Reese's Bride (9 page)

“So what have you discovered?” Reese asked, never one to waste time.

Morgan removed a file from his leather satchel and opened it on his lap. He glanced down at the notes he had
made. “Edmund Holloway, sixth Earl of Aldridge, died on July ninth, a little over a year ago. There were a number of rumors concerning his death, gossip that perhaps an excess of drinking was involved.” He glanced up. “Apparently the man had developed quite a taste for brandy or whatever else happened to be in his glass at the time.”

Reese was a little surprised. Back in the days when the men were competing for Elizabeth’s affections, Edmund had never overindulged. But the earl had been a great deal younger then. He had more money than he could spend in a lifetime. Perhaps boredom had taken its toll.

Reese had a hard time imagining ever being bored with Elizabeth as his wife. And there was the son she had given the earl. Did Edmund care nothing for the boy?

“Go on,” he simply said.

“Along with being an earl and wealthy in the extreme, Holloway led a secret life. After the first few years of his marriage, he began seeking the company of prostitutes. He had a reputation for cruelty, especially when he drank. The women didn’t like him and he was banned from several places.”

Something stirred inside him. What sort of life had Elizabeth led? How badly had Edmund treated her? Reese warned himself not to feel pity.

“What about Elizabeth? Were you able to discover anything about her relationship with Aldridge?”

“From what I learned, the earl and his wife did not get along. Over the years, his drinking became worse and worse. Their fights were loud and vocal. The servants said Lady Aldridge often argued with her husband about the boy.”

He didn’t like where this was headed. “What else?”

“Not much. Just that when Mason and Frances moved into the house three years ago, things got markedly worse. Edmund set himself against his wife and now he had the support of his brother and sister-in-law. Life must have been hell for Lady Aldridge.”

Reese glanced over at his brother, whose jaw looked hard. No matter what Elizabeth had done, neither of them believed in treating a woman the way Aldridge had treated Elizabeth.

For the first time, Royal entered the conversation. “You’re aware Lady Aldridge believes Mason and Frances were drugging her in an effort to gain control of the boy and his fortune.”

“Lord Reese told me.”

“Is there a way we might be able to prove it?” Royal asked.

Morgan’s long fingers came up to rub his chin. “I can do a little more digging. Maybe one of the servants knows something, but the odds aren’t good. I doubt anyone but the Holloways knows how it was being done and they sure as hell aren’t talking.”

“Give it a try,” Reese said, rising from behind his desk. “The boy must be protected. If we can prove the Holloways were drugging Jared’s mother, there’s no way they could ever get custody.”

Morgan came to his feet, as well. “I’ll give it a try, my lord. Maybe something will turn up.”

Morgan left the study and Reese sat back down across from Royal.

“What a coil,” Reese grumbled, running a hand through his wavy black hair.

“Lily likes her,” Royal said.

Reese just grunted. “Your wife is the sort who brings home stray animals. Is there anyone she doesn’t like?”

Royal laughed. “Point taken.”

Reese managed a smile, but it gradually slipped away. “The boy…Jared. He had a real bastard for a father. I wonder if he was mistreated.”

Royal leaned back in his chair. “Hard to say. He seems a nice enough lad, awfully quiet though. I have a feeling he’s better off with his father gone.”

And so was Elizabeth. Reese wished it didn’t bother him to think of all the years she had been forced to live with the drunken earl.

Then again, as his father always said, “Lie down with dogs and you will get up with fleas.” Elizabeth’s drive for wealth and position was to blame for the life she had suffered.

The man she had married had been of her own choosing.

D
inner that night was strained. Now that the duke and duchess were returned to Bransford Castle, only Elizabeth, Reese and Lady Tavistock dined at the supper table.

The dowager had excused herself early, saying she suffered a bit of indigestion, and brawny young Corporal Daniels had escorted her upstairs. Reese suggested a glass of sherry in the drawing room, but thinking what had occurred the last time they had been alone together, Elizabeth had declined.

Now she was upstairs in her bedroom, the household mostly retired for the night, and she discovered she could not sleep.

Instead, she sat reading before the fire, only a single lamp burning to light the pages. An autumn storm had begun to build and she could hear the wind whistling through the leafless branches of the big sycamore outside her window. Before retiring, she had gone upstairs to check on Jared, but found him already fast asleep.

She looked down at the book she was reading,
Hide
and Seek
, a mystery by a prominent author named Wilkie Collins, but the print began to blur. She was tired, but not sleepy, tense and edgy and worried. She set the book aside, thinking that perhaps if she climbed into bed she might fall asleep. She turned in that direction and heard a light knock at her door.

Surely Gilda wasn’t up at this late hour of the evening.

A trickle of fear went through her. Perhaps it was Mrs. Garvey. Dear God, had something happened to Jared?

Elizabeth hurried to the door, her white cotton nightgown billowing out behind her. She stepped back in shock as Reese walked into the bedroom.

“What is it? Has something happened? Is Jared all right?”

“Everyone is fine as far as I know.”

Relief trickled through her, followed by a shot of uncertainty. “What do you want?”

His incredible blue eyes made a leisurely perusal of her body, from the top of her head to the bare feet peeking out from beneath her white nightgown.

“It’s good to see you in something other than black. Though I would prefer you in violet or perhaps a bright sapphire-blue.”

She looked down at herself, realized the thin cotton fabric clung to every curve, and heat roared into her cheeks. Turning, she reached for her blue silk wrapper, but Reese caught the fabric and drew it gently from her hand.

“You don’t need that. I saw your lovely breasts years ago, as you recall. But I’d rather see you in nothing at all.”

Elizabeth stood motionless, trapped by the heat in his gaze, the faint tilt of amusement at the corner of his mouth. Her breathing quickened. Her pulse kicked up.
She watched in wicked fascination as he bent toward her and gently captured her lips.

She wasn’t sure how it happened, how, suddenly, she was there in his arms. She only knew that he was kissing her, his mouth claiming hers in a leisurely manner she hadn’t expected, as if he had all the time in the world, as if he meant for the kiss to go on forever.

Sensation poured through her, heat and dampness and a rapidly building need. His lips melded perfectly with hers, softer than they appeared, warming her as they took control, taking and giving all at once. They alternately coaxed and then demanded, took possession then retreated, insisted she open to allow him entrance until she seemed to have no choice. His tongue slid erotically into her mouth, tasting her, claiming her, forcing a response.

Elizabeth whimpered. She told herself to stop him, to insist he leave her bedroom. Instead her arms slipped around his neck and her fingers curled into his silky black hair. He wore only a pair of fitted black trousers and a full-sleeved shirt. Through her thin cotton nightgown, she could feel the strength of his lean, hard body, the muscles across his chest, the ladder of sinew that banded his flat stomach, and the powerful erection that told her what he wanted.

She should have been frightened. Might have been if there had been anything the least bit threatening in his manner. But there were only tender kisses, sweet and coaxing, and deep, saturating kisses that made her head spin. There was only the heat of their bodies and the fierce attraction she had always felt for him.

She moaned as she pressed herself against him, let her head fall back to give him better access as his mouth
traveled leisurely along her throat and he took an earlobe between his teeth. Gooseflesh washed over her skin and desire burned like fire through her veins.

“Reese…”

Sun-browned fingers worked the buttons on the front of her nightgown. He parted the fabric and his mouth moved to her shoulder. A moist trail of kisses scorched over the flesh he bared. Her skin seemed to catch fire wherever he touched, and her body wept with desire for him.

She gasped as the gown slid lower, baring one of her breasts, and he took her nipple into his mouth. He suckled the fullness, bit down on the end, and her knees went weak. He caught her before she could fall, his arm like a band of steel around her waist.

“Easy…” he whispered softly.

Elizabeth clung to him, her heart pounding wildly. “Dear God, Reese…”

Kissing her deeply, he skillfully ministered to each of her naked breasts, stirring the flames that scorched through her body, and she realized he had maneuvered her over to the side of the bed. The nightgown slipped down to her waist and he palmed her breasts, lifted and caressed each one. He cupped her bottom and pulled her into the vee between his long legs, forcing her more fully against his erection, letting her feel how big and hard he was.

Her heart was hammering, trying to tear through her chest. Her body was on fire. She had to stop him. She knew what would happen next. Memories arose, ugly recollections of humiliation and pain.

“Stop!” she cried out, trying to pull away. “Stop it, Reese! Let me go!”

She wasn’t certain he would. He was a man, after all, and men took what they wanted. He was breathing hard, his eyes as blue and hot as the tip of a flame. Little by little, he brought himself under control.

“You want this, Elizabeth. Just as much as I do.”

She trembled as she pulled her nightgown back into place, covering her breasts once more. “You’re wrong. This…this isn’t what I want. Whatever…whatever feelings we once shared are over. Please, I am asking you to leave.”

His jaw hardened. “You’re a woman, Elizabeth. That hasn’t changed. You can deny your body’s needs, but that won’t make them go away.”

Elizabeth bit her lip. Even if he was right, it didn’t matter. “Good night, Reese.”

His icy blue gaze made a last lingering perusal of her body and his mouth curved harshly. He made a mocking bow. “Good night,
my lady
.”

And then he was gone.

Elizabeth stared at the place he had been. Her skin still burned where he had touched her, kissed her naked flesh. Her breasts felt heavy and achy, imprinted with the heat of his mouth. Her body still pulsed with desire for him.

What he’d said was the truth. Even after all of these years, she desired him.

But too much had happened. The terrible memories of Edmund and his cruelty would never go away.

Still, she wondered…. Was it possible that with Reese it would be different?

Even her awkward first time that night in the carriage with Reese had been better than anything that had ever happened with Edmund.

And yet she dared not risk it.

Sooner or later, she would have to tell him the truth.

Reese would hate her.

And he would never forgive her.

Reese closed the door of the master’s suite, willing himself not to slam it as hard as he could.

Goddammit!

Tonight he had only meant to make the first assault in his campaign. Unable to sleep, he had wandered down to his study for a while, then as he returned upstairs several hours later, he had seen the light beneath Elizabeth’s door.

Guessing she was unable to sleep, as he had been, he had knocked, thinking to do little more than kiss her. He hadn’t meant to press her for more, wouldn’t have if she hadn’t responded so passionately.

But even when Elizabeth was young and entirely innocent, she’d had a passionate nature. That fire remained, but now it was buried so deeply he wasn’t sure he could completely unearth it. He had only meant to stir her desire for him, but his lust for Elizabeth was nearly uncontrollable. For an instant when she tried to stop him, he wasn’t certain he could.

He’d wanted to ravish her, tear off her flimsy nightgown and bury himself inside her.

He wanted her as he never had another woman.

He might have pushed harder, demanded more, if she hadn’t looked up at him with those big gray wounded eyes. There was something there he didn’t understand. Something that made him want to protect her—even from himself.

Bloody hell
.

It didn’t change things. He still meant to have her. He knew what she wanted, what she needed, even if she didn’t. And he intended to give it to her.

It was just going to take a little longer than he had planned.

Reese sighed into the dim light of his bedroom, lit only by the single lamp burning on the table beside the bed. His leg ached like blue blazes. He had purposely left his cane, forcing his muscles to work. Now he was paying the price.

He grabbed the silver-headed length of ebony to steady himself and made his way over to the big four-poster bed. By now, Timothy would be sleeping. Reese wasn’t about to wake him. Leaning against the bedpost for support, he managed to strip off his clothes then climb beneath the covers.

He leg throbbed all the way to his groin. He wished he had a dose of laudanum, but he’d become far too dependent when he had been in the hospital, and recalling Elizabeth’s recent bout with the drug, he refrained.

Elizabeth.

He wished she would leave and he would never have to see her again.

He wanted her to stay.

He just flat wanted her. He prayed that in time, she would come to him, let him satisfy both of their needs.

As he stared up at the gold silk bed hangings unable to fall asleep, he wondered if Elizabeth was as tightly strung and as restless as he.

Elizabeth was still awake when the first purple-gray light began to filter through the windows. It would be chilly outside this early, but she loved the out-of-doors
and she needed time to think. Years ago, she and Reese had ridden the fields of her home, Clemens Abbey, and once, those at Briarwood. Of course, they had always been properly chaperoned.

Always—except for the single night he had wound up escorting her home from a party at Squire Donovan’s house.

The night that they had made love.

Elizabeth shook her head. She was tired of thinking of Reese and exhausted from her sleepless night. Managing to put on her black velvet riding habit without the assistance of her still-sleeping maid, she headed downstairs and out to the stable.

One of the grooms was stirring, beginning his daily routine. Elizabeth headed in his direction.

“I’m sorry to bother you so early, but I am in need of a horse. I’m a fairly decent rider, but it’s been a while. Can you find me a suitable mount?”

Realizing he was in the presence of the lady who was staying at the house, the groom jerked off his cap. “The major—I mean Lord Reese—’e’s got a fine eye for livestock. Got several nice geldings what would suit.” He glanced around, a little uncertain. “It’s awful early, ma’am. Are ye sure—”

“What’s your name?”

“Morris, ma’am.” He gripped his cap and she noticed an ugly scar on the back of his hand that traveled past his wrist and disappeared inside the sleeve of his work shirt. Another of Reese’s veterans, no doubt.

“I wonder, Morris, if the sidesaddle I used many years ago might still be somewhere about. Everything around here seems pretty much the way it was before Lord Reese went into the army.”

“Yes, ma’am, there’s one ’ere and it’s in fine condition. Me and the boys, we take real good care o’ the major’s stock and equipment.”

“Fine, then saddle a horse for me and I’ll be on my way.”

Morris shook his head, dislodging some of the shaggy brown hair that had been hidden by his cap. “No, ma’am, ’fraid I cain’t do that. Not unless I go with ye. Lord Reese—why, he’d have me hide I let a lady ride off all alone.”

Perhaps he was right. Aldridge Park wasn’t that far away and she hadn’t forgot that Mason wanted custody of Jared and control of the Aldridge fortune. She didn’t believe her brother-in-law would give up so easily.

“All right, then, a horse for you and one for me. And hurry. I am eager to get out into the fresh morning air.”

“Aye, ma’am. I won’t be a minute.”

Reese rose early. He’d had a hellish night, probably well deserved. For the past two hours, he had been in his study, reading
Advice on Improved Farming Methods
by a man name Ulysses Markham. It was slow going at best.

And he was getting hungry. Checking the clock, he headed down the hall toward the breakfast room. Cook knew his habits. She would have coddled eggs and sausage warming in the silver chafing dishes on the sideboard. He could smell the rich aroma of Arabian coffee even before he got there.

“My lord!”

He looked up to see Hopkins rapidly approaching, his long, thin legs moving with purpose across the floor, a silver salver gripped in a white-gloved hand.

“This just came, my lord. Arrived only moments
ago—from London, it seems. The messenger who delivered it said it was urgent.”

Reese took the note and popped the wax seal, saw it was a letter from Travis Greer.

Reese reread the letter. Travis was in trouble. He couldn’t imagine what that trouble might be, but his friend had never asked him for any sort of favor. Whatever was wrong, it had to be important, and Reese intended to do whatever it was Travis needed done.