” she added.

“Evelyn, I want you.”

She froze. Excitement began. “I do not comprehend you, Jack.
You have me already.”

“You deserve so much more than life as a smuggler’s
mistress.”

Was he going to propose? No, it was impossible; Jack was an
adventurer, not a marrying man!

He gave her an odd look, and then paced around her slowly. She
had to turn to watch him. “You are young and beautiful, and you can have more
children—and I imagine you want more children. You deserve to be someone’s
wife.” He paused, facing her. “You could have a queue of suitors lined up,
Evelyn, beginning with Trevelyan and D’Archand.”

She was confused, but not alarmed. And what should she say? She
wanted to be his wife! And they would soon have a child together! “Of course I
would like more children. But I do not want a queue of suitors. I do not want
Trev or the count!”

He hesitated. Suddenly he appeared uncertain. “Evelyn. I am
trying to ask you if you will condescend to be my wife.” But his gaze was
stunning in its intensity.

She cried out as her heart slammed. “Did I hear you correctly?
Did you just propose?”