Jack Windrush Collection - Books 1-4

Chapter 1-2

Jack felt his heart beating like the thunder of martial drums. He could see what looked like an official seal on the top document and guessed that it came from the Royals. That would be his ensign"s commission, which would open up his real life. Tomorrow he would catch the mail coach to London to purchase his uniform, and within a couple of weeks he would take ship for his new home; the only real home he would ever know – the Royals.

"Stand still boys," Mrs Windrush commanded and waited for only a second until they obeyed. "With the death of your father, some things need to be said, and some matters must be addressed." She allowed the last word to hang in the air for a few moments, sitting upright in the chair as she slowly pushed the top document to one side and opened the others, one by one. She placed them in a neat row in front of her.

"Now, boys; your father has left me instructions for each of you, but I fear that certain circumstances force me to modify them a little." When she looked directly at him, Jack felt his heartbeat increase further, the drums rattling the charge rather than a quick march. Modify them? What the deuce does that mean? He thought there was something nearly malicious in the glitter of her eyes, a hint of satisfaction that he had witnessed and dreaded on each occasion she had announced he was due for punishment. He jerked his attention back to his mother"s face. She was watching him, and he knew she understood every thought that crossed his mind.

"I will begin with your father"s intentions," Mrs Windrush said and lifted the sheet of paper closest to her. "You, Jack, were due for a commission in the army; in your father"s regiment. William, your father intended that you care for the family estate. You, Adam, were either to enter the army or to pursue a career in law. Neither your father nor I intended that any of you become a gentleman of leisure."

Jack permitted himself a small smile. He could not imagine his mother ever allowing one of her sons, or anybody else in her power, the luxury of leisure.

"However," Mrs Windrush continued, "I have had to make some alterations." Her voice hardened as she lifted the next sheet, looking directly at each of her sons in turn as she proclaimed their fate.

"Jack, you will still enter the army, but not in your famous Royals." She spoke the last word as if it was a curse. "Instead, you will be commissioned into a different regiment." There was triumph in her eyes.

"What? Why is that, Mother, pray?" Jack felt the shock strike like a hammer to his heart. There was only one family regiment; no other held any appeal.

"Kindly permit me to finish." Mrs Windrush chilled him to silence with a single look. He felt all his childhood fears return, although the threat of physical correction was long past. "William, you are now destined for the army. I have ordered the family lawyer to purchase a commission for you in the Royals."

William bowed slightly from the waist, while his eyes flicked sideways to meet Jack"s, before slowly sliding away. "Yes, mother." He accepted the alteration in his fortune so quickly that Jack guessed he had known about the decision in advance.

"Mother!" Jack stepped forward, so he was touching the desk. "How can this be?"

"Silence!" That single word cracked like a huntsman"s whip. "Adam; you will now take over William"s duties in the estate."

With a glance of mixed apology and sympathy to Jack, Adam bowed his acceptance. "Yes, mother."

"Now you may speak, Jack," Mrs Windrush allowed. She leaned back slightly in her chair, placed her elbows on the desk and pressed the fingers of both hands together. Her eyes were unyielding as ice-covered granite.

"Mother, I have to join the Royals. The eldest son has been commissioned into the Royals for two centuries; why should I be in a different regiment while the second son is in the Royals?" He glanced toward William, who stood with an expression of smug foreknowledge that Jack found extremely disturbing.

"You made one valid point there, Jack, and asked one question, but both are intimately connected." Save for the deep grooves around her eyes, Mrs Windrush appeared quite relaxed. "Your point was nearly correct when you said that the eldest son in this family had been commissioned into the Royals for two hundred years. You would have been more accurate to say that the eldest legitimate son has always been commissioned into the Royals."

For a moment, Jack could only stare at his mother. "Legitimate?"

Mrs Windrush"s smile contained only malice. "And in this family, the eldest, or more correctly, the elder, legitimate son is William, who we have indeed commissioned into the Royals."

"But, mother…" Jack was unsure what to say as his world collapsed around him.

"I am not your mother." The smile was tighter now, the gleam of triumph shattering the ice around the granite eyes. "And you are not my son. Your mother was a kitchen maid or some such, and you are merely the by-blow of your father"s youthful indiscretion." The smile broadened as if this woman was, at last, revealing something that she had concealed for many years. "You are an accidental child, Jack, born on the wrong side of the blanket. In short, you are an unwanted little bastard."

A bastard?

A bastard?Jack gasped at the disgrace. Five minutes previously, he had expected an honourable career with the finest line regiment in the British Army. He had thought of himself as the eldest son and the heir of one of England"s most ancient and honourable families, but now he was merely the bastard son of a kitchen maid, and his future lay in utter tatters.

"As a bastard, of course," his stepmother was talking again, relishing the roll of her voice around the dishonourable name, her words controlled but her tone full of justified satisfaction, "as a bastard, you cannot be commissioned into the Royals, or indeed into any decent regiment." She permitted herself a short snort of derision. "No gentleman would agree to serve with you." She paused for a meaningful glance at her elder son. "However, I did promise your father that I would see you commissioned, so I have purchased you a commission as an ensign into one of the few, one of the very few, regiments that would accept you."

Shocked at this downturn in his fortunes, Jack waited, saying nothing. Already he felt something alter within him, and he wanted to give no more satisfaction to this woman who no longer acted like his mother. He felt sick; his legs were shaking so much he grabbed hold of the desk to steady himself.

"Don"t you want to know which distinguished regiment agreed to have you?" That was deliberate cruelty as Mrs Windrush watched him suffer.

"Yes, mother; if you please."

"Don"t call me mother, Jack. With the death of my husband, your father, we have no remaining relationship. Madam would be better, but Mrs Windrush might be acceptable."

"But mother…" Jack saw the slight, sneering smile slide onto his step mother"s mouth and forced himself to stand upright. "My apologies, Madam." Determined to give this suddenly cold stranger as little satisfaction as possible, he gave a formal bow. "I would be obliged if you could inform me of which regiment my father"s money has purchased me a commission."

The smile vanished. Lifting the still-sealed document from the desk, Mrs Windrush threw it contemptuously across to him. "There is your commission, sir. My husband"s money has bought you the necessary uniforms, and my generosity had added a one-off sum of two hundred guineas. That is all. This family has cared for you for the past eighteen years, but this is the last, and very generous, act of kindness we will do for you. From this minute, you are on your own."

Lifting the commission, Jack deliberately didn"t open it. He had to strike back, for if he left like this, with his tail between his legs, he could no longer look in the mirror. "This will be a terrible scandal, of course, once it is known." He allowed the words to hang in the air. He knew there was nothing his step mother dreaded more than a slur on her family name. "People will talk, and your friends will close their doors once they learn how your husband cuckolded you."

He felt his stepmother"s anger as she half rose from her seat. "The scandal will rebound on you," she said softly.

"I have less to lose," Jack reminded. "I am only a dishonourable bastard. But if I had, say, a thousand guineas a year in perpetuity, I would certainly have no reason to speak."

"That"s blackmail." Mrs Windrush sat down again.

Jack lifted the commission. "You have deliberately twisted the promise of my deceased father, which is as dishonourable an act as I can conceive."

"Two hundred guineas a year and you promise never to return."

"Seven hundred and fifty guineas deposited on the first day of February every year and I will never return to Wychwood Manor in your lifetime." Jack faced her across the width of the desk, forcing himself to act with a strength he did not feel. "Do we have a contract?"

"The second you resign your commission or set foot on Windrush land again, your money stops."

"And the first time you fail to pay my money, I will be back."

Rising from her seat, Mrs Windrush pointed to him, her finger trembling in anger. "Show this bastard out of our house, William, if you please. We will not see him again."

"I"ll pack my things first." Jack kept his voice cool-as-you-please. "And take my money. When I have an address, you can send the rest of my belongings along." He gave a slight, mocking bow. "Good day to you, madam, and I hope you can keep your next husband more faithful than your last."

It was a telling parting shot that did nothing to assuage the sick despair that engulfed him.