Читать книгу Reese's Bride - Kat Martin - Страница 11

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.

Elizabeth had to leave.

Two hours later, dressed in a crisp black taffeta tea gown, Elizabeth held on to her young son’s hand as they made their way down the hall to a drawing room in the east wing of the manor. It was done in pale gray and white and Lady Tavistock, gowned in a blue silk gown trimmed with Belgian lace, sat on a yellow floral sofa across from the white marble-manteled hearth. A fire blazed there, taking the chill from the room.

The old woman made a slight nod of her head in greeting as Elizabeth and Jared walked into the chamber.

“Lady Aldridge,” the dowager said. “So kind of you to join me.” There was a bite to the words Elizabeth couldn’t miss. She had known this meeting would not be pleasant. The woman protected her nephews like the mother they never knew. She loved Reese, and Elizabeth had betrayed him. Lady Tavistock had every right to hate her.

Elizabeth dropped into a curtsey. “Good afternoon, my lady.” Next to her, Jared made the very formal bow he had been taught by his tutor. “May I present my son, Jared, Earl of Aldridge.”

The old woman’s watery blue eyes fixed on the boy. One of her silver eyebrows winged up as she assessed him. “Good afternoon, Lord Aldridge.”

Jared made the reply he had been taught. “Good afternoon … my lady.”

The dowager returned her attention to Elizabeth. “Why don’t you pour for us, Lady Aldridge?”

Elizabeth did as she was bade, pouring tea into cups while Jared perched nervously on one of the matching floral overstuffed chairs. She passed a cup to Lady Tavistock, then handed her son a small glass of fruit punch and a white linen napkin.

“There’s some sweet cakes there,” Lady Tavistock told him. “You like cake, don’t you, boy?”

He nodded, but didn’t reach for a sweet. Elizabeth placed several on a porcelain plate and set it down on the table beside his chair. A small hand reached out and grabbed one of the decorated cakes and he ate it in several polite-sized bites.

“He doesn’t talk much, does he?”

“He’s a little shy, is all. In time, he’ll grow out of it.” Though Elizabeth wasn’t truly sure. Jared wasn’t merely shy, he was deeply withdrawn, and she was worried about him.

Lady Tavistock looked as if she knew. She pinned him with a probing stare. “What do you like to do, boy? When you aren’t busy with your studies.”

The last bite he had taken seemed to stick in Jared’s throat. He swallowed and looked over at Elizabeth for help.

“Jared likes to—”

“I didn’t ask you—I asked the boy.”

Jared’s face reddened, and her heart went out to him. Lady Tavistock’s brittle voice softened. “I bet you like horses, don’t you?”

Jared looked up at her, caught her smile, and his shyness seemed to fall away. “I love horses. Lord Reese has the most beautiful horse out in the stable. Her name is Starlight and she has a star on her forehead and she is going to have a baby.”

Elizabeth could hardly believe her ears. Jared never said that much and certainly not to a stranger.

“Is that so?” the dowager said. “Maybe we’ll have time tomorrow to go out there and you can show me Lord Reese’s horse.”

“He has a lot of them,” Jared went on. “He has a big red stallion. He can really run fast.”

Lady Tavistock flicked Elizabeth a glance. “You’re a good boy, Jared.” Little more was said until Jared finished his cakes and fruit punch and asked to be excused. Lady Tavistock gave him permission. When he had left the room, Elizabeth looked over to see tears in the old woman’s eyes.

“I thought you heartless for hurting my nephew the way you did. Now I find you truly despicable.”

The color drained from Elizabeth’s face.

“Do you ever intend to tell him?”

Elizabeth couldn’t quite catch her breath. “I don’t … I don’t know what you mean.”

“You know exactly what I mean. The boy is my nephew’s son. I knew it the moment I laid eyes on him.”

Her heart thundered. “You’re … you’re mistaken.”

“How old is he?”

She wanted to lie. She could say Jared was six. He was small for his age; she was certain Reese thought he was younger than he was.

“How old?” the countess demanded.

“Seven …” Her voice trembled as the word whispered out.

“I knew it.”

She only shook her head. “H-he isn’t Reese’s son. He looks nothing at all like Reese.”

“Not in a way everyone would notice. His features are softer, his hair more brown than black. The thing is, except for the color of his eyes, Jared is the spitting image of Reese’s father when he was a boy.”

A buzzing started in her ears. Her throat felt too tight to swallow. She had kept the secret for so many years. Had planned to keep it forever.

“I think our tea is finished,” the old woman said, rising from her chair.

Elizabeth rose, as well, her knees trembling beneath her full skirts. “What … what do you intend to do?”

The dowager cast her a drilling glance. “For the moment, nothing.” She started forward, stopped and turned. “But I warn you, the time will come. When it does, I shall do whatever is best for my nephew and his son.”

Elizabeth just stood there. For an instant her vision narrowed to almost black and she thought she might actually faint.

She steeled herself. The old woman knew. If she told Reese, Elizabeth could deny it and perhaps Reese would believe her.

One thing was clear. She had to stay at Briarwood at least a little longer. She needed time to think things through, decide what action to take. She needed to pull herself together before she faced the dowager again.

Fear crept through her. The truth would have to be told. The old woman knew her secret. Elizabeth could no longer keep silent. The old woman could destroy Jared’s life and Elizabeth’s own.

Sooner or later, she would have to tell Reese.

But dear God, not now. The room spun again and she made her way over to the sofa and sat down. Reese hated her already. She couldn’t bear the way he would look at her once he knew the true depth of her betrayal.

Somehow she had to convince the old woman to give her time to formulate some sort of plan, time to find the courage to speak to Reese.

Somehow she had to find a way.

He shouldn’t have kissed her. He had damned well known better. But he couldn’t have guessed the way it would feel to hold her again, to have her respond to him in the exact same manner she had all those years ago.

As if she belonged to him. As if she loved him still.

Reese swore foully. He had never known the extent of her cunning until now. She cared nothing for him, likely never had. She was using him, nothing more. She needed his protection. And though he had already given her that, he couldn’t help wondering how far she would be willing to go in order to keep it.

Crossing the room without his cane, more determined than ever to stretch and retrain the muscles that had been injured and inactive for so long, he yanked on the bellpull, summoning Timothy Daniels to help him dress for supper.

At least the evening should prove interesting, if more than a little taxing. Elizabeth and his aunt had taken tea together that afternoon. He would have liked to have been a fly on the wall during that conversation.

At least the ice had been broken. Perhaps supper would be a tolerable affair.

Dressed in black for the evening, Reese grabbed his cane and made his way past Timothy, who held open the bedroom door. He was the first to arrive in the anteroom leading into the formal dining room, where a table seating twelve had been set for three and a fire blazed in the huge, open hearth along the wall.

His aunt was the first to arrive, decked out in sapphire-blue silk, a strand of diamonds at her throat, looking every inch the dowager countess she was.

The old woman paused in front of him. “My, you do look handsome, even without that scarlet uniform the women so favored.”

He smiled. “Thank you, Aunt Aggie.” She frowned at the use of the name but he knew that secretly she was pleased. “You’re looking beautiful, as always.”

She waved her hand at the flattery. “Just like your father and brothers, you are. Full of the devil when it comes to the ladies.”

He laughed. He had forgotten how good she was at making him laugh.

Elizabeth arrived a few minutes later, gowned in crisp black taffeta, a circle of black pearls at her throat. Only a glimpse of her pale breasts showed above the modest neckline.

Reese thought how much he hated her in black.

“I hope I’m not late,” she said, her gaze going to the grandfather clock in the corner, returning to him then quickly darting away. Faint color rose in her cheeks and he knew she was thinking of those moments in the music room.

“You’re here just in time,” Reese said. “Shall we go in?”

Elizabeth cast a glance at his aunt, who drilled her with a glare down the length of her short, powdered nose. He offered Aunt Aggie his arm and she rested her small gloved hand on the sleeve of his coat for the short walk into the dining room.

He seated both women, his leg holding up amazingly well, then sat down in the high-back chair at the head of the table.

The first course was served, a nice hot rice and plover soup.

“So, what did you think of Lady Aldridge’s son?” he asked, hoping to ease some of the tension in the room and begin a semblance of conversation. The women’s eyes shot to each other across the table.

“He’s too shy,” Aunt Aggie said sharply. “Needs a man’s influence to give him some gumption.”

Elizabeth’s hand shook as she lifted her soup spoon, but she made no reply.

Reese fixed his gaze on her face. “Perhaps one day Lady Aldridge will remarry.”

She lowered the spoon back into her bowl. “That is never going to happen. One husband was more than enough.”

Aunt Aggie’s silver eyebrows shot up. “Is that so? Then you must have loved him greatly.”

Elizabeth’s pretty lips thinned. “Loved him? Marriage is one step away from bondage and I will never allow myself to be put in that position again.”

Aunt Aggie eyed her shrewdly. Very carefully, she wiped her mouth on the linen napkin.

“I see,” she said, and Reese couldn’t help wondering what exactly it was the old woman did see. One thing he knew, his aunt had an uncanny ability where people were concerned. In a single brief conversation, she understood more about a person than anyone he had ever met.

The meal progressed a little easier after that. During dessert, egg custard with a delicious raspberry sauce, he mentioned to his aunt that his best friend, Travis Greer, had stopped by for a visit and that he would be writing for the London Times.

“I only met him a couple of times,” Aunt Aggie said. “Before his dreadful injury, of course. Always seemed a nice enough sort.”

“He’s become a very good friend,” Reese said, not mentioning the man had once saved his life. The war wasn’t one of his favorite topics.

“He was very nice to Jared,” Elizabeth added, doing her best to hold up her end of the conversation.

“The boy craves a man’s attention. Any fool can see that.”

Elizabeth looked into her dessert bowl as if there were something of interest in the bottom. Reese gave her credit. Clearly, Aunt Aggie was at her irascible best. As soon as dessert was over, Reese led the ladies into the drawing room for an after-dinner drink and both of them seemed relieved.

“How about a sherry, Aunt Aggie?”

“Not tonight. I believe I’ll go on up to bed. Where is that strapping young man who helped me before?”

Timothy, of course, appeared right on cue. “May I be of assistance, my lady?” He had adopted his formal demeanor and Reese almost smiled.

“Yes, thank you, Mr. Daniels.”

“Good night, my lady,” Elizabeth said softly, and received a brusque “good night” in return. Timothy led the dowager out of the drawing room toward the staircase, leaving Reese alone with Elizabeth, an occurrence he hadn’t expected.

Reese thought of the kiss they had shared in the drawing room and couldn’t help wondering what the balance of the evening might bring.