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“It’s all right, boy. Here, let me help you.”
Elizabeth gritted her teeth as Mason pulled the box to his side of the table and ripped off the red flocked paper. He tore open the box then shoved it back to Jared and she saw that it was filled with an army of miniature soldiers.
Each wooden soldier was intricately carved and beautifully painted, half the army wearing the red-and-white uniforms of the British, Napoleon’s blue-coated soldiers forming the opposing force. They were the sort of thing a little boy would love and Jared’s brown eyes gleamed with appreciation.
Elizabeth shivered. All she could think of Reese and how the army had torn them apart. A memory arose of him striding unannounced into the entry of Aldridge Park dressed in his scarlet uniform, so handsome her heart hurt just to look at him. He had discovered her betrayal and her hasty marriage to the earl. He had called her a liar and a whore and left her standing there shaking, her heart shattered into a thousand pieces.
Elizabeth shook herself, forcing away the image. Her head was beginning to throb and her mouth felt dry. She watched Jared open the second gift, a woolen jacket that Frances had bought him. He thanked her very properly and reached for the last of his gifts.
He looked up at her and smiled, knowing the gift was from her.
“I hope you like it,” Elizabeth said. She was feeling terribly weary. She hoped it didn’t show.
Jared carefully untied the gold ribbon, gently eased off the brown silk wrapping and set it aside, then lifted the lid off the box. Inside on a bed of tissue rested a small silver unicorn. It stood five inches high, its thick neck bowed, its powerful front legs dancing in the air.
Jared reached into the box, carefully removed the horse and held it up with reverence.
“A unicorn,” he said, his small fingers skimming over the shining horse that gleamed in the light of the candalabra in the center of the table. “He’s wonderful, Mama.”
Jared had a collection of four other unicorns. He loved horses of every shape and size and especially the mystical creature with the magic horn in the middle of its forehead. “I’m going to name him Beauty.”
Mason carefully wiped his mustache with his napkin and shoved back his chair. He had little patience with children and that patience was clearly at an end. “It’s getting late. Now that your birthday is over for another year, it is past time you went to bed.”
Anger penetrated her lethargy and the pounding that had started in her head.
Elizabeth came to her feet. “Jared is my son, not yours. I will be the one to tell him when it’s time for bed.” She felt a tug on the skirt of her blue silk dinner gown. Her head was spinning. She hadn’t realized Jared had gotten up from his chair.
“It’s all right, Mama. Mrs. Garvey will be waiting for me.” Mrs. Garvey was his nanny, a kind, gray-haired woman whose own children were grown.
Elizabeth knelt and pulled her son into her arms. “Happy birthday, sweetheart. I’ll have the footmen bring your gifts up to your room.” She smoothed back an errant lock of his thick dark hair. “I’ll see you in the morning.”
Jared looked over at Mason, caught his scowl, and eased out of her embrace. “Good night, Mama.”
Elizabeth’s heart squeezed. “Good night, sweetheart.”
Clutching the silver unicorn against his small chest, Jared turned and raced out of the dining room.
An hour later, Elizabeth sat on the tapestry stool in front of the mirror above her dressing table. It was late. Most of the household was abed. She had napped before supper and yet still felt tired. Lately she couldn’t seem to get enough sleep.
She yawned behind her hand, wondering if she had the energy to read, when the doorknob turned, the door swung silently open, and Mason Holloway walked into her bedroom.
Elizabeth shot up from the stool. She was wearing only a white cotton nightgown, hardly proper attire to receive male visitors.
“What are you doing in here?” She reached for the quilted wrapper lying on the bureau, but Mason picked it up before she could reach it.
“I saw the light under your door. I thought you might be in the mood for company.”
“What … what are you talking about? It’s late, Mason. Your wife will be wondering where you are.”
“My wife has no say in where I spend my evenings.” Instead of leaving, he tossed the robe aside and walked behind her, settled his big hands on her shoulders and began a crude massage.
Elizabeth’s stomach tightened with revulsion. She knocked his hands away and whirled to face him, the movement making her dizzy, and she swayed a little on her feet.
Mason caught her arm to steady her. “Still feeling poorly?”
Elizabeth managed to pull free. “Get out,” she said, but her head was pounding and the words came out with little force.
Mason leaned toward her, bent his head and pressed his mouth against the side of her neck. His mustache brushed against her skin and her stomach rolled with nausea.
“You don’t want me to leave,” he said, his voice husky. “You need me, Elizabeth. You need what I can give you.”
Her stomach churned. “I’ll scream. If you don’t leave this minute, I swear I shall scream the house down.”
Mason laughed softly. In the light of the lamp on the bedside table, his eyes glinted with sexual heat. “Perhaps the time is not yet right. Soon though. Soon I’ll come and you will welcome me, Elizabeth. You won’t have any other choice.”
You won’t have any other choice. Dear God, the words rang with a certainty that made the hair rise at the back of her neck. “Get out!”
Mason just smiled. “Sleep well, my dear. I shall see you in the morning.”
Elizabeth stood frozen as he left the bedroom and quietly closed the door. Her head throbbed and the dizziness had returned. Sinking back down on the stool, she fought to steady herself and clear her head. She thought of Jared and the danger he was in and her eyes filled with tears.
She wasn’t safe in the house anymore and neither was her son. The time had come. She had to leave.
Ignoring the pounding in her skull, summoning her strength, as well as a shot of courage, she rose from the stool and hurried toward the bellpull to ring for Sophie, her ladies’ maid. A search beneath the bed made her nauseous, but yielded a heavy leather satchel she hefted up on the feather mattress.
A sleepy-eyed Sophie, dark hair sticking out all over her head, walked into the bedroom yawning. “You rang for me, my lady?”
“I need your help, Sophie. I’m leaving.”
The girl’s green eyes widened. “Now? It’s the middle of the night, my lady.”
“I need you to go upstairs and wake Mrs. Garvey. Tell her to get dressed. Tell her we are leaving straightaway and she needs to pack a bag for herself and one for Jared. Tell her to meet me downstairs at the door leading out to the carriage house.”
Beginning to pick up on Elizabeth’s urgency, Sophie straightened. “As you wish, my lady.”
“As soon as you’ve finished, go out to the stable and tell Mr. Hobbs to ready my carriage—the small one. Tell him not to come round front. Tell him I’ll come to him where he is.”
Sophie whirled to leave.
“And don’t tell anyone else I’m going.”
The little maid understood. Though she had never said so, she didn’t like Mason Holloway, either. She bobbed a curtsey and rushed out the door.
Ignoring a wave of dizziness, Elizabeth returned to her packing. By the time Sophie returned, she was dressed in a simple black woolen gown, her hair pulled into a tight chignon at the back of her neck, a crisp black bonnet tied beneath her chin.
“I need help with the last of the buttons,” she said to her maid, turning her back so that Sophie could do them up. As soon as the task was completed, Elizabeth grabbed her black wool cloak off the hook beside the door and whirled it round her shoulders. She swayed a little with the effort.
Sophie rushed forward, alarmed. “My lady!”
“I’m all right. Just promise you will keep silent until morning.”
“Of course. You can trust me, my lady. Please be careful.”
Elizabeth smiled, grateful for the young girl’s loyalty. “I’ll be careful.”
Heading down the servants’ stairs, satchel in hand, it didn’t take long to reach the door leading out to the stable. Holding two small bags, Mrs. Garvey stood next to Jared, who looked up at Elizabeth with big, worried brown eyes.
“Where are we going, Mama?”
Until that very moment, she hadn’t been completely certain. Now she looked at her son, felt a rush of dizziness, and knew what she had to do.
“To see an old friend,” she said, and dear God, she prayed that somewhere in the darkest part of his heart, he would find that in some small measure, it was still true.
Three
Reese awakened from sleep to a banging at his door. Frowning, he swung his legs to the side of the high four-poster bed and shoved himself to his feet. The pounding started again as he dragged on his dark blue silk dressing gown.
Grumbling, he grabbed his cane, crossed the bedroom and jerked open the door to find Timothy Daniels standing in the hallway.
“For God’s sake, man, what is it? Keep that up and you’ll wake the whole house.”
Timothy’s flaming red hair glinted in the light of the whale oil lamp he held in his hand. “It’s an emergency, sir. There’s a woman. She’s downstairs, sir. She says she needs to speak to you. She says the matter is urgent.”
“It is well past midnight. Why the devil would a woman wish to see me at this bloody hour of the night?”
“Can’t say, sir. But she’s here with her son and she seems overly distressed.”
Apprehension trickled down his spine. He had seen Elizabeth and her son two days ago. Surely this had nothing to do with her. Then again, he had never been a man who believed in coincidence. “Tell her I’ll be down as soon as I can put on some clothes.”
“Aye, sir.”
Timothy disappeared and Reese made his way over to the wardrobe. Unconsciously rubbing his leg, he jerked out a pair of black trousers and a white lawn shirt, sat down and pulled them on. As he tucked in his shirt, pain shot down his leg. Since he’d taken a chunk of grapeshot at Inkerman, it was stiff, but not completely. Once he began to walk on it, it usually loosened up. At this hour the blasted thing felt like a lead rod connected to his body.
Reese ignored it. As soon as he was dressed, he headed downstairs, wondering what sort of problem awaited him at this hour of the night.
Leaning on his cane, he took the stairs as fast as he could, reached the bottom, and looked up to find his tall, skinny, very dignified butler standing next to a woman dressed in black.
Time seemed to slow. He knew those finely etched features, the pale skin and raven-black hair, the perfectly shaped eyebrows and lips the color of roses. Images assailed him. Elizabeth in the garden of her home, laughing as she raced him to the gazebo. Elizabeth in his arms as they whirled around the ballroom. Elizabeth out on the terrace, her fingers sliding through his hair, her mouth soft and welcoming under his.
He straightened, met her gaze squarely. “You are not welcome here.”
She was trembling, he saw as she walked toward him, her movements as graceful and feminine as he recalled, a small woman, though she had never seemed so. “I must speak to you, my lord. It is urgent.”
He wasn’t used to the title. Major suited him far more, and it jarred him a little. He might have told her he had no time for a woman of such low character as she, but then he saw that she wasn’t alone. A gray-haired woman stood in the shadows next to the boy he had seen in the village, the boy who was Elizabeth’s son.
“Please, my lord.”
“This way.” He moved off toward the drawing room, limping only a little, hoping his harsh tone of voice would compel her to turn and leave. He walked into the drawing room and waited as Elizabeth moved past him, her full black skirts brushing against his legs. He closed the sliding door, making them private, but didn’t offer her a seat nor take one himself.
“It’s the middle of the night. What is it you want?”
She lifted her chin and he noticed her complexion was far paler than it should have been. She was fighting for composure and the realization filled him with satisfaction.
“I—I know you what you think of me. I know how much you hate me.”
He laughed without mirth. “You couldn’t begin to know.”
She bit her bottom lip. It was as full and tempting as he remembered and the muscles across his abdomen contracted. Damn her. Damn her to bloody hell.
“I came here to plead for your help. My father is dead. I have no brothers or sisters, no true friends. You are a man of honor, a veteran of the war. I am here because I believe you are not the sort of man to turn away a desperate woman and her child—no matter your personal feelings.” She swayed a little and beads of perspiration appeared on her temple.
Reese frowned. “Are you unwell?”
“I … I am not certain. I have been feeling ill of late. That is part of the reason I am here. Should my condition worsen, I am concerned for what might happen to Jared.”
“Jared? That is your son’s name?”
“Yes.”
She swayed again and he started toward her, using his cane only once as he crossed to where she stood and caught her arm to steady her. He was a gentleman, no matter how difficult at times that might be. “Sit down before you fall down.”
She moved forward, sank unsteadily onto the burgundy sofa, her black silk reticule falling into her lap. She reached a trembling hand to her temple, then looked up at him with the beautiful, haunting gray eyes that invaded his dreams. The memory of a thousand sleepless nights hardened his jaw and fortified his resolve against her.
“I am not the help you need.”
“There is no one else I can turn to.”
“You’re the Countess of Aldridge. Surely there is someone.”
Her hands gripped the reticule in her lap. “I intended to go to London. I might have tried to make it tonight if I hadn’t been feeling so unwell.” She looked at him with those beseeching gray eyes. “I believe my in-laws may be doing something to my food or drink. If my condition continues to worsen, my son may be in grave danger.”
His jaw tightened. “You’re speaking of Mason and Frances Holloway?”
“Yes. I’m afraid that even should I reach London safely, my brother-in-law will arrive within days. I’m afraid he’ll find a means of forcing my return to Aldridge Park. Once I am there …” She shook her head. “I am frightened, my lord. I am here because I don’t know where else to go.”
“What do you expect from me?”
“I suppose I expect that your honor will dictate you must help me. You’re a strong man, the sort who can protect my son. I suppose I am hoping that no matter what I have done, you will not be able to turn me out of your home.”
Anger simmered just below the surface. She knew how much he valued his honor. She knew more about him than any other person in the world. He worked to calm the angry pounding of his heart.
“I am afraid, Countess, you ask too much.” Purposely, he used her title, a reminder of all that had transpired between them.
“Elizabeth …” she softly corrected. “We are too well acquainted for anything more formal.”
A hard smile surfaced. “I suppose you could say we are well acquainted. Very well acquainted, indeed.”
For an instant, a flush rose in her cheeks, erasing 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 eating the moment Reese had appeared in the doorway. Elizabeth seemed to sense his distress and managed to smile. She looked paler than she should have and now he noticed her eyes seemed a duller gray than they usually were, without the faint blue undertones that made them so appealing.
“You may go,” she said to the boy. “I’ll be up in a little while.” Her gaze found Reese’s across the table, a little out of focus, he thought. “Perhaps his lordship will allow us to take a walk round the grounds. The trees are lovely this time of year.”
Reese merely nodded. He didn’t intend to punish the boy for the sins his mother had committed.
The child slid down from his chair, grabbed the unicorn, and hurried out of the breakfast room. Reese walked over and poured himself a cup of coffee from the silver urn on the sideboard. He’d been hungry when he walked in. Seeing Elizabeth there, looking like the wife he had once imagined, his appetite had fled.
As a footman picked up her half-full plate and whisked it away, he pulled out a chair and sat down across from her, leaning his cane against the edge of the table.