The Price of Pleasure (4 page)

Reed was aware of little that went on around him during the following days. He knew by Fleur’s scent when she appeared at his bedside. But when he tried to bestir himself, his eyes refused to open. Somewhere in his befuddled brain he knew he was being fed laudanum. Sometimes he roused enough to swallow broth, gruel and rich puddings.

Reed always knew when the doctor paid a call, for pain occurred with each visit. But as the days passed, his broken bones began to mend, his mind cleared, and broth and gruel no longer satisfied him. During his lucid moments, he decided to forgo the laudanum the next time it was offered to him. He needed more answers than Fleur had given him, and he wouldn’t get them as long as his mind remained in a fog.

The servant was sitting with him one morning when Reed awakened. After Gaston helped him wash and clean his teeth, Reed asked for something more substantial to eat than his usual fare. He spoke in French, for he’d discovered that Gaston spoke no English.

“I will fetch the countess for you,” Gaston said as he hurried from the chamber.

Once he was alone, Reed levered himself into a sitting position with his uninjured arm and sat at the edge of the bed. When Fleur bustled into the chamber, he hastily covered his loins with the sheet.

Fleur spoke to him in English. “What are you doing? Are you in pain? Do you want more laudanum?”

“No more laudanum,” Reed rasped. “I’m hungry. Now that I know I’m going to live, I need something more substantial than the pap you’ve been feeding me.”

“It was touch and go for a while,” Fleur admitted. “Doctor Defoe said you would know when it’s time for solid food. I’ve been waiting for you to ask. But we can’t overload your stomach with heavy fare for a while yet. Lisette will know what is best for you right now.”

“Lisette,” Reed repeated. “Your cook?”

“My cook, my companion, she is everything to me. She will probably suggest eggs and toasted bread to start. If that stays down, we’ll proceed from there.”

“I need to move around a bit,” Reed said. “If I lie abed much longer, my muscles will atrophy, or what’s left of them,” he added wryly. He held out his good arm and shook his head. “I look like a skeleton. My brother won’t recognize me when I return home.”

He sent her a piercing look. “I
am
returning to England, aren’t I?”

“You are indeed, my lord, but not until you are ready. Your departure will require a great deal of preparation. Lord Porter already knows you’re alive and will inform me when to expect a ship to take you back to England. I’ve made him aware that you’ll need a lengthy recovery period before you can depart.”

“You work for Porter? You’re an English operative?” He tried to smile, revealing a dimple in his right cheek. “So you don’t take men from prison and force them to pleasure you.”

Fleur laughed. “I hardly think you or any of the men I rescue are in any condition to give pleasure.”

“How do you get in touch with Porter?”

“Through my contact here in France. I receive my orders from him. As you have guessed, I am an English operative.”

“Who is your contact?”

“He is known as Andre. I’ve met him only once. It was dark, and I didn’t seem him clearly. My servant Antoine carries messages between us. They meet at a tavern in the village. Andre is the one who recruited me for this mission and provided the bribe money.”

Reed stared at her, able to fully appreciate her beauty for the first time since his rescue. Hints of red in her ebony hair seemed to glow in the sunlight streaming through the window. The slender wings of her eyebrows rose elegantly above a heavy fringe of eyelashes, so thick and luxurious they nearly obscured the golden flecks in her soft brown eyes. Her fair skin was as smooth and delicate as the finest porcelain. By the time his gaze arrived at her full, rose-colored lips, he realized she was staring at him with the same intensity.

Reed cleared his throat. “I need to speak with Andre as soon as possible.”

“He probably can’t tell you much more than I have. The rescue operation in which I am involved demands extreme secrecy. Last names are not used. I don’t even know if Andre is my contact’s real name. It’s what we were told to call him.”

“I know all about secrecy.” Reed snorted. “I was an operative myself, until I was . . . exposed.” Reed thought it best not to mention his betrayal until he knew more about this mission. First and foremost, he needed to regain his strength.

“I’ll go fetch your breakfast,” Fleur said. “As for getting out of bed, we’ll see what Doctor Defoe has to say. He’s coming today to check your arm. He says the bones are knitting nicely.”

“What about clothing? I can’t very well run around in a sheet.”

“You’ll have what you need once you’re well enough to run around,” Fleur said as she sailed out of the room.

Reed watched her trim figure disappear through the door. Though he hadn’t been aware of much these past few days, he always recognized Fleur by her soft touch and her scent. Now that his mind wasn’t clouded by laudanum, he realized she was a rare beauty.

If Fleur was English, what was she doing in France working for Lord Porter and the Foreign Office? Reed frowned. He vaguely recalled Fleur saying her husband had been French.
Her dead husband.
That much he remembered, but there was still a great deal he didn’t know.

Suddenly Reed became aware that he needed to relieve himself. Since neither Antoine nor Gaston was with him, he decided to test his legs. He remembered that the chamber pot sat behind a screen in the corner of the room and rose shakily to his feet. Surprisingly, he was able to stand despite his wobbly knees. He took an experimental step, then another and another, until he was breathing hard from the effort. But he had reached the screen, and that was a triumph in itself.

Reed managed to accomplish his business without help, but when he emerged from behind the screen, he saw Fleur enter the chamber, a tray held gingerly in her hands. It was at that moment he realized he was naked.

They stared at each other, as if frozen in time. Reed knew that physically he was in the worst shape of his life; he didn’t want anyone, particularly an attractive female, looking at him. He made a dash for the bed and its concealing sheet. Unfortunately he didn’t make it. His knees buckled, and he hit the floor.

Fleur set the tray on the bedside table and wagged her head, as if he were a child and not a grown man. “Foolish man. Why didn’t you wait for someone to help you?”

She grasped his good arm and helped him to rise.

“If I let myself be waited on, I’ll never regain my strength.”

Embarrassment raised flags of color on his cheeks. Reed had always been proud of his body. He kept himself in tiptop shape, exercising his muscles and toning his body by fencing, boxing and other outdoor activities. In England he had been known as something of a rogue and ladies’ man. But now he wondered if he would ever be able to bare his body to a woman again.

Fortunately Fleur seemed not to notice his embarrassment, for her expression remained concerned but dispassionate as she helped him sit on the edge of the bed and cover himself with the sheet.

“Are you ready to eat?” she asked brightly.

“More than ready; I’m starving,” Reed admitted.

Fleur pulled the napkin off the tray, revealing a fluffy omelet, thick slices of fresh bread and butter, and a pot of tea. “If you’re still hungry after this, Lisette will make you another omelet.”

Reed’s mouth began to water, and he forgot all about his embarrassment. “This is a veritable feast, Countess.”

Fleur looked furtively behind her, even though she knew no one was listening. “Royalty does not exist in France today. I’m merely a citizen, my lord. Please call me Fleur. Anything else is too dangerous.”

“Forgive me, Fleur. Though I’ve been out of contact with the world these past few months, I should have known better. Can you trust your servants and the good doctor?”

“They are the only ones I
can
trust. Your presence cannot be known outside this cottage.”

“What about Lucien, the guard at Devil’s Chateau? He knows.”

“If it became known that Lucien accepted a bribe to release you to my care, he would be a dead man. Lucien will say nothing, though there will be a new grave in the cemetery outside the gates. Lucien’s superiors will be told it’s your final resting place. I’m sure no questions will be asked.”

Reed picked up the fork and dug into his omelet. The delicate herbs tempted his taste buds, awakening the appetite that had been sadly deprived in Devil’s Chateau. He closed his eyes and swallowed, savoring every bite. The bread was light and fluffy; the freshly churned butter tasted like heaven. In minutes his plate was clean and he was licking butter from his fingers.

“That tasted like manna from heaven,” Reed sighed. “I can hardly wait to sample more of Lisette’s cooking.”

“Would you like more?”

Reed hesitated. He could probably eat three times the amount he had just consumed but didn’t know if his stomach could handle it. “Perhaps I should wait for lunch. Overloading my stomach might not be a good idea.”

Fleur nodded. “Rest now, I’ll bring the doctor up as soon as he arrives.” Reed lay back against the pillows. When Fleur started to withdraw, he reached out and grabbed her arm, surprised that he still had sufficient strength to restrain her.

“Wait! There’s something you’re not telling me, isn’t there? Why was I chosen from amongst dozens of deserving men in Devil’s Chateau? Why was I singled out and taken from the prison while others were left behind?”

“You’ve had enough excitement for now. I’ll explain after the doctor has come. Meanwhile, I’ll find some clothing for you.”

Reed released her arm, loath to lose contact with his lovely savior. Moments later, his eyes fluttered shut and he slept.

Fleur didn’t leave immediately. She lingered awhile to watch Reed sleep. She thought he looked better, that his face had a bit more color. His incredible silver eyes had lost the hollow, half-starved look, though his face was still gaunt and his skin pulled taut across his cheekbones. Since the omelet seemed to have agreed with him, she would make sure he was fed more hearty food at lunch. He definitely needed more meat on his lanky frame.

For some reason, Fleur couldn’t make herself leave Reed’s bedside. He fascinated her. His face hinted at something dark and dangerous. She knew intuitively that he could be ruthless when the situation warranted and she pitied his enemies. But when he flashed that dimple, she could well imagine his appeal to women.

Fleur hadn’t found another man so interesting since her husband’s death, and she wondered what attracted her to Reed Harwood. She knew he was the kind of man who attracted women. Before his imprisonment they had probably fallen all over him. She’d seen his kind, had been pursued by them before marrying Pierre.

Sighing, Fleur picked up the tray and left Reed’s bedchamber. When she reached the kitchen, Lisette eyed the empty dishes and smiled.

“How did his lordship like the omelet?” she asked.

Fleur set the tray on the table. “He enjoyed it very much. I think he’s ready for something more substantial. He’s eager to regain his strength. He tried to use the chamber pot by himself, but didn’t quite make it back to bed. I don’t think I’ve ever seen a man blush like he did when I saw him lying naked on the floor. I believe the pitiful state of his body embarrassed him.”

“I wouldn’t doubt it,” Lisette replied. “Our guest seems like a proud man. He wouldn’t want you or any woman seeing him the way he is now.”

“He asked for clothing. I’m going to find Antoine and see what’s available.”

By the time Fleur found Antoine and explained her needs, Doctor Defoe had arrived. Fleur followed him to the sickroom, where Reed appeared to be sleeping soundly.

“Shall I wake him,
madame?
” Defoe asked.

Reed opened his eyes. “I’m awake, Doctor.”

The doctor nodded. “Let’s have a look at that arm. Does it pain you?”

“Not as much as it did.”

“It is healing well,” Defoe declared with a great deal of satisfaction. “The splints can come off next week, if you promise to keep the arm immobilized in a sling while it finishes healing. Fortunately the break was a simple one.”

“Thank you, Doctor. When can I leave the bed and move around?”

“Whenever you feel strong enough,” Defoe replied.

Reed smiled, his skin stretching tight over his cheekbones. “I am ready.”

Defoe tapped his chin, then addressed Fleur. “I believe solid food is in order for our patient,
madame.
He needs to regain some of the weight he’s lost.”

“My thoughts exactly, Doctor,” Fleur said. “Lisette prepared him an omelet this morning, and it seems to have agreed with him. His appetite is returning, which is always a favorable sign.”

“Indeed it is. There is little more for me to do here, unless there is a sudden change in his condition.” He examined Reed’s bound ribs. “His ribs are knitting nicely, and the bruises are fading. The bandages can be removed when he feels comfortable without them.”

Reed heaved a sigh of relief. “The sooner I can move about freely, the sooner I can regain my strength.”