Part 26 (2/2)

They rounded a corner, and she halted. A large blanket was set with grapes and cheeses, tarts and

crumpets and sweet breads, accompanied by jellies, jams, and marmalade. Devonsgate stood to one side, a napkin hung over one arm.

”Devonsgate! This is lovely!”

”Thank his lords.h.i.+p. It was his idea.”

Fiona turned. ”Jack, thank you.”

The faintest hint of a smile curved his mouth. ”It's nothing. Now, come and eat. You've gotten a bit pale these last few days.”

He settled on the blanket next to her. ”We've had a wild time of it, haven't we? First our marriage, which was not the usual fare. Then we had to adjust to each other. Your brothers did not make things easier, either. Plus the problems with Lucinda and the runaway horse...And now, here we are, attending a wedding.” He picked up a knife and began peeling a pear. ”I don't like weddings.”

”Really? Why not?”

He cut the pear into slices and placed them on a plate. ”Devonsgate, please give her ladys.h.i.+p some juice.”

Devonsgate poured some juice into a winegla.s.s and handed it to Fiona. ”And you, my lord? I daresay

you'll wish for some ale or-” ”No. I will have juice, too.” Devonsgate and Fiona looked at each other in amazement, then Fiona looked at Jack. ”Juice?” He shrugged. ”What's good enough for my son is good enough for me.” Son? He thought she was-She blinked. She kept wondering, yet her mind skittered around the thought as if it were too hot to touch. Silently, she began to add up the weeks. It was possible. Yes, it was possible. Her eyes watered.Was she carrying Jack's child?

”Fiona, drink your juice,” Jack said gently.

She took a convulsive gulp, the liquid tart on her tongue.

”Devonsgate,” Jack said, his gaze never leaving Fiona, ”I believe we have all we need. You may retire to the coach.”

”Thank you, my lord. If you need me I am but a step away.” He bowed deeply, gave the blanket one last critical look, then disappeared up the walk.

Jack sipped his juice, grimaced, but quickly hid it. He set down his gla.s.s, picked up a small plate, and placed an apricot tart on it, along with a wedge of cheese. ”Try these.”

She picked up the tart and nibbled on the edge. She'd donned a white muslin morning gown trimmed with pink rosettes that peeked from between the gap in her cloak. In her hurry to dress, she'd used far too few pins, and her hair was in imminent danger of falling down.

She looked fresh and young, the smattering of freckles dusting her nose so appealing that he was tempted to trace their progress with a kiss.

Fiona bit into a tart. ”Jack, why do you dislike weddings?”

”I find all the trappings and the flowers and such ridiculous.”

”I suppose,” she said slowly. ”But still...” She blushed. ”You may think me silly, but the ceremony itself was beautiful. They really love each other. Jack, sometimes...sometimes, don't you wish things were different between us? That our wedding had been more normal?” She flushed deeply. ”Of course, we wouldn't be together then. But if we had...do you miss that?” She sighed. ”I am making things difficult, aren't I? I am sorry.”

”No, please go on. What did you like about the wedding?”

She looked surprised but pleased. ”The whole thing was lovely-the ceremony, the reception. We didn'

t have that.”

He grinned. ”No, our wedding was quite different. The groom was drunk and unconscious.”

She put down the tart, her cheeks hot and pink. ”I wish you wouldn't remember that.”

Jack laughed. ”I will do my best to forget, though it will be difficult.”

She sighed, and silence filled the s.p.a.ce between them. Jack's flippant remark died on his lips. She was

serious. This meant a lot to her.

”What do you wish our wedding had been like?”

She gave him a quick smile. ”It is silly even to wonder. We had no choice in our marriage, especially you.” ”I am not sorry we married.” The words surprised him, but he knew instantly they were true. Now there was a purpose to his life, a reason for everything.

Her gaze flew to his face.”No?” ”Not at all. Considering everything, I think we've done well.” She pulled up her knees and wrapped her arms around them. ”I think we've done well, too.” He took her hand, noting how small it was in his. ”Fiona, I-” A shot rang out. Jack was on his feet, his pistol in his hand before the echo died. But the thick woods revealed nothing-no movement, no sound. Nothing but an eerie, unnatural silence. ”d.a.m.n them!” His chest pounded with shock. ”Someone must be hunting.” Fiona didn't answer. He turned. A stunned expression on her face, she opened her mouth as if to speak, but no sound came out. He knelt. ”Do not be frightened. When I find-” Blood, rich and red, soaked her pristine white gown. ”No!” he gasped. Her lips quivered. ”I-” Her eyes fluttered, and then, slowly, she fell forward into his arms. Jack caught her, dropping his pistol to the blanket.”Devonsgate! Hamis.h.!.+” Jack's mind thundered with fear. He had to do something to save her! The blood was spreading so fast.

”d.a.m.n it, Devonsgate!”he yelled frantically. ”Fiona! Please, G.o.d, no!” Tears blurred his eyes as he

scooped her into his arms.

A whisper of sound brushed across his ears, then- CRACK!.

Something exploded across his head. He fell, pus.h.i.+ng himself to one side, cus.h.i.+oning Fiona against him.

He fought with all his will to stay conscious, to reach for her again, but thick, black, cold silence

swallowed him whole.

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