Redeeming Jack Read Online Free PDF

opulence of the room and the lingering smell of boiled cabbage threatened to overwhelm him. He had to remind himself to breathe.
    “I brought Mr. Evans in to help us because he not only speaks fluent Welsh but is a church pastor. He is also familiar with the area we intend to search,” the duke said, his sharp gaze moving between the two men.
    Jack smiled despite his surprise at Gareth’s choice of profession. As a young man he’d sworn he would never follow in his father’s footsteps. “He is as familiar with Wales as I am, Your Grace. I’m not sure if Mr. Evans mentioned it, but we were brought up together.” Jack stood and swept a bow in Gareth’s direction. “I also have the honor to be married to Mr. Evan’s sister.”
    Gareth shot to his feet, and Jack steeled himself against the anger he had deliberately provoked. “How
dare
you refer to my sister, you—”
    “Gentlemen, fascinating as this family drama is, may we return to the matter in hand?” the duke asked. “Perhaps you can renew your acquaintance after our discussions.”
    Jack slumped back in his chair and after a tense moment, Gareth followed suit.
    “May I have the documents you collected from Mrs. Forester’s prison cell, Sir Adrian?”
    Sir Adrian passed a pile of strongly perfumed letters tied with a pink bow across the table. The left side of the bundle was scorched with burn marks and smelled of mildew.
    “We assume Mrs. Forester meant to destroy these. Luckily for us, when she threw them on the fire, they smothered the flames.”
    “She had a fire, in prison?” Jack commented.
    A tide of red suffused Sir Adrian’s mottled cheeks. “It seems as if Mrs. Forester found ways to get around her jailer,” he said stiffly.
    “I’ll wager she did.” Jack grinned, and Sir Adrian turned puce. “Did she have a fine feather bed and a maid to air her clothes and style her hair?”
    “It wasn’t quite like that, Llewelyn,” the duke intervened, the annoyance in his voice unmistakable, as was the glare he gave Sir Adrian. “But she certainly did live rather too well.”
    Gareth laughed, a harsh sound in the comfortable room. “You’d not know about being imprisoned, would you, Llewelyn? I seem to remember you fled after our duel to avoid that very fate.”
    For the first time, Jack truly looked at his old friend. Vivid memories of being chained to a stone wall, hand and foot, clawed at his gut. The stifling heat of the room closed in on him and melded into the blackened hell of his prison. He glanced down at his wrists, where his frayed shirt cuffs barely covered the scars left by the unforgiving manacles. “Don’t fret on my account, Evans. I might have escaped prison in England, but I suffered for my sins in a worse purgatory in Spain.” He unconsciously rubbed at his wrist. “And I’ve been imprisoned more than once, which is more than you have, I’ll wager. You seem so respectable now.”
    Something of his experiences must have shown on Jack’s face, because Gareth looked away. Jack’s wrath rose as he watched Gareth’s anger turn to pity and embarrassment. He’d rather face a French artillery regiment than that.
    With a muttered curse, Jack reached out and took one of the letters laid out on the table. He squinted to read the crabbed and cramped handwriting, which crossed the page vertically and horizontally in an effort to save paper.
    “Who is this Rose Edwards, Your Grace? Do you know her, Gareth?”
    Sir Adrian coughed. “We believe Mrs. Edwards is a cousin of Mrs. Forester’s. From the letters, we have deduced that they were close as children and have continued to correspond throughout their lives.”
    Jack ignored Sir Adrian and looked at the duke. “Are the letters in code, Your Grace?”
    “Parts of them are.” He turned to address his remark to the whole table. “My secretary, Michael Waterstone, Mrs. Forester’s son, has translated some of the code for me, although the complete meaning is still