Reese's Bride (15 page)

“We need this done with all haste. My brother has agreed to help in any way he can. Suffice it to say, the boy needs the protection of my name.”

The solicitor frowned but knew better than to press for more. “A hearing will be required. There may be certain stipulations—the boy is an earl, after all. But unless the adoption is contested, it will only be a matter of formality. I’ll let you know as soon as the date is set.”

“Thank you.”

“You have my word I’ll see this done as quickly as possible.”

They left the office and returned to the carriage, Reese settling back against the tufted velvet seat.

“You don’t think Mason will protest the adoption?” Elizabeth asked.

“I don’t think he has grounds. You’re Jared’s mother. His father is dead and your husband is a member of the aristocracy.”

Elizabeth didn’t say more. Both of them knew it was impossible to predict what Mason and Frances might do.

The
London Times
was the next stop on their agenda. It didn’t take long to place an ad for a qualified tutor. When they climbed back aboard the coach, Elizabeth looked relieved.

“I worry about him. Jared is so incredibly shy. I need to find someone who can get through to him, win his trust.”

Reese’s gaze found hers. “Jared is more than just shy, Elizabeth. The boy is extremely withdrawn. What happened to make him the way he is? Was it Aldridge?”

She blinked several times. In the light streaming in through the windows, he caught the faint sheen of tears.

“I don’t know exactly what happened. Edmund never physically hurt him. He just…he always made Jared feel as if he had done something wrong. Jared did everything he could to please him but it was never enough.”

Reese silently cursed. The bastard was lucky he was dead.

“Once Edmund realized that Jared was never going to be the kind of son he imagined, he turned away from him completely. Jared grew more and more distant, more and more insecure.”

She looked up at him and the tears brimming in her eyes slipped over onto her cheeks. “I’m glad Edmund is dead. God forgive me, I am glad.”

Reese drew her into his arms. “Hush,” he soothed, feeling the wetness against his cheek. “Aldridge is gone
from your life. You and the boy are safe. Sooner or later, Jared will realize his life has changed for the better and he’ll come out of his shell.”

Elizabeth gave him a tentative nod and managed a watery smile. She wiped the tears from her cheek. “I’m sorry for the way I treated you all those years ago. Sometimes when Aldridge hit me, I thought it was punishment for what I did to you.”

Reese’s chest squeezed. “Whatever happened between us, Beth, Aldridge had no right to hurt you. Never believe he did.”

Elizabeth stared at her lap, and Reese clamped down on the ache he felt for her.

She had suffered so much.

And yet he couldn’t allow himself to feel pity. Once her betrayal had nearly destroyed him.

Elizabeth was back in his life, but he couldn’t allow her back in his heart.

T
he carriage rolled at a fast clip toward Bond Street. Elizabeth hadn’t meant to tell Reese about Aldridge’s cruelty to Jared, but now that he knew, she felt a sense of relief.

Whatever the future held, he deserved to know the truth—all of it. And soon she intended to tell him.

Soon—but not today.

“We’re almost there,” Reese said. “I want you out of those black rags and properly clothed as my wife.”

Elizabeth fought not to smile. “They are hardly rags. Mourning clothes are very expensive.” A little spark of mischief had her sighing. “But I suppose I have no choice. I did agree, after all.”

The corner of Reese’s mouth edged up as if he knew she was getting exactly what she wanted. He looked so handsome her stomach fluttered.

Tonight they would make love. She could barely remember the night she had made love with Reese in the back of the carriage, but she knew she had enjoyed it.

Trepidation warred with excitement. She wanted this to happen, wanted the chance to become a normal, healthy woman.

The carriage rolled to a halt.
Madame Brumaire, The Bond Street Modiste
read the sign above the door of Elizabeth’s chosen destination. Word had been sent ahead and they were greeted by Madame herself, a thin woman with silver-streaked dark hair and a slightly pointed chin. She ushered them to the rear of the shop, an elegant salon furnished with thick carpets, crystal-prismed lamps, and richly textured fabrics at the windows. A burgundy brocade sofa sat next to a matching chair in front of the design platform.

“Why don’t you sit here, my lord,” the older woman offered, guiding him in that direction. Reese sat down, looking not the least uncomfortable in his utterly feminine surroundings. Elizabeth couldn’t help comparing this man of confidence and authority to the shy youth he had once been. The man she had married was a far different person and despite her fears, she felt far more drawn to him now than she ever had before.

For the next several hours, Reese assisted her in her selections, all the while being pampered by a bevy of females who catered to his every need. All in an effort to divest him of as much of his money as possible.

Reese didn’t seem to mind. Leaning back on the comfortable sofa, he sipped a cup of thick, Turkish coffee, watching as she paraded in front of him scantily dressed in one sinuous fabric after another.

She’d always had good taste, if a bit on the conservative side, something Reese seemed determined to change. Insisting on a number of evening gowns in bril
liant colors—a gleaming sapphire taffeta, a rich scarlet velvet, a lush emerald-green satin, he gave specific instructions as to how he wanted them made.

“I’d like to see the bodice cut a little lower,” he told Madame. “My wife has a lovely bosom. I enjoy looking at it whenever possible.”

He tossed Elizabeth a heated glance that reminded her he would be doing far more than looking tonight. He would be caressing her breasts, touching her in ways that set her on fire, joining their bodies together and making them one.

Reese shifted on the sofa, his look hot and hungry, raking over her as she stood on the platform in front of him, her undergarments covered by little more than a swatch of pale blue silk. The fabric swirled round her hips and swept up over her breasts, but clearly there wasn’t nearly enough.

If she touched him, that hot look said, he would cross the distance between them, drag her out of the salon and straight to the nearest bed.

Her breathing quickened. With his dark, chiseled features, wavy black hair, and incredible blue eyes, Reese Dewar was one of the most attractive men she had ever seen. A memory arose of his tapered fingers cupping her breasts, his mouth settling there, sucking gently, making her squirm with pleasure.

For the first time, she realized how badly she wanted
him
.

“I believe we have enough for the moment,” Reese said to Madame Brumaire, drawing Elizabeth’s thoughts from the embarrassing path they had taken. He turned that fierce blue gaze in her direction and she could feel the heat of it even from six feet away. “Is there anything else you need before we leave?”

I need you
, she thought and realized to her horror it was true. Dear God, she couldn’t afford to need him. She had taught herself to depend on no one. She couldn’t afford to fall under Reese’s spell. Not with the lies that still stood between them.

She managed a shaky smile. “Gloves and hats,” she said, thinking he would probably be disinclined to indulge her in shopping any further and she could escape back to the safety of the house.

Reese was hardly a patient man.

Amazingly, he smiled. “Get dressed. We’re here. Let’s see it done.”

Returning to the changing area, she put on a simple dark green woolen gown Madame’s helpers had altered for her, one another woman had ordered but never picked up. Gaining a promise from the dressmaker to have at least half the new gowns completed within the next three days, she made her way out of the shop on Reese’s arm.

She wasn’t sorry to have abandoned the expensive clothes in storage at Aldridge Park. She wanted nothing to do with Edmund or anything that might remind her of him.

Making their way along Bond Street, Elizabeth led Reese into J. D. Smithwell where she purchased several pairs of kidskin gloves and left swatches of material for long evening gloves to match the ball gowns she had ordered.

They were passing by the front window of a glass blower’s shop when he paused.

“What is it?” Elizabeth’s gaze followed his through the window.

“I see something I want to buy. Come on, I’ll show you.”

He escorted her inside and she watched as he made his way to a shelf that held lovely, hand-blown crystal ani
mals. A unicorn stood on a glass shelf with one of its front legs lifted and its neck bowed.

“You think he’ll like it?” Reese asked.

Elizabeth’s heart swelled as she realized he meant to buy it for Jared. “It’s beautiful. He’ll love it, Reese.”

He bought the horse, and the owner boxed it up and tied it with a bright blue bow. Reese carried the box as they made their way along the street on their way to the Lily Pad, the millinery shop owned by Lily Dewar, Reese’s sister-in-law.

“Lily rarely works in the shop anymore,” Reese told her as they stepped inside. “She still makes hats, but mostly she works out of her home. Her assistant takes care of things here at the shop.”

And the girl, Tilly Perkins, slender with carrot-red hair, was extremely efficient. With her help, Elizabeth ordered feathered and beaded hairbands for evening, along with an array of bonnets and caps for other occasions.

“Just let me know what else ye need,” Tilly said as they headed out the door. “We’ll get ’em for ye straightaway.”

Elizabeth smiled. “Thank you, Tilly.”

“Just one more stop,” Reese said as they made their way back toward the carriage, their arms full of packages.

“I think I have everything. Do you need something?”

“No, you do.” Tugging her through the door of a narrow shop with mullioned windows, they passed frilly silk drawers, pink whale-boned corsets, silk stockings of every color, and a rack that held an array of expensive French nightgowns and negligees. She wanted to ask him how he knew the shop was there, but didn’t.

Reese was a man, not a boy. She thought again of the night ahead and hoped that she could please him. The
idea of him turning to other women left a sick feeling in her stomach.

Reese held up a lavender nightgown, no more than a scrap of satin trimmed with lace that would barely cover her bottom.

“Tonight I’d like to see you in this.”

Her cheeks burned. “But I couldn’t possibly…”

“You needn’t worry, love. You won’t have it on that long.”

Embarrassment washed through her. She couldn’t imagine herself in something so wanton. And yet she was his wife. If it pleased him, what difference did it make? And as she looked at the very naughty nightgown and several others he purchased, along with a frilly corset of the new style that closed up the front, she couldn’t help feeling a little thrill at the thought of wearing them for Reese.

Her cheeks were still warm as they left the shop, and as he handed her up into the coach, a little thread of heat settled low in her belly. Was it desire? She knew that it was and it thrilled her. Perhaps tonight wouldn’t be frightening, it would be magical.

Elizabeth held the thought in her heart as Reese settled himself beside her in the seat.

Several hours later, Reese sat at a wide, carved walnut table in the library. Outside the row of windows near the ceiling, dense gray clouds said a storm had begun moving in. Distant lightning occasionally brightened the panes, but it was too far away to hear thunder.

In front of him sat the box that held the crystal horse for Jared, a gift yet to be presented. He had suggested Elizabeth give it to him, but she had refused.

“It’s your gift. You should be the one to give it to him.”

Perhaps she was right. The boy needed a father and though he had never anticipated such an occurrence, Reese had taken on the job.

Lying next to the box were messages he had received that afternoon from London, notes that had been waiting when he had returned to Holiday House. One had come from Colonel Thomas suggesting a meeting at eleven o’clock in the morning. The other came from Royal, saying he and Lily had arrived in London and would be staying at the Bransford town house.

Reese had immediately replied, informing both men he would be in London on the morrow.

A noise overhead drew his attention. Reese glanced up at the ceiling as if he could see into the rooms above. Supper was over. Elizabeth had gone upstairs to bid good-night to Jared, then retired to her room. All Reese could think of was joining her.

He knew Elizabeth was ready. All day she had worn the look of a woman in need of a man, and tonight he intended to give her exactly what she needed.

Still, he was nervous. He wanted to make it good for her, wanted to be the man Aldridge never had been.

He had given her the week she had asked for. It was long past time their marriage was consummated. Tonight he meant to see it done.

He reached for his cane, rose a little stiffly to his feet. He and Timothy had been working his leg each morning, stretching the muscles and tendons. He was making progress, but it was a slow process. Tim had returned with Warrior, and Reese was determined to ride the horse again.

In the meantime, he had a far more satisfying ride ahead of him. A faint smile curved his lips as Reese left the library and headed for the stairs.

Dressed in the lavender silk nightgown Reese had purchased for her, Elizabeth stood in front of the cheval glass in her bedroom. She surveyed her full figure, grateful she had weathered her pregnancy so well. Just a few faint stretch marks and slightly fuller breasts. Her waist was small again, her stomach flat.

She looked good in the skimpy scrap of lavender, exactly the wanton Reese had wanted her to appear. With her black hair curling down her back and her legs bare, she felt feminine and womanly and desirable.

Her nipples hardened at the thought of his impending arrival. Her skin felt sensitive. The rasp of lavender lace felt erotic against her flesh. Soon Reese would join her, take what she had denied him, what she was now more than willing to give.

As she stared at her reflection, she trembled. She wanted this to be right for him, wanted to please him as a wife should.

She turned at the sound of the door opening between their bedrooms, saw Reese step into the room. He was wearing a dark blue dressing gown, a portion of his wide chest exposed in the V above his narrow waist. His bare feet sank into the thick Persian carpet and she could see a portion of his long legs.

He stopped just inside the doorway, his gaze scorching as he surveyed the lavender nightgown that barely covered her body. Heat rolled through her. And the strange yearning she had felt before.

“You look beautiful,” he said gruffly. “God, I want you.” He started toward her, limping only slightly, reached out and pulled her into his arms.

His mouth came down over hers, gently at first, but the heat was there and the banked fires flamed to life. The kiss turned hot and fierce, claiming her, devouring her, and heat roared through her body.

She felt dizzy and weak. Gripping the lapels of his dressing robe, she fought to stay on her feet. Her mind was reeling, her body on fire.

“Reese…” she whispered when he brushed her hair aside and began to kiss the side of her neck.

His answer was to slide his long fingers beneath the rough lace of the gown and curve them around her breast. Desire flared inside her. And a need so strong she swayed toward him.

“Reese…” she whispered again, surprised at the desperation she heard in her voice.

“Easy,” he whispered between nibbling kisses. “We’re going to take this nice and slow—even if it kills me.”

Amusement eased some of her tension, but when he slid the straps of the nightgown off her shoulders, pulled it down and lowered his mouth to capture the fullness of her breast, her whole body tightened and she pressed herself against him, arching her back to give him better access.

Reese suckled and tasted, gently bit the end, and heat roared through her.

She had to touch him, feel the texture of his skin. Untying the sash on his robe, she drew it open then slid her palms over the hard slabs of muscle, ran her fingers through his curly black hair on his chest.

She didn’t realize the nightgown had disappeared until she felt his hands cupping her bottom, drawing her into the V between his legs, letting her feel how hard he was. He returned to her lips, plundering them, taking her deeply and relentlessly.

Her nipples tightened and began to throb. She shifted restlessly, ran her fingers through his hair, felt the erotic rub of her breasts against his chest. Her body felt hot and tight; her heart pounded madly. She was wet, she realized as his hand moved lower and he slid a finger inside her.

Instead of pulling away, she helplessly pressed herself into his hand, wanting more, aching for something just out of reach.