Kat Martin

Reese's Bride


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the pallor, but she did not glance away. “Will you help me?”

      He began to shake his head. He couldn’t do it. He couldn’t bear having her in his house, under his roof. He couldn’t stand the painful memories.

      She came up from the sofa, so close he could measure the incredible length of her thick black lashes.

      A black-gloved hand settled gently on his arm.

      “Please, my lord. I beg you not to refuse. My son needs you. I need you. You are the only person in the world who can help us … the only person I trust.”

      The words hit him hard. She trusted him. Once he had trusted her. Reese stared at the beautiful woman standing in front of him. He had loved her once. Fiercely and without reserve. Now he hated her with the same unrelenting passion.

      Still, he could read her desperation, her fear. As she had said, he was a man who valued his honor. She had come to him for help. How could he turn her away?

      “I’ll have Hopkins show you and your party upstairs.” A harsh smile curved his lips. “I believe you remember where to find the guest rooms.”

      She glanced away but relief washed over her features. “Thank you, my lord. I swear I shall find a way to repay the great debt I owe you.”

      And then she collapsed at his feet.

      “Corporal Daniels!”

      Elizabeth stirred as Reese lifted her into his arms. Her mind was foggy, blurred. She blinked up at him, into the hard, carved lines of his face. “I … I’m all right. You don’t have to—”

      “Daniels!” he shouted again and a brawny, red-haired young man appeared beside him.

      “Yes, sir?”

      Reese dumped her unceremoniously into the younger man’s arms. “I can’t carry her up the stairs—not with this damnable leg.”

      Corporal Daniels looked down at her and smiled. “Rest easy, ma’am. I’ll get you there in a jiff.”

      She had no time to protest as the young man swept her out of the drawing room.

      “Mama!” Jared rushed forward as they entered the hall and grabbed frantically onto her skirts.

      “I am fine, sweetheart. Just a little dizzy, is all. Bring Mrs. Garvey and come upstairs.”

      Jared turned and raced back to where the older woman stood waiting and grabbed hold of her hand. The butler led the pair a few steps behind as the corporal carted her up the stairs. He carried her into one of the guest rooms and settled her carefully on the bed.

      “I’ll fetch Gilda to attend you, ma’am. She’s the chambermaid.”

      She didn’t protest. She still felt light-headed though the spinning had begun to slow. She rested her head on the pillow and looked up at the ceiling. It was white while the walls were a soft yellow, pretty though the room could use a fresh coat of paint. The curtains were yellow silk damask, the furniture rosewood, recently dusted but in need of a dose of lemon oil.

      She was staying at Briarwood. Reese had agreed to help her. She could hardly believe it.

      And yet, in her heart, she had been certain, no matter his personal feelings, he would not turn her away.

      He walked into the room a few minutes later, tall and masculine, the image of authority and strength. For an instant, she caught the glint of silver on the head of his ebony cane. She knew he had been injured. She didn’t know how badly he was hurt.

      Icy blue eyes fixed on her face. “You are here—at least for the moment—and you are safe. I’ll have Corporal Daniels fetch the physician—”

      “There is no need for that. I just need to sleep. Perhaps tomorrow …”

      “You’re certain?”

      She wasn’t the least bit certain, but she had already put him to enough trouble for one night. “Yes.”

      “All right, we’ll wait until the morrow.”

      “Thank you.”

      “In the morning I’ll expect you to tell me exactly what is going on.”

      She struggled to sit up, eased back until her shoulders rested against the carved wooden headboard. Reese made no attempt to help her.

      “Tomorrow my brother-in-law will discover Jared and I are missing. Sooner or later, he’ll find out where we are.”

      “As I said, as long as you are here, you are safe. Get some sleep. Your Mrs. Garvey is with the boy. We’ll talk in the morning.” Turning, he left the bedroom and Elizabeth realized how rapidly her heart was beating. Dear God, until that moment, she hadn’t realized how painful it would be to hear the sound of his voice. How difficult it would be to suffer Reese’s bitter dislike of her.

      She hadn’t realized the feelings she had believed so deeply buried remained just beneath the surface.

      She had to guard them, keep them carefully hidden away. If she failed, if she allowed the slightest crack in her heart, the pain would simply be too awful to bear.

      The light of a crisp fall day streamed into the house as Reese made his way down the hall toward the breakfast room, a sunny chamber that overlooked the garden. With its creamy yellow walls and the chairs at the table upholstered in soft moss green, it was a room he enjoyed sitting in to read his daily newspaper and eat his morning meal.

      Not today.

      Today his mood was grim and had been since he had awakened from a restless night of sleep. As was his habit, he had been up for several hours, working in his study for a while then going out to check on his livestock.

      Besides his big black gelding, Warrior—like Reese, a veteran of the war—he had, since his return, purchased several mares and a blooded Thoroughbred stallion. With his damnable stiff leg, he wasn’t sure he would ever be able to sit a saddle again, but he had been working to stretch and retrain his muscles, and even if he couldn’t ride, he refused to give up his horses.

      His latest purchase, the stallion, Alexander the Great, came from prize racing stock. Reese had seen him run and he believed the horse would sire colts capable of winning at Ascot and Epson Downs.

      Still making his way down the hall, a noise inside the breakfast room drew his attention. As he walked inside, he saw Elizabeth and her son seated at the table, and his chest tightened at the sight of them there in his house.

      He took a deep breath and released it slowly, and continued into the sunny room. The pair were enjoying a meal of sausages, creamed herring, and eggs, though Elizabeth didn’t seem to actually be eating, just moving the food round on her plate. She looked up at him just then and the gratitude in her eyes made his chest tighten even more.

      It was merely his dislike of her, he told himself, and anger than she had embroiled him in whatever turmoil her marriage to Aldridge had created.

      “Jared usually eats with his nanny in the schoolroom,” she explained a bit nervously, “but since the house is new to him, I brought him downstairs to breakfast with me. I hope you don’t mind.”

      He looked at the boy, whose eyes were dark and round and clearly uncertain. He perched on the edge of his chair as if he might run. A small silver horse, a unicorn, Reese saw, sat on the table in front of him.

      “I don’t mind.” He turned away from the child. It was hard to look at Aldridge’s heir and not feel jealous. The boy should have been his. Elizabeth should have been his.

      But money and power had been more important than the promises she had made or her declarations of love.

      Then again, perhaps she had never felt the least affection for him. Perhaps it had all been pretense.

      “I’m done, Mama,” the boy said. “May I be excused?”

      The child had stopped