Reese's Bride (17 page)

“I don’t mean to interfere in your business, Mr. Montague,” Elizabeth said, noticing how pale Jared had grown. “But it seems to me that Mr. Gillespie
did
do his job. He fought the man and rescued my son.” She flicked the guard a glance, caught the regret and determination in his face. “I believe if you let him remain, he will do everything in his power to keep Jared safe.”

Jared and Sean Gillespie were becoming fast friends and since Jared rarely trusted adults, she was hoping that friendship might continue.

“What happened to the man?” Reese asked Gillespie.

“Got away, milord.” He rubbed his jaw, where a purple
bruise was beginning to form. “I was more interested in gettin’ the boy to safety. You let me stay, I’ll see nothin’ happens to ’im. Ye have me word on that.”

“Mr. Montague?” Reese asked, looking to Morgan’s head of security for the final word.

“Gillespie’s always been one of our best. I suppose a man’s entitled to one mistake—long as it doesn’t happen again.”

“No, sir, Mr. Montague, it won’t.”

“Your men are searching for the attacker?”

“Aye, but odds are they won’t find him. He likely had his escape route well planned.”

A muscle flexed in Reese’s jaw. “Hire a couple of extra men to patrol the perimeter. I don’t want any more intruders.”

“Aye, sir,” Montague agreed.

Reese took a calming breath, reached down and took hold of Jared’s hand. “Come on, son. I’ve got something to show you.”

As the security men returned to their duties, Reese tugged Jared along the corridor toward the library. Elizabeth fell in behind them, not ready yet to let her son out of her sight.

She had been wrong about her-brother-in-law. Mason wanted Jared’s inheritance and he would go to any length to get it. A shudder rippled through her. Dear God, if she hadn’t married Edmund, her son would not now be in danger.

She released a deep breath as she reached the open library door and peered inside. Reese had set Jared on the edge of the table he was using as a desk and handed him the gift he had purchased in Bond Street.

The little boy hurriedly pulled the blue ribbon and opened the box, carefully parted the tissue and peeked inside.

“Go ahead, take it out,” Reese urged.

Jared reached a small hand into the box and pulled out the crystal unicorn. It glinted in the sunshine streaming in through the high paned windows.

Jared’s eyes widened. “Oh, he is grand, my lord! The most beautiful horse I have ever seen!”

Reese smiled with pleasure and Elizabeth’s heart squeezed. The older Jared got, the more she noticed the similarities between father and son. She ached to tell Reese the child was his. If only she had the courage.

She wondered if Reese would come to her bed tonight and if he did, if she could summon the courage she had found last night or if memories of Edmund would return to haunt her.

“Thank you, ever so much,” Jared said. “It is such a marvelous present.”

Reese ruffled the little boy’s dark hair and set him on his feet. “From now on, you stay close to Mr. Gillespie, all right?”

“Yes, sir, I will.” Jared looked down at the crystal unicorn. “I am going to name him Rainbow. For all the colors that sparkle inside him.”

Reese smiled. “
Rainbow
…that’s a very good name.”

“Is it all right if I go and show Charlie?”

“As long as you take Mr. Gillespie with you.”

Jared nodded, turned and raced out of the library. He ran past Elizabeth without even noticing she was there.

“You were wonderful with him,” she said as she made her way into the library. “Thank you, Reese.”

“He’s a good boy. I’m sorry about what happened today. I’ll speak to the men, make sure they keep a closer watch on him.” His jaw hardened. “Holloway has gone too far. I’m not about to let him harm my family. I intend to make him understand that.”

“How do we stop him, Reese? Mason is determined to become earl. He’ll always be a threat. How do we keep Jared safe?”

“If Gillespie had been able to bring down Jared’s attacker, we would have had something to take to the authorities. As it is, I’m going to make an official report. I’m also going to report the shooting that occurred at Briarwood and the suspicion that you were being drugged.”

“None of it proves Mason and Frances are involved.”

“I know. If I had my way, I’d shoot the bastard and be done with it, but that would still leave Frances to deal with and I have a feeling she’s as ruthless as her husband.”

“Worse.” Elizabeth walked toward him and he drew her into his arms. “I’m frightened, Reese. Frightened for Jared.”

His hold tightened around her. “In time, we’ll find a way out of this. Until that happens, we’ll keep him safe.”

Trusting him to do everything in his power to keep his word, Elizabeth looked up at him. With his dark skin and brilliant blue eyes, he was unbearably handsome. Her heart began beating overly fast and her breath seemed to stall. Neither of them moved. In the next instant, he was kissing her, softly at first, then more deeply.

A flame began to burn inside her, spreading out through her limbs. Her body softened against him and her fingers curled into the lapels of his coat.

“Do you know how much I want you?” he whispered as he kissed the side of her neck.

She knew. She could feel his heavy arousal even through her skirts, demanding and at the same time, promising.

“I want to have you a dozen different ways,” he said, “but I’m not going to rush you.”

Elizabeth’s pulse kicked up. Last night, after her fear had receded, their lovemaking had been wonderful.

And yet she remained uncertain. The old fears lurked just beneath the surface. She had no notion what small thing might set them off.

Reese kissed her again, his hand moving over the fabric of her gown to cup a breast, and her nipple tightened. Last night, he had shown her the pleasure he could give her and she wanted that pleasure now, right there in the library. She arched toward him and a soft moan slipped from her throat.

A noise in the hall alerted them, reminded them where they were. Elizabeth flushed as the butler, Mr. Longacre, very tall with black, slicked-back hair, appeared in the open doorway. Reese faintly cursed.

“I am sorry to disturb you, my lord. But her ladyship asked me to let her know when Mr. Benson, the tutor, arrived for his interview.”

“Oh, yes, yes, I’d quite forgot.” Elizabeth smoothed a loose curl back into the coil at the nape of her neck and hoped the blush would fade from her cheeks. Flicking a glance at Reese, she preceded the butler out of the library and headed down the hall to the green drawing room, where Mr. Benson, the second potential tutor who had answered her ad, sat waiting to be interviewed.

She tried not to think of Jared, forced herself not to go outside and find him, make certain he was safe. Dear God, it was her fault her son was in danger. If only she could turn back time and somehow change the past.

But the past could not be changed. She prayed the price she would pay for her mistakes would not be the life of her son.

M
ason Holloway slammed the door to the study so hard the cinnabar vase on the mantel fell over and crashed onto the floor.

“Bloody damn incompetent fool!”

Frances rose from the chair beside the fire where she had been sitting. Dusk grayed the streets outside the window. A heavy fog had begun to settle over the town house. “Perhaps he’ll have better luck next time.”

“There won’t be a next time—at least not for him. The fool was nearly caught. He’d be recognized the instant he showed his face anywhere near the house.”

“So you sent him away?”

“I paid him half what I promised, though it galled me to do so. He didn’t get the job done. He didn’t deserve as much as he got.”

“They can’t prove anything,” Frances said. “We were miles away at the time of the attempt.”

“Dewar won’t let it pass. He’ll know we’re behind it. I’ll be lucky if he doesn’t call me out.”

“Dueling is against the law and if he harmed you in any way, I would see him arrested and severely punished. Dewar is smart enough to know that.”

Mason sighed. “We need the boy out of the way.”

“Exactly. Once that happens, you will be the Earl of Aldridge. Without proof of your involvement, there won’t be anything Dewar can do.”

“Except kill me. Let us not forget, the man was a major in the army. He is tough and determined and not the sort to be trifled with.”

Frances walked over to the hearth, stared down into the low-burning flames. Firelight reflected on her pale skin and the long, narrow length of her nose. “We failed to get control of the boy. Trying to kidnap the child didn’t work. There has to be a better solution.”

Mason sighed. “That is what I have been thinking. We need to hire someone inside the house, someone we pay well enough to keep us informed and do exactly what we tell them.”

Frances turned. “One of the servants?”

“Perhaps. Or maybe one of the guards.”

“We must choose very carefully. If we don’t, we will fail.”

Mason clenched his jaw. “We have failed enough already. We are risking a very great deal. Failure can no longer be tolerated.”

Frances walked over to where he stood. “The strain you’ve been under lately is taking its toll. Perhaps tonight you deserve a bit of…pleasure.”

Mason reached out and touched her cheek. “You are a very special woman, Frances. You understand a man’s needs.” He smiled. “And I believe you may be right. I
think I shall go out for a while this evening. Don’t expect me back until late.”

Frances looked up at him. “Enjoy yourself, dear heart. Tomorrow will surely be a better day for both of us.”

Mason thought of the evening he meant to spend at Madame Lafon’s exclusive bordello. Tomorrow he would return to the task they had set for themselves. Tonight, he would enjoy a night of sensual pleasure.

Notes of a grand piano drifted along the corridor, coming from the music room in the opposite wing of the huge brick mansion. Supper was over. Though Reese had wanted to cart his wife straight upstairs to bed, he had forced himself to wait until a more respectable hour and instead had gone into the library to work for a while.

Tomorrow he would move into the refurbished study that had been painted and made ready for his use. Like Briarwood, Holiday House was beginning to feel like home, an odd concept for a man who had spent much of his life on the road. The army shuffled him from place to place and he had convinced himself it was the life he wanted. The life he would always want. Now, as he thought of the woman upstairs and the child in the nursery, a feeling of home and family settled over him and he was no longer so sure.

The music drew him, an intriguing Brahms concerto. Rising from his chair, he made his way down the hall in the direction from which the sounds were coming.

When he reached the music room, he stood in the doorway listening. Elizabeth sat on a wooden bench, her back to him, unaware of his presence. He enjoyed her playing for a few moments more, but he was a man of strong appetites and Elizabeth attracted him greatly.

He closed the door softly and moved toward her, recalling her response to him earlier in the library. After last night, he understood her physical needs far better than she did herself. He knew that Aldridge had merely come to her, pressed her down in the mattress, and taken what he wanted.

He understood that it was the suffocating, punishing brutality she feared, and until she trusted him completely, he would not make love to her in any way that remotely resembled what Aldridge had done.

Inwardly he smiled. He would keep Elizabeth’s fears at bay by making love to her in far more inventive ways, a notion that pleased him greatly.

Reese silently crossed the room, stopped when he came up behind her and rested his palms lightly on her shoulders. Bending his head, he gently pressed his lips against the nape of her neck.

Elizabeth fumbled over a key, quickly brought herself under control and continued to play. Reese’s lips brushed lightly over her skin, raising little goose bumps wherever they touched.

She could feel his powerful presence behind her, the strength of his desire holding her like a tangible force. The fire in the hearth had been stoked to a golden blaze. The blue velvet draperies had been closed to keep out the chill. Only a single lamp burned, giving the room a soft yellow glow. Reese had closed the doors, making them private.

A little shiver went through her. He was here and he wanted her. And Elizabeth wanted him.

She felt his mouth like a brand on the side of her neck, the scrape of his straight white teeth nibbling the lobe of an ear. Long dark fingers pulled the pins from her hair,
combed through the thick black strands, then he lifted the heavy curls aside and kissed her bare shoulder.

Her stomach floated up and Elizabeth’s playing ceased. It was difficult to think, impossible to make her fingers move over the ivory keys.

“Don’t stop,” Reese whispered softly. “I love hearing you play.”

She took a shaky breath, closed her eyes, and did as he commanded, letting the music take over. The chords matched the thrumming of her heart, heated the desire pulsing through her veins.

Working the buttons of the back of her gown, he eased the fabric off her shoulders and his mouth moved there, across her bare back, his hands slipping inside her corset to cup her breasts. They swelled into his palms, her nipples tightening almost painfully.

Her playing abruptly ceased, the music in her head stifled by her building desire. As she came up off the stool, Reese captured her face in his hands and kissed her, a long, wet, scorching kiss that had her mind spinning and soft heat tugging low in her belly. His tongue slid into her mouth, taking her deeply, and she caught the faint flavor of the chocolate he had sampled for dessert.

His erection pressed against her, thick and heavy and throbbing. She inhaled the scent of starch and man, and need poured through her. Taking her hand, he led her from behind the stool, kissed her, reached down and unfastened the tabs holding up her skirts.

Her glance slid nervously toward the door, but Reese just shook his head.

“No one will bother us here.”

A moment of uncertainty slipped through her, but her
body was pulsing, her need far greater than her fear of discovery. The heavy folds of her skirt, bodice, and petticoats pooled around her feet as she stepped out of them, leaving her in corset, drawers, and stockings.

His hungry gaze ran over her, hot and fierce, moving slowly, taking in the wanton picture she made. She thought she must look like a Rubens nymph with her lips moist from his kisses and her breasts swelling above the top of the corset.

Reese captured her lips in a deep, probing kiss and she felt his lust, his hunger. It should have frightened her, but it did not.

He kissed her deeply and she could feel the hard length of him against her belly, feel the heat and the power. As he lifted her breasts into his palms and lowered his head to taste them, Elizabeth moaned.

She was trembling, wanting him as she had never thought to want a man.

“Do you trust me not to hurt you?” he asked softly.

She moistened her lips. “I trust you.”

Reese kissed her deeply, stirring her passions until she was clinging to him, her hard nipples rubbing erotically against the corset’s lacy cups.

He kissed the side of her neck and turned her to face the piano. “Put your palms flat on the bench.”

Uncertainty warred with interest.

“Do it, love. I’ll make it good for you, I promise.”

She did as he asked, flattening her hands on the bench, thrusting her hips into the air. Reese moved behind her. She gasped as he slid down her drawers, trembled as his hand smoothed over the curves of her bare bottom and he began to stroke her. A rush of wetness slid into her core
and a jolt of the same hot fire she had known the night before.

Her head fell back and a little whimper escaped. She started to rise, but Reese’s firm hand held her in place.

“Part your legs for me, sweeting.”

She couldn’t seem to catch her breath. Her legs widened of their own accord, making room for him, and she heard the buttons pop open on the front of his trousers.

He stroked her again and again, and heat tore through her. She cried out at the invasion she hadn’t quite expected, the slow penetration of his shaft. She was hot. Unbearably so. He captured her hips and continued his deep penetration, and an instant later, Elizabeth simply shattered.

“Dear God!” Release shook her as he drew out then drove himself in, and she heard his low male growl of triumph. Gripping her hips, he took her with heavy driving strokes and Elizabeth came again. Reese didn’t stop, just took her and took her until she cried out in a last powerful climax, then he followed her to release.

His arms eased around her waist, drawing her back against him, and for long moments, he just held her.

“Oh, dear God,” she said again as he slipped her undergarments back into place, buttoned his trousers, and turned her into his arms.

“It’s good between us, Beth. You see that, don’t you? You don’t have to be afraid anymore.”

Her gaze found his and she fought not to cry. “You aren’t him. I know that now. I won’t be afraid again.”

Reese kissed her deeply, and Elizabeth prayed it would be true.

“Royal has explained the situation,” Sherry said. “You all know Captain Greer. Reese is certain of his loyalty. I’m hoping you will be willing to help him.”

Four of Royal’s best friends sat round a table at White’s, his gentlemen’s club, discussing the charges against Travis Greer. The men had known each other since Oxford, all of them members of the Oxford sculling team. After winning the famed Oxford-Cambridge Race, the group had dubbed themselves The Oarsmen and been loyal, dedicated friends ever since.

“My sister probably knows Greer better than the rest of us,” said Quentin Garret, Viscount March. “She and Greer’s sister were once close chums. You remember Greer’s sister married young then died in childbirth?”

“I recall something about that,” said Benjamin Wyndam, Lord Nightingale, the only married man in the group. “Poor chap. Greer’s family all gone, and then there was losing his arm the way he did. I’ll be happy to do what I can. Of course, if I find something that proves him guilty, I won’t hesitate to inform the authorities. I won’t countenance spying, no matter the justification he might give.”

“That is hardly too much to ask,” said Dillon St. Michaels, who lounged back in his chair. St. Michaels was a big man with a dry sense of humor that sometimes bordered on rude. “Though I daresay, I trust Reese’s judgment, particularly in military matters, and if he says Greer is innocent, I imagine he is.”

“What about you, Savage?” Royal asked one of London’s most notorious rakes. Tall, dark, and dangerous, Jonathan’s good looks and wicked reputation drew women like a sale on Bond Street.

“Life’s been dull now that you and your lady have managed to stay out of trouble,” Savage said to Royal. “A little intrigue might help stir my blood.”

“Your blood hardly needs stirring,” St. Michaels drawled. “The scent of a starched petticoat is enough to do that.”

Savage just laughed.

“Quent?” Royal asked.

“My sister has had a crush on the man for years. She would cut off my ballocks if I refused to help him.”

“That’s it then,” Sherry finished, “we see what we can find out.”

The men relaxed in their chairs.

“There is one more thing,” Royal added. “You all know my brother was recently married. What some of you may not know is the reason for all the haste.”

Savage’s dark eyes gleamed with amusement. “I presumed he put the lady in a family way. Your brother, being the honorable sort he is, did the proper thing.”

“I wish it were that simple. Unfortunately, that was not the case. I’m sorry to say, the situation is far more complicated.” Royal went on to explain about the Holloways, how they tried to gain control of Jared and his fortune by drugging Elizabeth, and the threat they still posed.

“From what’s happened,” Royal said, “it’s clear that Holloway and his wife are willing to do whatever is necessary to gain the Aldridge title. I’m asking that while you are all out there trying to help Greer, you keep your ears open for anything that might be useful in stopping the Holloways from whatever they have in mind for the boy.”

The men muttered between them. Royal could sense
their tension. Reese was family. They all were. Royal could count on them to do everything in their power to help his brother.

The purple haze of morning lit the sky over Hampstead Heath. A cold October wind whistled through the trees around the big stone house and sliced through Reese’s clothing yet perspiration beaded on his forehead.

“One more time, Tim.” The stout young man tugged hard on Reese’s leg, stretching the stiff muscles then reversing his movements and bending his knee. Reese clamped hard on his jaw until the process finally ended and Timothy released his leg.

A breath of relief whispered out. Reese sat up on the bench and flexed his leg several times. “It’s getting better every day. Thanks, Tim.”