Reese's Bride (14 page)

“So?” He couldn’t see where this was leading. So Travis kept a journal. So what?

“So her husband came home early one day and caught us together. He was furious. I guess he must have overheard me talking about the journal. The affair ended, but Sandhurst wasn’t satisfied. He started digging into my past, found out my mother was Russian. He knew I spoke the language and that I was stationed in the Crimea. The earl went to the authorities suggesting I might well be a spy.”

Reese grunted. “A spy? That’s ridiculous. You fought like a demon over there. You lost your arm at Balaklava fighting to save my life. Surely that alone was enough to prove you were innocent of any such charges.”

“I thought my record would speak for itself. Apparently I was wrong.”

Reese fell silent. If there was one thing he knew for sure it was that Travis was a loyal Englishman. “What happened to the journal?”

Trav released a breath. “That’s the worst part. Last week, men from the Foreign Office came to the house. They searched the place. The journal was sitting on the desk in my study. It never occurred to me to hide it. The men took it with them.”

Reese looked at him hard. “Tell me there was nothing in the journal that shouldn’t have been there.”

Travis glanced away. He shoved his small gold spectacles up on his nose. “Everything I saw over there, everything I knew, I wrote down on those pages. I wanted to be a journalist. I thought it would help me remember what war was like once I got back home.”

“Bloody hell.”

“They think I might be guilty of treason, Reese. That’s the reason I didn’t want to put all this in a letter. And why I need your help.”

Clearly Travis needed all the help he could get. “Who’s in charge of the investigation?”

“Colonel Malcolm Thomas of the Foreign Office. Apparently he and Lord Sandhurst are friends.”

“This just gets worse and worse.”

Trav’s shoulders tightened. “I know.”

“Anything else you can tell me?”

“Not at the moment.”

Reese stood up from the sofa. “My wife and I—”

“Your
wife?
” Travis shot up from his chair. “You got married?”

Reese managed a nod. “I believe you met Elizabeth while you were at Briarwood.”

“Yes, you told me about her no-good brother-in-law, but I thought you—”

“It’s a long story. As you said, things happen. At any
rate, we are in residence at a place called Holiday House. It’s near the village of Highgate on Hampstead Heath. If you need to reach me, send word there.”

Travis actually grinned. “So you married her. I always figured you were still in love with her. You have to have strong feelings for someone to hate them for that many years.”

Reese just grunted. “There were extenuating circumstances. Holloway is still a threat. I’d promised to protect her. I had no other choice.”

A slight, knowing curve remained on Travis’s lips. Wisely he didn’t say what he was thinking. “Congratulations.”

Reese made no reply. He didn’t tell his friend the marriage had yet to be consummated. He didn’t say he had been counting the days till the end of the week. Or that though there were only a few days left, each night lying next to her felt like an eternity.

“I’ll start digging,” Reese said, “see what I can find out. I can’t imagine Sandhurst’s accusations alone would be enough to cause all this commotion. There has to be something more.”

“I wish there was something I could do. I gave them my word I wouldn’t leave the house until this was settled. Apparently, my word isn’t good enough—they’ve got men posted across the street round the clock.”

Reese didn’t like what that meant. He clamped his friend on the shoulder. “I’ll let you know what I come up with.”

As he left the house and climbed aboard his carriage, he pondered his friend’s situation and wished he could read the journal. They hanged traitors. Reese was determined not to let that happen to his friend.

From Travis’s house, Reese headed to his appointment in Threadneedle Street, at the office of the investigator, Chase Morgan. Since the attempt on Elizabeth’s life, Morgan had beefed up his efforts to uncover what he could about Mason and Frances Holloway. A meeting had been arranged to discuss his findings.

“Any problems with security at the house?” the investigator asked as Reese took a seat across from his desk.

“None so far. I assume these are men you trust.”

“I’ve known most of those men for a number of years. Each has been extremely reliable. One of the inside men, my head of security, Jack Montague, is particularly good at his job.”

Reese nodded. “I talked to him before I left the house. I wouldn’t have gone if I thought he couldn’t do the job.” He shifted in his chair, studied Morgan with a probing glance. “So what about Holloway? What more have you found out?”

“Not much, unfortunately. A couple of the servants at Aldridge Park said they thought something might be going on with Lady Aldridge, but they didn’t know exactly what it was. And they had no idea who might be responsible.”

“In other words, we still have no proof.”

“Not yet.” Morgan sat back in his chair. “I also spoke to the late Lord Aldridge’s solicitor, Milton Bryce. Apparently, the earl was planning to change his will, leave everything not entailed to the earldom to his brother.”

Reese frowned. “Jared is his heir. Why would he do that?”

“According to Bryce, Aldridge and his wife were
barely speaking. The son she gave him was a bitter disappointment. And Mason and Frances were devoted. I suppose in his mind it made sense.”

Reese glanced down, surprised to see one of his hands had fisted. The boy was gentle and sweet, and behind the barrier of his shyness, appeared to be extremely intelligent. Reese couldn’t see how such a child could be a disappointment.

“No wonder Mason is after the boy’s fortune,” he said. “He believes it should have been his.”

“The law disagrees. The will wasn’t changed. The boy inherits everything. It’s as simple as that.”

“Not for long if Mason has his way.”

Morgan made no reply. It was his company’s job to protect Elizabeth and her son, but Morgan and Reese both knew there was always a chance Holloway would succeed.

“He’s in town, by the way. He and his wife arrived just this morning. They’re staying at Aldridge’s town house. Apparently they have the legal right.”

Reese swore under his breath.

“I’ve got a man on it. We’ll know what they’re doing before they do.”

“Good. That’s good.” He had considered asking Morgan to investigate the case being built against Travis, but Elizabeth’s situation was too uncertain. He didn’t want to divert Morgan’s attention from the more important task of keeping Elizabeth and Jared safe.

And he had an idea where he might find even better help for that sort of problem. Royal would be arriving on brewery business in just a few days. He and his friends moved effortlessly through the highest circles of society. They might be able to find out what Reese needed to know.

In the meantime, he wanted to talk to Colonel Thomas of the War Office, discover how bad Travis’s situation actually was.

Reese rose from his chair. “Keep in touch,” he said to Morgan, reaching for his cane.

“Count on it,” said Morgan.

E
lizabeth hummed merrily as she worked with two of the chambermaids, freshening the upstairs bedrooms at Holiday House. She hadn’t been to the estate since her father died. For a time, it held too many sad memories.

Since her return, she had discovered those memories could be pleasant, reminders of the life she had led as a girl. Her mother had been alive some of those early years and though her father had been dictatorial and often overbearing, she had loved him and he had loved her.

This morning after Reese had left for London, she had made a cursory examination of the mansion. The housekeeper, Mrs. McDonald, had been in charge for as long as Elizabeth could recall, but in the past few years, the woman had grown old and sickly and was barely able to leave her quarters. Tasks she used to oversee with such skill had become more than she could handle.

The house needed a good thorough cleaning and Elizabeth had decided to take on the task. She had been
working since early that morning and amazingly, she was enjoying herself.

“The rugs in the east wing guest rooms all need to be beaten, Fanny.” Lovely Persian carpets in every color whose bright hues would surely return with a little care. “Take one of the footmen along to help you.”

“Yes, my lady.” The chambermaid scurried away, and Elizabeth turned to another task.

“Betty, you strip the sheets and take them down to be laundered. We’ll tackle the drapes in the morning.”

“Aye, milady.”

Elizabeth headed down the corridor, catching a glimpse of herself in one of the big gilded mirrors on the wall. She had stuffed her heavy curls beneath a mob cap, tied an apron over her skirts and set to work. She looked a bit of a fright, to be sure, but since Reese wasn’t due back for several more hours, it didn’t really matter.

Descending the sweeping marble staircase, she moved purposely toward the butler’s pantry to check on the progress being made with the silver polishing. As she reached the bottom stair, she saw Reese standing in the entry staring up at her.

“Since when does the lady of the house have to do servants’ work?” Amusement laced his deep voice. She hadn’t expected him back so soon, but even with guards inside and outside the house, she knew he was concerned for her and Jared’s safety.

She thought of the dust on her skirts, the curls escaping from her cap, and a blush rose in her cheeks.

“Mrs. McDonald has grown quite old,” she said a bit defensively. “Until I find a suitable replacement, I’ve decided to take care of things myself.”

He looked surprised. “Are you certain? Surely you can find someone to do it for you.”

“I’ll find someone, sooner or later. In the meantime…”

The shuffle of small feet drew her attention as Jared appeared in the entry. “Mama likes to clean. It makes her smile.”

Elizabeth looked at her son and felt a rush of love for him. Jared was extremely perceptive and he was right. She had been smiling all morning.

“So it does,” Reese agreed, the corner of his mouth tilting up.

At Aldridge Park she’d done nothing but sit round all day embroidering or reading. It wasn’t proper for a countess to work in any sort of fashion, Edmund had said. She had ridden occasionally, but never without a groom and even then, Edmund disapproved.

After his death, worry for her son and later the drugs Mason and Frances had been giving her had sapped most of her energy. She glanced at the banister, polished to a high, glossy sheen. It felt good to be accomplishing something again.

“See?” Jared pointed up at her. “She’s doing it again.”

Reese laughed. It was such a rare occurrence and it made him look so handsome her breath caught.

“A countess who likes to dust. Who would have guessed?”

Her chin inched up. “I am hardly doing it alone. I’ve put half a dozen servants to work this morning.”

Reese chuckled and she felt an odd little lift in her heart. Every night since their wedding, she had slept beside him. Each night he demanded a little more, and yet he was always careful not to press her too hard, demand too much.

The last few evenings, she found herself looking forward to his kisses, his skillful caresses. So much so that when he stopped, turned onto his side and pulled her against him, she felt edgy and restless, desperate for him to continue. Tomorrow night, he would claim his husbandly rights. She should be frightened but every time he looked at her the way he was now, all she felt was anticipation.

Elizabeth took a deep breath, fighting the urge to go up on her toes and kiss him. She wondered what he would do if she did. It wasn’t going to happen with Jared standing right beside her.

“How was your meeting with Captain Greer?” she asked instead.

Reese’s smile slowly faded. “I’ll tell you about it when you’re finished.” He glanced down at his son. Though she knew how dangerous it was, she could no longer think of Jared any other way.

Reaching out to the boy, he ran a gentle hand over his hair, smoothing back a wayward dark strand. “In the meantime, why don’t you and I go out and take a look at the horses? I hear your grandfather kept a very nice string.”

Jared’s big dark eyes widened. “Oh, that would be ever so grand!”

“I sent Corporal Daniels back to Briarwood. He should be back soon with Warrior.”

Jared looked up at him. “Do you ever ride him?”

“When I was in the army, I rode him all the time. Eventually, I’m going to ride him again.”

Worry flared in the pit of her stomach. She wanted Reese’s leg to improve but sitting a horse without the balance he needed could prove extremely dangerous.

“I’ll see you in a bit,” he said, flashing her a grin and a last long glance that said he would like to see her the way he did each night—naked and responding to his kisses. A look that had nothing at all to do with Captain Travis Greer.

“All right,” she replied a little breathlessly. “Enjoy your outing,” she said to Jared, who hesitated only a moment before falling in beside Reese.

Watching father and son walk away, Reese’s hand resting protectively on the little boy’s shoulder, her heart squeezed. She considered telling Reese the truth and wished with all her being that she could.

Not yet
, a little voice warned.
Not until you become his wife in more than just name
.

Not until he comes to care for you
. But she wasn’t sure how much he would ever truly care. And even if he did, that care would disappear—once he knew what she had done.

Waiting for Elizabeth to join him, Reese sat on the sofa in front of the fire in the library, a huge, two-story chamber with a row of mullioned windows along the wall near the ceiling to let in light. Except for a comfortable seating area built around a marble hearth, the room was lined with walnut shelves filled with hundreds of leather-bound books.

It was an interesting room, Reese thought, one he had taken over to use as a study until the actual study could be refurbished. He and Charles Clemens, Elizabeth’s father, had little in common. Reese wanted the bric-a-brac removed, the leather sofas cleaned, and the room repainted to remove any lingering traces of Lord Charles’s cigars.

Reese had asked Elizabeth’s permission, of course,
and she had readily agreed. The past was over. It was time to look toward the future.

“How was your trip to the stable?” she asked as she appeared in the doorway then crossed the room to where he stood waiting. He motioned for her to take a seat on the sofa in front of the fire then sat down beside her, trying to ignore the scent of roses that drifted up from her hair.

“It’s past time your son learned to ride,” he said. “The way he loves horses, I’m surprised Edmund didn’t insist on giving him lessons.”

Elizabeth glanced away. “Edmund spent very little time with Jared. Their likes and dislikes were very dissimilar. Edmund owned a number of fine, blooded horses, but he never enjoyed riding himself.”

“Unlike you.” He remembered how much she had loved to ride. Had done so at Briarwood as soon as her health had returned.

“Edmund and I…we also had little in common.”

“I see.” But he didn’t really understand at all. What had drawn her to a man with whom she enjoyed so few interests? A man who gave her not the least amount of pleasure in bed?

The word
pleasure
stirred a jolt of heat that shot straight into his groin. An image arose of Elizabeth last night, kissing him with wild abandon, whimpering as he caressed her lovely breasts. Tomorrow night, her week would be up. He would take her, satisfy this lust that rode him like a demon every minute of the day.

His gaze ran over the curve of her voluptuous breasts. He knew exactly the fullness, the dusky hue of her nipples. He knew exactly the way they tasted, the way they
tightened into firm little buds beneath his tongue. His erection pulsed. He needed her, dammit. He needed to assuage this constant lust he felt for her.

“I have business in the city again on the morrow,” he said. “I plan to take you with me. I’m tired of seeing you in those damnable black dresses. And as much as I would like to, I can’t keep you cooped up inside forever.”

And two of Morgan’s men would go with them. He figured with the three of them to protect her, she would be safe.

Elizabeth’s features brightened, then the rose in her cheeks slowly faded. “What about Jared?”

“He’ll be safe right here. Jack Montague is a professional. He’s an ex-soldier. Served in the 62nd Foot, and from what I can tell, extremely capable. He’ll stick with Jared every minute until we get home.”

She nibbled her lush bottom lip and his loins began to stir. He had already made up his mind he wouldn’t be sleeping with her tonight. The next time he came to her bed, he would claim her. Until then, the physical toll was simply too great.

“Perhaps we could stop by the newspaper office and place an ad for a tutor,” she suggested. “Jared’s education has been postponed too long already.”

“We’ll have to be extremely thorough in our investigation of whomever we hire, but you’re right. The boy is intelligent and rapidly growing bored. He needs to be learning.”

“Thank you.”

Reese ignored the soft smile that stirred his hunger. “You asked me earlier about Captain Greer.”

“Is the trouble he is in truly as bad as he believes?”

“Worse. He hasn’t been charged yet, but there is a very good chance he will be. There are people in the foreign office who believe Travis is a spy.”

Elizabeth’s gray eyes widened. Reese went on to explain about the journal and Travis’s Russian background, and her concern deepened.

“But Captain Greer is a journalist,” she said. “Surely writing his memoirs of the war isn’t enough to convict him of treason.”

“That’s what I’ve been thinking. I’m trying to get an appointment with Colonel Thomas at the Foreign Office, see what else might be going on. Apparently the colonel is out of town on business and won’t be back for a couple of days.”

“What will you say to him?”

“I’ll speak for Travis and explain about the journal. Greer is a bloody hero, for God’s sake, not a criminal.”

“Surely there is some sort of misunderstanding.”

“If that’s all it is, they’re going to a great deal of trouble. Travis is confined to his house and watched twenty-four hours a day.”

Elizabeth rested a hand on his arm. “You’ll make them understand, I know you will.”

“I’ll do my very best.”

Rising from the sofa, he drew her up against him. His gaze met hers, his dark with hunger, letting her know how much he wanted her.

“Tomorrow night, Elizabeth. Tomorrow night, you’re mine.”

Her breathing quickened. Nervously, she moistened her lips and he couldn’t resist lowering his head to taste them. The kiss deepened, lengthened.

Elizabeth didn’t fight him. Instead her arms went around his neck. Desire tore through him, gripped him like an unseen force. He cupped her bottom and pulled her against his arousal, letting her feel how hard he was. Elizabeth gave up a little whimper as he claimed her mouth again. He could feel her rapid heartbeat against his chest and his need swelled along with his erection. Close to the breaking point and afraid he might take her right there, he let her go.

“Tomorrow,” he reminded her softly.

Elizabeth raised a trembling hand to her kiss-swollen lips, turned and fled the library.

Reese sighed. Tomorrow seemed an eternity away.

London bustled with activity. Freight wagons, carriages, and hansom cabs clogged the cobbled streets. Pedestrians dodged horses and tradesmen hawking their wares, making travel difficult, to say the least.

Two of Chase Morgan’s men, heavily armed, rode at the back of Reese’s carriage. Though he didn’t expect trouble so soon after Holloway’s arrival, he carried a five-shot pocket pistol, and of course, the vicious little dagger concealed in his cane.

Their first stop was the solicitor’s office. Mr. Edward Pinkard was a man trusted by all three Dewar brothers. Pinkard, who had worked for Reese’s father, had tried to protect the late duke from the terrible swindle that had drained most of Royal’s inheritance.

Fortunately, Royal was rebuilding the dukedom and replenishing the Bransford fortune. With Lily’s help and support, he appeared to be doing a damned fine job.

Pinkard, with his pale blue eyes and a leonine mane
of silver hair, walked toward them. “It’s good to see you, my lord.” He smiled at Elizabeth. “A pleasure to meet you, my lady.” Pinkard bowed formally over Elizabeth’s hand. “I wondered if this young rascal would ever be brought to heel.”

Reese almost smiled. He was hardly young anymore and lately felt even older than his twenty-eight years. But Pinkard, Reese’s father’s age, had known him as a boy and some things just didn’t change.

“You’re aware of my recent marriage,” Reese said. “As I said in my letter, I’d like to start proceedings to adopt Elizabeth’s son. Now that Elizabeth and I are married, I want to give him my name.”

Without too many details, Reese made certain Pinkard understood who Jared was and the urgent need to see the matter accomplished. When he had finished, he leaned over the solicitor’s desk.