Reese's Bride (19 page)

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Authors: Kat Martin

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Very dark-haired, solidly built and sophisticated, the Earl of Nightingale was the sort who instantly commanded attention.

“Actually, I didn’t have much luck at the ball, but the following day I paid a visit to a friend who works in the Foreign Office. He told me there were already rumors circulating of a spy in the mix before Sandhurst went to the colonel. Field Marshall Lord Raglan believed information was being leaked to the Russians. That was the reason the Russians pulled back at Sevastopol and were gone from their naval base by the time the army arrived.”

“In other words, the government was looking for a spy before Sandhurst went to them with Travis’s name.”

“That is correct.”

Reese’s jaw hardened, and Elizabeth immediately understood. “You are worried that not only have they got the wrong man, but that they will stop searching for the real spy and he might get away with his crimes.”

“Exactly,” Reese said.

“Or worse yet,” Nightingale added, “he might continue his traitorous activities.”

“Trav isn’t a spy,” Reese said firmly, “which means our soldiers are still in danger.”

Sheridan Knowles looked thoughtful. “We need to find out a little more about Lord Sandhurst. Perhaps the earl had more to gain than revenge against Greer. Perhaps the accusation was a means of diverting suspicion from himself.”

“Interesting supposition,” said Reese, a long finger tapping the side of his pewter mug.

“I know Lady Sandhurst fairly well,” Rule put in, drawing the group’s attention. No one seemed surprised at his acquaintance with a woman reputed to enjoy a good deal of sexual freedom. “Let me speak to her, see what she might be willing to tell me about her husband.”

“Good idea,” Reese said.

“And, of course,” drawled Savage, the edge of his mouth curving faintly, “there may be certain…benefits. The countess is said to be a very talented woman.”

Reese flicked him a glance that reminded him there was a lady present.

“Sorry,” he said, but he didn’t look repentant in the least.

“We need to figure out who else might be a player,” suggested Quent. “Someone is selling government secrets. There is big money in that.”

“And we need to find out who’s buying them,” Savage added.

Reese leaned back in his chair. “That’s where Travis could be useful. He speaks Russian. He could move easily within the Russian community. He might be able to find out who is interested in buying secrets.”

“Let’s talk to Colonel Thomas,” Nightingale suggested to Reese. “I’ll set up a meeting with the three of us. We’ll see if we can convince him to release Greer into our custody then turn him loose among the Russians.”

Reese looked hopeful. “It’s definitely worth a try.”

They discussed Captain Greer’s situation for several more minutes. Elizabeth was beginning to lose hope they had found anything that could help Jared when Royal spoke up again.

“All right, we all know what we need to do in regard to Greer—which brings us to an even more important subject.”

Royal turned his tawny gaze toward black-haired Jonathan Savage. “I think Elizabeth might like to hear what Jonathan has to say. Savage…?”

He finished the last of his ale and sat forward, his attention fixed on her, no longer playing the role of casual observer as he usually did. Instead, he reminded Elizabeth of a panther tracking its prey.

“As we all know, trying to prove your former in-laws are hoping to do away with your son will not be easy. It also may not be the answer. With any luck, the way to stop them may be to prove they have already done murder.”

“What?” Elizabeth rose half out of her chair.

“I don’t have proof—at least not yet. But during the years before they moved into Aldridge House, Holloway
and his wife were involved in what appears to be a less than respectable business right here in London.”

“I knew they lived here for a time, though they rarely spoke of their days in London.”

“That’s because they were not in society. Your late husband sent them money enough to live quite comfortably, but Mason wanted to build a fortune of his own. Two weeks before he and Frances left for Aldridge Park, a man was murdered. For a time, they fell under suspicion.”

“How did you happen upon this information?” Reese asked.

Savage shrugged his wide shoulders. “I’m in the shipping business. Ansel Van Meer, the man who was killed, was a cargo broker.” Jonathan had inherited a failing shipyard from his father, Reese had told Elizabeth, and turned it into one of his highly profitable endeavors.

“Go on,” Reese urged.

“One of my employees knew Van Meer. He said the two men were involved in some kind of shady business deal that went bad. Then Van Meer turned up dead and the partnership dissolved. There were no witnesses—or at least none came forward, and the investigation turned up nothing. Holloway and his wife moved away the following week.”

“You think you could dig around a little more, see what else you might turn up?” Royal asked.

“That was my intention.”

“Why don’t I have Chase Morgan look into it?” Reese suggested.

“He’s been investigating the Holloways for a while,” Royal said. “I’m surprised he didn’t come up with the information himself.”

“The Holloways were only in the city a very short time,” Savage explained, “and they kept a very low profile.”

“I’ll get hold of Morgan right away,” Reese said, “though I’ll need a few more particulars before I speak to him.”

Elizabeth quietly sipped her tea while Savage filled Reese in, giving him as much information as he had been able to come up with in so short a time.

“We really appreciate your help, Jonathan,” Reese said.

Savage glanced away, clearly uncomfortable with any sort of sentiment. He was a hard man, Elizabeth could see, and yet she thought she saw a hint of vulnerability hidden beneath his cool facade.

A few more details were discussed. The meeting was finally adjourned and the small group dispersed. On the carriage ride home, Elizabeth was thoughtful.

If Mason and Frances had committed a crime, perhaps it could be proved.

Perhaps with God’s help—and that of The Oarsmen—they would be punished for the crime they had committed if not the one they planned.

Nineteen

D
ressed in a walking gown of rich russet taffeta, her light brown hair pulled into curls that barely showed beneath the wide brim of her bonnet, Annabelle Townsend rapped on the door to number twelve Brook Street just off Grosvenor Square.

From the corner of her eye, she caught sight of a stout man leaning against a lamppost. He straightened at the sound of her knock, clearly interested in who might be visiting Travis Greer.

Anna ignored him. Instead, when the door jerked open and Travis stood in the entry, she looked up at him and simply smiled.

“Good afternoon, Travis.”

“What the…?” He looked charmingly disheveled, his sandy brown hair mussed, his jacket and waistcoat missing. She could only imagine how much he hated being kept indoors.

“May I come in or must I stand outside like some out-of-work chambermaid in search of a position.”

Travis’s hazel eyes ran over her as he stepped back to let her pass. “You could never be mistaken for a chambermaid, Anna.” He raked back his sandy brown hair, which always seemed in need of a trim. “What are you doing here? This is a bachelor household. You shouldn’t be here.”

“I’m a widow paying a call on a sick friend.” She glanced around. “Where is your butler? I’m sure you must have one.”

“I couldn’t stand him hovering about any longer. I gave him a few days off.”

“Well, then, close the door and invite me into the drawing room so that we may speak in private.”

“There’s a man outside watching the house. What’s he going to think when you—”

“I don’t care what he thinks.” She made her way into the drawing room and settled herself on the plush ruby sofa. The room was cluttered with collectibles and far too feminine for a man as virile as Travis Greer, but as a friend of his late sister, she knew he had inherited the house from his mother.

“I hate to repeat myself, but what do you want?”

“I came to see how you are faring at such a trying time.” Her gaze traveled over his rumpled shirt, one sleeve tied up for lack of an arm, and wrinkled brown trousers. He had never been meticulous, but he had always been neat. “Looking at you, I can see you are doing very poorly.”

Travis blew out a breath. For the first time he seemed to relax. “You shouldn’t be here, Anna.”

She knew that. Even now she was beginning to feel the old attraction, the yearning for Travis to notice her as a
woman. But he only saw her as his sister’s best friend. She would always be a little girl in his eyes and he would always be the man she had fallen in love with all those years ago.

“Well, I am here, so you may as well try to be cordial.” Travis was the reason she had married Gerald Townsend when she was just nineteen, a marriage her father had arranged. Gerald was twenty years older than Anna. He was a patient, doting husband who never made unreasonable demands, and in a way she had come to care for him. But she had agreed to marry him only because she couldn’t have Travis.

“Do you want some tea or something? The rest of the servants are still around. I could ring for some refreshment, if you like.”

“I am fine.” She would love a cup of tea, but her hands were trembling and she didn’t want him to notice. It had taken a good deal of courage for her to come here.

“You look different,” he said as she pulled off her bonnet and smoothed back her hair.

And you look just as handsome as you always did
. It didn’t matter that he only had one arm.

“Are you all right, truly?” she asked. “I know you are not a spy. You are a loyal Englishman and always have been.”

“I’m glad you think so. Not many do.” He sank down wearily in a chair across from her.

“You’d be surprised. You have a number of loyal friends, Trav. Including me.”

“I heard you gave a ball so that Reese and his friends might have a chance to pick up some gossip or some information that might help. I appreciate that, Anna.”

She glanced away. Though Travis wore small gold spectacles, they had never been able to hide his thoughts. She could read his turmoil and his worry.

“Reese and Nightingale are going to speak to Colonel Thomas. They hope to convince him to let you help in the search for the real spy.”

Travis came up from his chair and paced toward her. He was a big man and impressively built. Anna’s breath caught. She rose so she wouldn’t be at such a disadvantage.

“Are you sure?”

She nodded. “They are hoping Colonel Thomas will release you into their custody.”

“Does Reese think Thomas might actually agree?”

“We’re all hoping.”

Travis’s gaze ran over her, taking in the swell of her breasts beneath her crisp taffeta day dress, and her very small, corseted waist. When he spoke, his voice sounded husky. “You’ve turned into a beautiful woman. You’ve grown up, Anna.”

A faint blush colored her cheeks. It was a rare occurrence. She was a widow, after all, and a very sensible woman. “I’m glad you finally noticed. I always hoped you would.”

Travis frowned. “You wanted me to notice you?”

“You’re a very handsome man. Even before you left to join the army, I always hoped you would notice me.”

His sandy brows drew nearly together. “I wouldn’t have been right for you back then. I wanted adventure. That’s the reason I joined the cavalry.”

“I know.”

His gaze found hers, held her immobile. “I noticed you,” he said softly. “Even back then.”

He was standing so close she had to tilt her head back to look at him. “Did you?” she asked breathlessly.

“You needed a husband. I wasn’t ready for marriage. But I noticed.”

She kept her gaze on his face. “I’ve had a husband, Travis. I’m not looking for another.”

His eyes seemed to darken, changing from light green to brown. “What
are
you looking for, Anna? Why did you come here?”

She moistened her lips. “I told you. I wanted to see you how you fared.”

“I’m in trouble, Anna. Very serious trouble. Coming here wasn’t a good idea.”

Her heart was beating. Every fantasy she’d ever had about Travis seemed to be blazing through her head. “I want to help you. I’m going to do everything I can to prove your innocence.”

He reached out and caught her shoulders and she felt the heat of his hands as if they burned right through her clothes.

“I want you to stay out of this.”

“No.”

His jaw firmed. “I’m a man, Anna. You can’t come here like this.”

She read his hunger. He had never looked at her that way before, or if he had she had been too young to understand. “Why not, Travis? Why can’t I come here?”

His hold faintly tightened. “Because seeing you again makes me remember the hundreds of times I’ve thought of you over the years. Because when I did, I imagined us being alone together the way we are now.”

Relief at his confession and a wave of excitement rose inside her. He had thought about her. As a woman, not a girl.

“I want you to leave,” he said.

“I’ll leave. All you have to do is kiss me. Just one kiss and I’ll go.”

He stood there shaking his head, but his breathing quickened and his hands still gripped her shoulders. “I can’t. It’s wrong, Anna.”

“It isn’t wrong in the least, Travis.”

His gaze deepened, darkened. Then he was pulling her into his arms, settling his mouth over hers. His kiss was fierce, as hot and exciting as she had always imagined. He tasted faintly of brandy, and she caught the masculine scent of soap. Anna swayed against him. Her breasts pushed into his muscular chest, and he groaned.

For an instant, he deepened the kiss and desire burned through her. Then he was pushing her away, stepping back from her, sliding his glasses back up on his nose. She could almost feel the tension in his body, the effort it took to stay in control.

“You have to go, Anna. Before something happens both of us will regret.”

“I’ll go. But I’m not letting you off so easily this time, Travis. I’m a widow. Widows enjoy a certain freedom other women don’t. And everyone knows a widow has certain needs.”

His eyes widened. “You don’t know what you’re saying.”

“I know exactly what I am saying.”

“For God’s sake, you’re my sister’s best friend!”

“And if Beatrice were alive, she would tell me I am doing exactly the right thing.”

“But—”

“We’re going to find a way to prove your innocence, Trav. Then you and I…well, we’ll just have to see.”

His expression remained one of disbelief as she turned and left him standing there in the drawing room. Annabelle smiled to herself. At last, she had found the courage to do exactly what she had dreamed of doing for as long as she could remember.

She had finally kissed him.

And it had been worth every ounce of courage she’d had to summon in order to do it.

 

Reese stepped into the entry of Holiday House, his mind on the meeting he’d just had with Chase Morgan.

“This could be our first real break in the case,” the investigator had said. “I’ll talk to Jonathan Savage, see if I can speak directly to the employee who told him about the murder. I’ll also talk to the police. I’ve got some very good connections in that area. Maybe I’ll be able to come up with something useful at last.”

Reese had left the office feeling better than he had in days. If a man was capable of murder—and he believed Holloway was—then it wouldn’t be surprising to discover he had done it before.

He shoved open the door leading into the entry, shaking the dampness off the cape of his overcoat. A chill wind rustled the branches of the leaves outside and a light mist hung in the air. It felt good to be indoors.

“You’re home!”

He looked up to see his wife hurrying toward him down the hall. He tried to ignore the rush of pleasure that filled his chest. “So I am.”

“How did it go?”

“Morgan was excited. He thinks this might be the break we’ve been looking for. I’ll tell you all about it later.
First I’ve got something for Jared. Do you know where he is?”

“He’s with Mr. Connelly, his new tutor.” They had hired the man three days ago. He was the third person to apply for the position, but Elizabeth and Reese had both been impressed with the intelligent fifty-year-old man who seemed dedicated to the job of teaching, as well as his impeccable credentials. And Jared seemed less ill at ease with him than with either of the men before.

“They are upstairs in the nursery,” Elizabeth added. “Mr. Connelly wants to convert it to a schoolroom, now that Jared is older.”

“I think that’s a good idea.”

She eyed him curiously. “So you have brought him a gift? What is it?”

Reese smiled and shook his head. “Ask him to come down for a moment and you’ll see. It shouldn’t take too long, and perhaps it will motivate him to pay attention to his studies.”

He could see he had piqued her interest. Turning, she hurried up the stairs and returned a few minutes later with Jared tucked in beside her. The stout security guard, Sean Gillespie, followed a few paces behind.

“Your…papa has a gift for you.” At the use of the word she looked up at him. Reese thought she was more uncomfortable with the new form of address than he was. “He has brought it with him from the city.”

“Actually it came from a farm just down the road. Shall we go out and take a look?”

Jared grinned. “Oh, yes!”

The little boy stood impatiently while the butler fetched his coat, along with Elizabeth’s woolen cloak, then the boy
ran ahead of them out the door. Reese smiled at the child’s excitement as they made their way toward the barn, where Timothy Daniels waited for them, his hand gripping the reins of a dappled gray thirteen-hand pony.

Jared stopped dead in his tracks, his gaze riveted on the small horse with the silver mane and tail.

“His name is Dusty,” Reese said.

Jared’s gaze remained locked on the horse. “He’s beautiful.”

“I’m glad you like him because he’s yours.”

The little boy whirled toward him, his eyes twin pools of dark brown. “Do you mean it?”

“Of course I mean it. I said you needed a horse more your size. Dusty’s small but big enough for you to grow into.”

Jared stared up at him and Reese caught the faint glint of tears. “Thank you. No one has given me such a wonderful gift.” And then he was running toward Timothy, stopping in front of the pony, reaching out tentatively to pet the small horse’s neck.

When Reese turned, Elizabeth was crying.

“What’s the matter? You don’t think it’s a good idea?”

“I think it’s a wonderful idea. Edmund never gave Jared any sort of gift. I used to buy them for him and say they came from his father, but I think Jared knew it wasn’t true.”

Reese eased her into his arms. “We’ll make it up to him. We’ll see he gets lots of presents.”

Elizabeth managed a wobbly smile and nodded.

Ignoring the unexpected squeezing in his chest, Reese led Elizabeth toward the little boy and his new horse.

“I’ve hired an instructor,” Reese said. “Mr. Montague is checking his credentials. Once we are certain everything is completely aboveboard, he is going to start giving
you lessons every afternoon. Pretty soon you’ll be riding Dusty as fast as the wind.”

Jared grinned up at him. “And you can ride Warrior. We can go riding together.”

Reese thought of the work he had been doing on his leg and vowed to make another attempt with the big black gelding. Still, they would have to stay close to the house until the threat to Jared was over.

“You have to get your schoolwork done first,” Reese said. “After that, you can have your lesson. Once you get good enough, we’ll ride together.”

Jared looked up at him as if he were a god. “You’re the very best papa I’ve ever had.”

Reese smiled grimly, not doubting it for a moment.

 

Leaving Jared and Reese in the stable, Elizabeth returned to the house. She was in trouble. Frightening, terrible trouble.

Today, when she had watched Reese with his son, when she had seen his kindness and concern for a boy he didn’t even know was his own, something inside her had crumbled and the glaring truth revealed.

She had done the unthinkable. She had fallen deeply in love with Reese.

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