Echoes of Tomorrow (33 page)

It was all she could do not to look at Reed.  She willed her gaze to the floor and tried not to think about the last time - only hours ago - someone had kissed her hurts.  Several seconds of uncomfortable silence passed.  Just when she thought she was safe, her traitorous eyes glanced up at Reed and locked with his.

His discomfort was almost tangible.  Every emotion played across his face, and Elise could read every one - guilt, love, lust, pain, guilt again.  It finally ended with a look that said he would give anything to be able to do as Nicholas said.

"Do you suppose it would work on grown people, Miss Elise?"

Her gaze flew back to Nicholas with his innocent question.  She blinked and looked back at Reed.

And then she lost control.

The first giggle sounded like a snort.  She laughed out loud at the obnoxious noise.  Before she knew it she was so hysterically tickled she had tears running down her face and was holding her sides.  She fought for control, only to lose it again when she looked at the four people, three of whom stared at her as though she were mad.

Angeline's eyes glittered with vengeance.  She rounded on Reed, and Elise overheard the word "hospital."  That did nothing to quiet her hysterical laughter.

Lil, on the other hand, patted Nick's head and smiled.

"Of course kissing a hurt away works on adults, dear boy.  And I shall endeavor to find someone to do just that."

*******

Jeffrey sauntered into the dimly lit parlor, the last of the guests to leave.

His arrival strengthened Elise's decision that it was time to go upstairs.  If she listened to Angeline rub in one more wedding plan, she would go for her throat, sprained ankle or no sprained ankle.

She began to gather up the odds and ends within reach that had been left for her by the handful of the people who had not chosen to avoid her like the plague.  She had invitations, calling cards, and a bird's nest scattered around her.  The latter had been brought to her by Nicholas and Cyprian with the assumption that any type of gift would cheer her up.

Her eyes narrowed when Jeffrey bent to pick up a card that had fluttered out of her reach.  Her expression didn't change when he went down on one knee, ignoring the fact that Reed and Angeline sat across from her.  He took her hand.

"I've come to say good-bye.  But before I go, I have been instructed by Lilianna and two dwarf dictators to come and kiss away the pain that has been inflicted upon you."  He leaned toward her.  His eyes trickled down her body to her ankle.  "I assured them it would not be a hardship for me to do so."

A masculine choking sound came from behind Jeffrey.  When Elise looked up, Angeline was staring daggers at Reed.

"Now, which one of your delightful ankles is giving you a problem?"

"Really, Vancoeur."  Reed sprang out of his seat.  "You can't mean to actually kiss...Lilianna didn't mean...well, it just isn't proper, man."

Jeffrey swiveled his body to face Reed and shrugged.

"Just an attempt to be accommodating, old man.  But you're right.  Kissing a lady's ankle could be viewed as ungentlemanly behavior.  Might I settle for a hand?"

Before Elise could react, Jeffrey had his lips on her knuckles.  They lingered there even though she was playing tug-o-war for her hand.  Reed paced the length of the parlor.

Angeline grabbed Jeffrey's hand and pulled him away from Elise.

"So wonderful of you, Cousin Jeff, to plan to come all the way from Baton Rouge for the wedding.  You must stay at Mon Coeur when you come."

Elise knew Angeline's actions were in no way an altruistic rescue from Jeffrey's attentions.  It was just that the bitch couldn't stand for another woman to be on the receiving end of a man's regard while in her presence.

Before Jeffrey turned, he tipped an imaginary hat in farewell and winked.

Elise dragged her knuckles across her skirt to wipe away the feel of Jeff's lips.  She could think of nothing to say that wouldn't sound petty.  One thing was certain - Lilianna would be hearing about her unfortunate choice of men.

"Reed, sugar, I really am exhausted.  Could I persuade you to abandon your...charming houseguest to see me home?"  Angeline fluttered her eyelashes so blatantly Elise wanted to puke.

"No need for that, Cuz.  I am on my way to Mon Coeur as we speak.  I can tether Zephyr to your carriage and see you home myself.  Save Blackwell the trip."  Jeff slid his hand under his cousin's elbow and guided her toward the door.

Angeline clearly wasn't expecting this, nor did she like it.

Elise didn't miss the veil of innocence she threw over her calculating look.

"Oh.  I had expected you to go into town and...do whatever it is gentlemen do there."

Jeff's single bark of laughter was like a trumpet blast.

"No, Cuz.  No plans for a night on the town.  I believe I will strive for respectability and see what that feels like."

"But there is no need to do so on my account."  She seemed to realize what she was saying before it was completely said.

"Oh, but I wouldn't dream of turning respectable for a cousin."  Jeffrey laughed when he said it.  "But I can assure you I have my reasons." 

He gave Elise a smoky look and held it until it was clear that Reed had seen it, too.

Elise took a deep breath.

There was that urge to puke again.

Elise didn't seem in quite as big a rush to go upstairs once Angeline and Vancoeur were gone.  Angeline had made a few more feeble attempts to dispense with Jeffrey but gave up when Reed took the opportunity to shake the man's hand and thank him for being so thoughtful.

Reed was glad to see them both go.  He was beginning to wonder if this nightmare of a gathering would ever end. 

And those looks Vancoeur had given Elise.  Well, he had to keep reminding himself that Elise was not his.

Not his.  Oh, God.  The mere thought cut like a knife.  He balled his hand into a fist and only barely kept himself from slamming it onto the desk.

Action was what he needed to keep from dwelling on the pain.  But first he had to make sure Elise was as comfortable as possible.  He poured a goblet of water for her and measured in a dose of laudanum left by Doctor Freeport.

"Reed, I'm ready to go to bed now."

Bed.  He closed his eyes and swallowed hard.

"Dri...ahem...drink this.  The doctor left it for you, for the pain."

Elise took a sip, then screwed up her face and shuddered.

"Yuk.  What is this stuff, anyway?"

"Nasty, isn't it?  It's laudanum."

"Whew.  No wonder it gave people nightmares.  Just the taste could do it to you."  Elise took a deep breath and downed the rest without stopping.

Reed wondered at her choice of the word "gave."  Perhaps it was best if he didn't question her right now.  She'd had a trying day as it was.  He ignored the niggling fingers of familiarity that scratched away at his memory.  Just as he had ignored or excused all the other odd occurrences.  His flashes of
deja vu
, the sight of them dancing, the white streaks across the sky that weren't there - all those he attributed to distraction.  Elise's strange words, her use of the past tense, and her unorthodox way of speaking he explained away by her illness or accident or whatever it was that had brought her to him.

Verda slipped into the room just about the time Elise finished her second round of shuddering.  The little servant gave her a sympathetic pat on the shoulder and whisked a teacake into Elise's hand.

"You try a bite of this, Miss ‘Lise.  It take away some of the bad taste."

Verda had been like a loyal puppy since the very first day of Elise's arrival.  Indeed, all his servants seemed to love her.  The house servants were never far away when she was inside.  Even Nell, who was usually coolly efficient, treated Elise with the same warmth she had always reserved only for Reed.

"Verda, please ask Big John to come here," Reed said.

Before Verda could do as he bid, Elise spoke in a soft voice from her chair.

"Reed, could you carry me upstairs yourself?  Please?"

He stood silent for several seconds while he rearranged the wine decanters on the tray.

"I don't think that would be wise, lit...Elise." 

Her expression didn't change.  "Please, darlin'?"

At her words and helpless look, Reed's heart felt like a shell that had cracked, and the contents of part pain, part melting heat oozed out in a slow trickle.  It flowed through his veins and permeated every inch of his body.

He stared at her for a moment, then moved with swiftness before rational thought could return.  She was in his arms in seconds, and he was striding toward the staircase.

Her arms went automatically around his neck, but he tried to ignore the sensation they caused.  At the top of the stairs he turned left and almost charged to her bedroom.  It wouldn't be wise to hold her much longer.

He kicked her door open, and it bounced against the doorstop and slammed behind him.  He laid her on the bed as quickly as possible without actually tossing her there.  His resolve was crumbling like a house of cards, and he knew he had to get away.  He'd come too close this afternoon.  If not for Big John...well, he was an honorable man, and Elise was no trollop.

"Darlin'?"  Elise's eyes were all but closed.  The black-fringed jade gazed up at him.  "Could you help me with my dress?  I'm so hot."

Frissons of heat shot through his limbs to gather in a most disconcerting way.  God, how he was tempted.

"I'll call Verda."

A long sigh stirred the air.  "Very well.  But could you at least take off my shoe and throw another cloth on my ankle until she gets here?"

Hmmm, Reed conceded, no harm in that.  But still, he was quick with the process and didn't focus on her ankles when they flashed before him.

"I'll make sure Verda brings a fresh poultice when she comes.  And I'll hurry her along."  Not that he would need to, where Elise was concerned.  "I hope you have a restful night."

"I promise to sleep well if you kiss me good-night."  He stopped in mid-turn.  "Just this once."  Her husky voice raked across his self-control.

Don't do it.  It wouldn't be wise.  The best thing for both of us is to walk right out that door.

Her lips were like feathers against his.  He kept the light touch deliberate, almost brotherly.  But there was nothing brotherly about what the kiss was doing to him.

Her arms twined around his neck; she buried her fingers in his hair.  Scorching shivers raced to every nerve when her tongue drew a searing, languorous line between his lips.

An agonized moan tore from his throat.  He fell across her and rolled her to her side, barely mindful of her ankle.  The buttons on her gown gave beneath his racing hands, and soon the whole thing was nothing more than a heap on the floor.

Her fingers fumbled, awkward with the few buttons his clothing presented.  Impatient, he yanked the edges of his shirt apart.  His buttons clattered off nearby surfaces.

The last barriers of fabric flew through the air to flutter to the floor unheeded.  Her hands moved over him with excruciating slowness, and shivers wracked his body with each new touch.  He tried to slow his own reactions to match her languid mood.

His hands had a life of their own.  They slid across the satiny silhouette of her body.  He had no control.  His fingers somehow knew what to do, where to find her own special triggers.

He draped his leg across hers, and she turned ever so slowly to meet him.

"Reed?"  She dragged out the word with her exhaled breath.

"Yes, little one.  I'm here."

"Reed.  My darlin' husband.  I love you.  I've loved you for a hundred and fifty years.  But why..." her voice was slurred, "did you...give...me...that damned...laudanum?"

And then she was asleep.

Bloody hell!  He'd knocked her out!

Knocked her out, damn it, and obviously caused some type of drug-induced delirium.  How else could he explain her ramblings about one hundred and fifty years of love, and that he was her husband.  He attributed the icy fingers that grasped the back of his neck to his...heightened physical state.  He refused to attribute them to anything else.

Bloody damned hell!

He laid there for what seemed an eternity, his arrested body in a state of shock, his breathing ragged.  The profusion of whispered curses that drifted through the air would have made a hooker blush.

After he exhausted his vocabulary, he bounded from the bed and yanked on his trousers.  He searched out his boots and balanced on one foot at a time while he rammed his feet into the soft leather.  The rest of his clothes were gathered into a wad and flung into his rooms on his way to the stables.

A bruising ride through the night and a bracing swim in the stream...maybe it would help.  Or maybe he'd just find a nice, secluded spot and howl at the moon.

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE