The Viscount's Counterfeit Wife (68 page)

But he’d sent that
notice. Surely not just because he knew she’d be interested in
Spence’s engagement!

It didn’t matter why
he’d sent it. If he wasn’t betrothed to the Duke’s domineering
daughter, she was ready to fight for what she now knew she needed to
be happy. What she wanted with all her heart.

“I always said you
were the bright one.” Her grandparent’s approval made her hope
she’d be able to live up to that boast, but Tally didn’t feel
very bright at the moment. She’d returned to London, but had no
idea how she was going to face Reed after leaving without an
explanation. What if he’d changed his mind about her? He hadn’t
come to find her in the weeks she’d been home. Maybe he’d just
been ridding himself of that painting, because he had no reason to
keep it?

For the first time
acknowledging Foster, who’d followed Tally into the small salon,
her grandmother waved him to a chair. “Sit your aching bones down,
Foster. If my grandchild is thoughtless enough to have you traipsing
around the countryside at your age, the least I can do is offer you
some respite and a spot of tea.”

Foster gave a dry
cackle and gladly took the offered seat. These two were of an age and
had a history between them that began even before Foster became Great
Aunt Ida’s general factotum. It was clear they enjoyed bantering
with each other whenever they chanced to be in the same place at the
same time. Tally was thankful Grandma Eva had never stood on ceremony
with the old soldier. She’d have hated to see him treated like just
any servant. To her, he was so much more than that.

Motioning to a footman
for refreshments, her grandmother settled back and said, “Now,
dear,” she patted Tally’s knee, “tell me why you’ve come back
to London.”

So Tally recounted her
story. Rather, she told the bare bones of it. She slid over the part
where she’d let Reed believe she was his wife, nor did she mention
his amnesia. Though his grandmother had, by now, probably mentioned
it to Grandma Eva. When she’d finished, she was grateful for the
tea that had arrived a few minutes earlier.

“I know for a fact,”
Grandma Lawton said, “that Selwich has been searching for you. It
will only take a matter of minutes to summon him.” She lifted her
hand to tug on the bell-pull conveniently placed on the wall next to
the sofa.

“No! Don’t!”
Tally stopped her. “I don’t want you to contact him for me. I
want to do this by myself.”

Thwarted in her efforts
to be the instigating force in Selwich and Talia’s reunion, Lady
Lawton was smart enough to know when to let go of the reins. She
wasn’t going to be accused of being like Reed’s father! She
rolled her eyes at Foster, who chuckled quietly. “You may do so,
dear, provided you do it within the week and I trust that,
this
time, you’ll comport yourself like a young lady should.”

Surely she couldn’t
know about Tally shooting Reed! Or about her caring for him, as his
sham spouse! How could she have found out?

“Naturally.” Tally
frowned at Foster, whose snigger had not been discreet.
Of
course
, she was going to behave like a proper young lady
should!

“Damn woman, where
the hell is she?” Slouched in a large leather armchair in his
bedchamber, comfortable in an ultramarine blue velvet banyan, Reed
took another swallow of brandy. He was on his second... or was it his
third? He didn’t really care.

He was sulking. He
freely admitted it. He’d arrived back from Tally’s home in
Evesham, where he’d been told she’d left the day before. Problem
was — the only one there, an old woman retainer, told him she had
no idea where Miss Tally had gone.

Taking another liberal
sip of his drink, he thought of the painting he’d sent to her.
While painting it, he’d been certain he was pouring his anger and
frustration into it. When he’d put his brushes down and viewed the
complete piece, it was clear it had become a declaration of his love
for Tally.

Hadn’t she understood
that?

While being forced to
remain in the capital finishing up interrogations of those involved
with the Vanisher, Reed had been rising early and painting
feverishly. Mostly images of Tally. He’d always been quick with
both sketching pencil and paintbrush, but now he was like a man
possessed. Two days ago, he’d completed his second major piece.
Unlike the first one, he dared not send this one. Euphoric at his
accomplishment and finally freed from his investigation duties, he’d
immediately set out yesterday, at daylight, to go find her.

He’d expected her to
be back in London, by now. After all, he’d included that newspaper
notice. Surely she’d understood!

He suddenly grinned,
imagining her reaction to his second painting. A much more evocative
one! He raised his glass to where he planned on hanging it once it
was framed — on the wall facing his bed. “Here’s to you, my
love. Rest assured I will find you, no matter how long it takes.”

He stood up. Too
quickly! His head reeled a little. Clearly he’d had more than
enough to drink.

Putting down his glass,
he wandered into Tally’s room. His former bedroom. But, although
she’d left this house weeks ago, he hadn’t been able to move back
in here. Every time he entered, traces of her lavender scent set his
senses spinning and made him miss her more. He would use this room
again, after she was there to share it with him.

He went to the open
window to breath in fresh air. It might stop his head from swirling.
He looked out, though what he expected to see he didn’t know. On
this side of the house, he couldn’t see the street and, even if he
could, there was no more Jace or Max keeping an eye on the place. No
more Foster and his Missy getting themselves into trouble. She wasn’t
even in London! A fact which left him moping around, feeling bereft
and lonely.

Suddenly the leaves of
the ivy beneath the window started shaking quite vigorously. He
hadn’t realized there was such a robust wind this evening.

What
wind?
Glancing around, he saw that there was barely any
breeze at all. He peered down into the vines.

Ah hell! Someone was
climbing up the vine! He wasn’t ready to deal with this tonight.

He should get his
pistol. He thought about it, then remained where he was. The vine was
no longer strong enough to support a man’s weight. The prowler
climbing the wall was about to take a bad fall. And probably break
his neck...!

Damn, he supposed he
was going to have to warn him.

“Stupid branch! Let
go of my jacket!”

Tally!
A wide grin lit his face; joyous laughter about to bubble from his
lips. An impulse that evaporated almost immediately. What was she
thinking, putting herself in danger like this?

He leaned out as far as
he could and grabbed hold of the largest branch. Trying not to
frighten her into letting go, he said calmly and quietly, “Do you
need any help?”

“Aa… ach!” Tally
choked back a scream. Staggered by Reed’s disembodied voice
floating down from right above her, her hand slipped and she almost
toppled from the branch on which she was half-perched. “Ho–”
she scrabbled to get a secure grip, even as she gritted out her
question, “how did you know I was here?”

“Elephants could be
quieter.” He quipped, leaning his elbows on the window ledge.

“Humph!” She
grumbled.

“You sound just like
Foster.”

“It looked a lot
easier from the bottom.” She complained. “Perhaps, instead of
mocking me, you would be kind enough to help me the rest of the way
up?” Her arms and hands were trembling from the effort it was
taking to pull herself up. She wasn’t sure she was going to make
it.

“Gladly, Miss
Lawton.”

Next thing she knew
he’d stretched out his arm, grasped her wrist and, in one smooth
move, pulled her up onto the ledge. She quickly thrust both hands
inside the window to grip the edge of the sill, leaning her head down
on it for a few moments to catch her breath. She sensed Reed leaning
over her back, then felt him grasp her under the arms from behind and
pull her forwards into the room, where they both tumbled into an
awkward heap on the floor, with her sprawled on top of him.

“Oof!” All the air
was punched from her lungs.

Chuckling softly, he
lifted his hand and swept her hair from her face and gazed into her
eyes. “Hello.”

She felt foolish. She
hadn’t thought he’d be awake this late and certainly had never
imagined him witnessing her climb. His entry, weeks ago, had been a
lot more graceful than hers. Still, if his smile was an indication,
he seemed pleased to see her. “Hello.”

“
Dropping
in for a nocturnal visit, are you?” He sounded amused.

Smiling sheepishly, she
shook her head at his pun. “I wanted to see you.”

For the first time she
realized what he was wearing. Actually, she
felt
what he was not wearing! His robe had come undone in their fall. Her
eyes shot wide open. With a nervous giggle, she said, “I didn’t
expect to see quite so much of you.”

He waggled his eyebrows
and the wicked glint in his eyes warned her he was about to say
something shocking. “Don’t think you’re seeing it at the
moment, sweetheart.” When she hid her face in his chest, he
chuckled softly. “There were easier ways to accomplish this, my
darling. Not that I’m complaining about the end result.” He ran
his hand down her back. “Are you all in one piece?”

She shivered then
nodded.

“You scared the
daylights out of me!” He hugged her closer.

She lay her head
against his chest. His heart was pounding hard and fast. He really
had been frightened for her. Leaning her arms on him, she levered
herself up and, looking down into his face, said, “I’ve been
climbing trees all my life. It was the only way to escape my
brothers.”

“I thought the vine
wouldn’t hold. Remember the night I climbed in, it had just given
way.”

“Oh.” Horror
flashed through her. She had forgotten that!

“’ts okay. In my
initial fright, I forgot I’d asked the gardener to tie it securely
to the wall.” At her raised eyebrows, he said, “You never know
when it could come in handy again.”

He looked about to kiss
her and she was all for that, but instead he said, “While this is
nice, I think we should conduct this conversation in a less…
provocative position. Also one that pains my shoulder less.

“Your wound!”
Without thinking, she pushed to lever herself up, but at his grunt,
she saw she was making things worse. So she rolled off him onto the
floor at his side. He sat up and helped her scramble to her feet then
followed her up.

He took her hand and
led from the dark room to his candlelit bedroom across the hall.
Turning, he was about to pull her into his arms. Instead, his whole
demeanor changed and he let out a loud growl. “Where did you get
that outfit?”

She gave him a sly,
sideways smile. “l do have brothers, who lived with my grandmother
when they came up to Town. Foster found some of their old clothes in
her attic.

“Foster colluded with
you in this? How shocking!” His smile changed to a lustful grin.
“You look… um... fabulous!”

“I…I …” She
began, wanting to get her explanations over with but, when he moved
to stand in front of her and his robe parted, she was transfixed by
the sight of his muscular thighs. A hot flush suffused her entire
body at the thought of what lay... or did not lay!... under his robe.
Oh, why couldn’t she be smooth and sophisticated like her sisters?

“Cat got your
tongue?”

Must he always sound
amused by her? She wanted him to take her seriously!

“I mean… uh…”
she looked down at the floor, shuffling her feet and searching for
words to explain why she was here. “I’ve missed you,” she
blurted, then groaned inwardly. How mature. Not that any woman who’d
just climbed the wall to a man’s bedroom could be considered
mature, but surely she didn’t have to sound quite so
gauche
.

Cringing, she wished
she could simply disappear in a puff of smoke. But that wasn’t
going to happen. She had to face him and settle this or she’d never
forgive herself.

“I did too. Miss you,
that is.”

“You did?” she
whispered.

He nodded and pulled
her into his arms. “How can you doubt it? Don’t you know how I
feel about you?”

“You never came to
find me.”

“Couldn’t.” He
showered her with little kisses across her face and down her neck.
“Had obligations.” His kisses slowed and deepened. “Can I tell
you about that later?”

“All right.” She
felt shy and unsure what to do. “I guess you weren’t expecting
me.” She sighed and rested her head on his chest and closed her
eyes for a moment.

He chuckled softly. She
liked the feel of his laughter vibrating against her.

“I certainly didn’t
expect you to arrive this way, my dear little wife…”

Her head rose sharply.
Had he lost his memory again?

“No, the amnesia’s
not back.” He jiggled her gently. “But that’s still how I think
of you.”

When he hadn’t come
to find her, she’d been wishing it wasn’t the same for her. But
he did indeed feel like her heart’s partner?

She’d come a long way
in a very short time. Her life had never taken such a sharp turn. To
suddenly be eager for marriage and to an artist! But being without
him these past days had been hell. That, and being threatened with
certain death, had made her realize how important it was to make the
most of life now. Not to be afraid. To go after what you want and not
think of all the bad things that might happen. What could be worse
than being left to die in a cold, concrete cell underground?