Reese's Bride. Kat Martin
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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