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It was a question he didn’t want to consider. An unwanted kernel of worry swelled in his chest. “I’ve sent a letter to an investigator named Morgan. Royal has used his services in the past. I’ve asked him to find out what he can about Edmund Holloway and his brother, Mason. Once Elizabeth returns to London, I’ll have him arrange some kind of security for her protection.”
“But still you are worried. I can see it in your face.”
He smoothed his features into blandness, but he and Trav had been friends too long to play games.
“Jared is still just a boy. Elizabeth is frightened for him. After my run-in with Holloway, I don’t blame her.”
“Perhaps they are better off here.”
His stomach tightened. Having Elizabeth there was the last thing he wanted. “For the time being, they are. My aunt is due to arrive any day. At least that will staunch any possible gossip.”
Travis smiled. “I’ve met your aunt. Lady Tavistock is quite something.”
The edge of his mouth curved. “She is definitely a force to be reckoned with. I don’t envy Elizabeth. Aunt Aggie considers her little better than a harlot.”
Travis chuckled. “It’s a definite coil. I’m glad I’ll be leaving before your aunt arrives.”
Reese tossed him a glance. “Coward.”
Travis just laughed.
They walked along in silence, Reese pondering his good friend’s words. Elizabeth and her son were in danger. Of that he had no doubt. He couldn’t stop thinking of the boy. Seeing him there in the stable gazing with reverence at the mare, he could have been Reese’s own son.
The notion had occurred to him, of course. There had been that single night, a fumbling, desperate coupling between two people who hadn’t meant for things to go so far. Looking back on it, he was sorry Elizabeth had suffered his amateurish efforts. She deserved a better initiation, not a bumbling attempt by a novice to the act himself.
He wasn’t that green lad anymore. During his years as a soldier, he’d had dozens of women. He had learned from skilled courtesans how to pleasure a woman and in doing so gain more pleasure for himself.
But that single night with Elizabeth, he hadn’t even spilled his seed inside her. He had known that much, at least. He had been determined to protect her, and his brother had unwittingly told him the way.
Jared wasn’t his, he was sure. His hair wasn’t black but a dark chocolate brown, the same deep color as his eyes. His features were softer, less carved than his own. His manner was different, as well. He was extremely withdrawn.
Reese had been a little shy as a boy, but neither he nor any of the Dewar brothers had been anything like Jared.
The boy belonged to Edmund Holloway and Reese couldn’t help wondering how soon after Reese had left for London, the earl had enjoyed the woman Reese had already made his.
Travis left the following morning, an hour before Aunt Aggie’s carriage pulled up in front of the manor. The weather had turned blustery and cold and his frail aunt leaned against him, the wind whipping her skirts, as Reese led her along the brick walkway toward the front porch.
She sighed as they entered the house out of the weather and Hopkins closed the front door. Shoving the hood of her cloak back from her gleaming silver hair, she smiled, resilient as always.
“You’re looking well, nephew, if perhaps a little strained.”
More than a little, he thought, with Elizabeth under his roof. “It’s good to see you, Aunt Agatha.”
She cast him a glance. He usually called her Aunt Aggie—much to her distress. “That desperate, are you? It’s a good thing I have come.”
He smiled as he settled her on the sofa in the drawing room, thinking how good it was to have her there, though he wished she couldn’t read him quite so well. “Thank you for coming, Auntie. As I said in my letter, Lady Aldridge has a son. It’s important her reputation be protected.”
His aunt merely grunted. “She didn’t seem to mind the scandal when she tossed you over for that no-good Aldridge.”
He tried not to smile. His aunt had always been prejudiced in her nephews’ favor and far too outspoken, even if he did agree.
“She and the boy are in danger. She asked for my protection and I couldn’t turn her away.”
She harrumphed this time, but didn’t argue. Though she might disapprove of the woman in his house, she would have expected no less of him.
“You must be tired from your journey,” he said. “Why don’t you go up and have a rest? Hopkins has already seen to your baggage. The housekeeper put you in one of the rooms overlooking the garden, though the grounds are a bit ragged yet.”
She released a tired breath. “I’m sure you will see to it soon, and yes, I believe a rest would suit me very well.”
Afraid he might not be able to see her safely upstairs, hampered as he was by his damnable leg, he glanced round for Timothy and spotted him hovering in the hall.
“See her ladyship up to her room, will you, Tim? The housekeeper knows which one it is.”
“Aye, Major.”
“What did you just call him?” Aunt Aggie lifted a silver eyebrow and Tim began to stutter.
“I—I meant to say, aye, your lordship.”
“That is far better.”
Reese just smiled. Things would be different while his aunt was around. As much as he liked her and looked forward to her visit, he would be glad when both women were gone.
“I’ll see you at supper,” he called up to her as she made her way toward the top of the stairs, leaning on Tim’s solid arm. Reese wasn’t worried about her. Tim would risk life and limb before he would let the old woman fall.
He smiled again. It felt good. He hadn’t smiled much since he had awakened in an army hospital bed, his leg hurting like blazes—unable to remember his name.
Then he spotted Elizabeth coming down the hall and his smile slid away.
Elizabeth jerked to a stop in the middle of the hallway. Traveling the opposite direction, Reese walked toward her, his blue eyes icy cold and fixed on her face.
“Good … good morning, my lord.”
“It’s closer to noon, but I’m sure that’s still early for you.”
She had been up for hours, but she didn’t say so. It didn’t matter what he thought as long as he let her stay. To that end, she had worked every day to stay out of his way.
“I was … I was wondering … I noticed your piano, the one sitting in the music room at the far end of the house. Would you mind terribly if I played it? I feel rather useless just sitting round here doing nothing. At Aldridge Park, I had begun giving Jared piano lessons. I thought perhaps I could continue.”
He just scowled. “Do what you wish.” Brushing past her, he headed down the hall to his study, where he usually squirreled himself away.
Unconsciously, Elizabeth’s hand came up to her heart. It was racing, she realized. Ridiculous. The man despised her. She had no reason to feel any sort of attraction to him.
Unfortunately, he had every reason to dislike her while she had no reason at all to dislike him. In fact, the more she was around him, the more she realized the terrible mistake she had made.
She had loved him so much.
If only she had been stronger. If only she hadn’t been so young.
But the past could not be changed. And her time here at Briarwood was limited. Soon she would have to leave for London.
At least in that regard, she had decided on a course of action. She would send Mason Holloway a letter, telling him she knew that he and Frances had been drugging her with laudanum in an effort to gain control of Jared and his fortune. She would tell him he was not welcome at Holiday House, her home outside London. Then she would hire guards to keep watch, to make certain Mason did not bully his way inside.
Once she had taken those actions, there was little more she could do. She thought that perhaps she would document the events that had occurred and what she had done to protect her son—just in case something happened to her.
Perhaps then, Mason and Frances would not be granted custody.
A shiver went through her. It was a worry that had no end.
Six
Reese heard melodic sounds coming from the music room at the far end of the house. Earlier, the jarring notes from the keyboard had been the clumsy efforts of a little boy. Now the enchanting melodies of Beethoven floated along the hall, pulling him like an inexorable force.
He reached the door and stood transfixed. In a room where most of the furniture was still hidden beneath white cotton covers, Elizabeth sat on the bench in front of the Streicher Vienna grand piano his grandfather had purchased, played, and loved.
It was built of flame mahogany, the legs ornate and partially gilded. Elizabeth’s eyes were closed as her pale fingers skimmed over the ivory keys. The boy was gone and she played for herself alone, played as if her heart filled every note. He remembered her playing for him all of those years ago, how the first time he had heard her play, he had fallen in love with her.
The rich chords of Beethoven held him immobile. He couldn’t have moved if the house had caught fire. She was smiling when she reached the end of the piece—until she opened her eyes and saw him.
Her features paled. Long seconds passed and neither of them spoke. Yet the air crackled between them, charged with an energy that heightened his pulse and made his breath quicken. The atmosphere grew dense and heavy, seemed to vibrate between them. His body stirred to life and arousal pulsed through his veins.
Her mourning dress was less formal, simple black bombazine with an inset of black crepe reaching all the way to her throat. Her raven hair was unpinned, clipped back on the sides but falling in dense curls down her back.
She was beautiful. More desirable than she had been as a girl.
His loins filled. Need poured through him. Inside his trousers, he was hard as a stone. He wanted to go to her, take her in his arms and kiss her. Wanted to drag her down on the thick Persian carpet and tear off her clothes, fill his gaze with the lush curves of her body.
Though they had made love that one time, it had been a quick, unsatisfactory coupling. He had never seen her naked as he longed to do now.
“Reese …?”
The sound came out low and throaty. She had called him by his first name as she hadn’t done before. His arousal strengthened. He found himself moving toward her, his bad leg cooperating for once.
“You play as well as ever,” he said as he reached where she sat. She rose from the bench, so close he caught the scent of her floral perfume, so near he could bend his head and capture her lips.
His brain warned him not to.
His erection throbbed, urging him to take what he wanted.
Her mouth was a dark rosebud pink, her lips full, perfectly curved and deliciously tempting. When she looked up at him and whispered his name once more, he was lost.
Bending his head, he captured her mouth and felt the warm press of her lips. They trembled slightly and he thought she might pull away, but instead those full lips softened, parted and he took her with his tongue. A soft mew escaped, half fear, half yearning. It stirred him even more and he deepened the kiss, took her without restraint.
He owed her nothing. If she accepted his advances, he would hold nothing back. He would show her the pleasure he hadn’t known how to give her before.
He caught her against him, pulled her close enough to feel his heavy erection. He felt her tremble, felt her weaken and sway against him the instant before she broke away.
Her eyes were big and round, more blue than gray, as if what had happened completely astonished her. She reached up and touched her kiss-swollen lips.
“You never … never kissed me that way before.”
He scoffed. “There are lots of things I didn’t do before. I was young and green and I was fool enough to believe we would learn those things together. I’m a different man now, Elizabeth.”
She swallowed. “Yes …”
“I’ll be happy to show you what I didn’t know before. I guarantee you will enjoy it.”
She paled. “I—I didn’t mean for that to happen. I just … I don’t know … somehow it just did.”
“You’re a widow. I’m sure you have needs. As I said, I’ll be happy to oblige you in any way you wish.”
Her chin went up. He had pushed her too far.
“I’m afraid you will have to excuse me, my lord. I need to check on Jared.”
He made no effort to stop her. In most ways he was grateful she was leaving. Silently, he cursed himself for his momentary lapse of judgment. What the hell had come over him? He knew better than to get involved with Elizabeth again.
Turning, he made his way out of the music room, trying not to think how much he wanted to kiss her again.
And so much more.
Elizabeth raced down the hall, willing her heartbeat to slow. Dear God, when she had come here, she had never imagined that Reese would want her. When they had been together, he’d been shy where women were concerned. He would never have pressed her for even a kiss if she hadn’t encouraged him.
That night in the carriage when they had made love, she had been the one to urge him on, the one who didn’t want to stop.
How could she not have realized he was a man now, no longer a boy? That he would want her the way a man wants a woman, no matter his dislike of her. And yet he had not forced her. He had done little more than kiss her.
And dear God, she had enjoyed it!
Just as before, she hadn’t wanted the kiss to end. Until those few heated moments, she had forgotten what it was to desire a man. Those yearnings had disappeared the day Reese had ridden off to London.
She had felt nothing for Edmund. Nothing but disgust.
Edmund had claimed his husbandly rights by force. It never occurred to him that a woman should take pleasure in the act. On their wedding night, Edmund had merely climbed on top of her, lifted her nightgown and thrust himself inside her. Their sporadic couplings had been painful and humiliating. She had grown to hate the sound of his footfalls in the room next door, the sound of the doorknob turning.
She had never thought to enjoy a man’s touch again, but today … today she had discovered that she was still a woman, and she was still vulnerable to Reese. That he could arouse the same forbidden desires he had before seemed impossible until today.
Now she knew the truth and it was terrifying.
Elizabeth lifted the black skirts of her simple mourning gown and hurried up the stairs. Last night she had avoided supper with Reese and his aunt, Lady Tavistock, who had arrived late that afternoon.
But the dowager countess had sent a request for Elizabeth and her son to join her for afternoon tea, a summons Elizabeth could not refuse. Her hand trembled as she opened the door to her bedroom. Her lips still carried the memory of Reese’s mouth moving hotly over hers.
Her heart still thrummed as she stepped into her room, closed the door behind her, and leaned against it for support. Thank God, she had time to collect her wits before the encounter with his aunt. An hour or so to erase Reese from her thoughts, which at the moment, seemed an impossible task.
She would manage somehow, she knew, use the hours ahead to regain control and begin making preparations for her journey to London.
After what had happened in the music room, the time had come.
