Reese's Bride. Kat Martin

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Reese's Bride - Kat  Martin


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the desk. Reese dragged in a deep breath and forced his mind back to the present. The ledgers sat open in front of him. He forced himself to concentrate and began to skim the pages. He would have to conquer his painful past and concentrate on the future if he meant to fulfill his obligations and make the fallow fields of Briarwood productive again.

      Reese intended to see it done.

      With her young son, Jared, walking close beside her, Elizabeth entered the magnificent entry of the huge Georgian mansion, Aldridge Park, her late husband’s country estate. The property and all others entailed to the earldom, along with Edmund’s vast fortune, now belonged to Jared, the recently titled seventh Earl of Aldridge.

      The sound of footsteps echoing on the black-and-white marble floor drew her attention and Elizabeth looked up to see her sister-in-law, Frances Holloway, also dressed in black, float into the entry to greet them.

      Frances’s lips flattened out in disapproval. “I expected you home hours ago. Where have you been?” She was a thin woman, with high cheekbones and a long, narrow nose. Her greatest asset was her strength of will. Frances managed to turn things to suit her purpose no matter how difficult they might be, probably the reason her husband, Mason, had married her.

      “I told you Jared and I were going into the village.” Elizabeth had given up any attempt at being civil to Frances some months back. The woman disliked her and had since the day she had delivered Edmund a son, making it impossible for Mason to inherit the title. “I had some shopping to do. It took longer than I expected.” And lately she hadn’t been feeling quite well. It felt good to be out in the fresh air, out of the house.

      But that, like the length of time she had spent, was none of Frances’s business.

      “Jared’s tutor has been looking for him. We don’t want him getting behind in his lessons.”

      Elizabeth’s arm went protectively around her small son’s shoulders. “He’s going outside to play for a while. Then he can do his lessons.”

      Jared looked up at her, his eyes big and dark. “I’ll do them now, Mama. Marcus and Benny prob’ly won’t want to play with me, anyway.”

      “But—”

      Frances swept in like a tall black raven and scooped Jared off toward the stairs. Elizabeth wanted to tell her little boys needed to do more than just study, but her head was pounding and she couldn’t seem to get her thoughts in order. And her son was already climbing the sweeping staircase, Frances right beside him. She watched them ascend a second set of stairs and disappear into the schoolroom.

      “So you’re home.” Mason Holloway’s voice snaked across the entry and Elizabeth turned. “I hope you enjoyed your shopping.”

      Just a year younger than Edmund, Mason was a tall, formidable man, heavy through the chest and shoulders, with brown hair and a thick mustache. Not unattractive and yet there was a coarseness about him, and a tone of false sincerity that made her distrust him. A little shiver crept down her spine as his eyes ran over the swell of her breasts and unconsciously she took a step back.

      “All in all, it was quite a pleasant outing,” she replied, forcing herself to smile. “A lovely little dress shop just opened. Mrs. O’Neal has some very fine fabrics.”

      “You should have told me you wished to go. I would have given you an escort.”

      Having Mason anywhere near her was the last thing she wanted. She had suffered Edmund’s company far too long, and her brother-in-law was even more loathsome. Mason Holloway had squandered every dollar he had inherited. He would have been destitute had Edmund not provided for him.

      But her husband was nothing if not loyal. In his will, he had left Mason and Frances a life estate on their rooms in the east wing of the mansion, as well as permission to stay in his town house in London. Mason and Frances were there, whether she liked it or not, and there was no way to get rid of them.

      “I appreciate the offer,” she told Mason, “but I had Jared to keep me company.”

      He scoffed. “Jared is only a boy. A woman of your position shouldn’t be traveling alone.”

      She hoisted her chin, but the motion made her dizzy. She reached out to catch hold of the stair rail, hoping Mason wouldn’t notice. “I was scarcely alone. I had a coachman and a pair of footmen with me.”

      “That may be true, but next time, I shall accompany you.”

      Not if she could prevent it, but Mason was a difficult man to oppose and lately she couldn’t seem to find the will to fight him. She had begun to feel unwell some weeks back, suffering from headaches and nausea and an occasional bout of dizziness.

      It was part of the reason she hadn’t moved into Holiday House, the mansion on the outskirts of London she had inherited from her father, along with the rest of the fortune he had provided for her. She had wanted to leave but she was uncertain of her health and sure her in-laws would follow. If she tossed them out, she and Jared would suffer the scandal.

      Still, a scandal was better than what might happen if she stayed.

      As she stared at Mason, the suspicion that had begun to build over the past few months expanded inside her. If she was out of the way, Mason and Frances would become Jared’s guardians. They would control the vast Aldridge fortune.

      The thought of her young son left alone and vulnerable and growing even more withdrawn made her stomach roll with nausea. She was all that stood between Jared and the ruthless people who cared nothing for him and only wanted his money.

      Sooner or later, she had to do something.

      Her headache worsened, pounded viciously against her skull, and again the dizziness struck. “I am afraid you will have to excuse me. I discover I am not feeling all that well.”

      Beneath his mustache, a sympathetic smile curved Mason’s lips. “Perhaps a nap will help.”

      Turning away from him, she started up the staircase, but Mason caught up easily and fell in beside her, taking her arm to guide her toward the landing.

      “I hope you’re feeling better by supper,” he said as they reached the door to her suite.

      “I’m certain I will be.” But she wasn’t sure at all.

      Fear for her son returned. As soon as she felt better, she would make plans to leave. She closed the door and prayed she could see it done.

       Two

      Jared sat in a carved, high-back chair at the head of the long, polished mahogany table in the state dining room. Elizabeth sat to his right in one of the other twenty-six chairs, Mason and Frances to his left. Tall candles burned in the huge, gaslit, crystal chandelier hanging above the table, and the gold-rimmed plates were of finest Sevres porcelain.

      It was too formal a setting for a shy little boy like Jared. But Frances had insisted, since it was his seventh birthday, and the issue didn’t seem important enough to Elizabeth to suffer an argument.

      The meal was as lavish as the setting: a rich vermicelli soup, roasted partridge with pecan stuffing, lobster in cream sauce, an array of vegetables and fresh baked breads. Dessert was an assortment of cakes and tarts and a fancy custard in the shape of a swan.

      It should have been a horse, Elizabeth thought. Jared had always loved horses.

      “All right, boy. Time to open your presents.” Mason snapped his fingers at the pair of footmen who stood along the wall. They rushed forward, gifts in hand, and set them on the table in front of her son.

      Jared looked at the gifts and beamed at Elizabeth. “They’re all so beautiful, Mama.” It was like her son to appreciate the packages as much as the gifts inside. A lovely silver-wrapped box with a huge blue satin bow sat on top of a larger gift covered in bright red velvet-flocked paper decorated with a red feathered bird. Her own gift was the smallest, but beautifully wrapped in dark brown


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