Page 24 of The Lady’s Sweet Revenge (Safely in Scotland #3)

F ondness? Reese had watched as Harlow hurried to her room silently and closed the door quietly. No one had witnessed her return. It was as if it had never occurred. But it certainly had.

Unlike her, he’d not lost his virginity this night, but he could say for certain he’d never before felt the way he had when he’d lain with Harlow. He might have associated the feeling with her innocence, but he didn’t think it was that as much as it was just… her.

He knew he would think back on this evening for the rest of his life and he would not think upon it with mere fondness .

He didn’t think he’d ever felt so put out by a single word. And not even an offensive word at that. He’d never known such an inept description. The word lacked the emotion needed to encompass what had happened in his room. For he had been overwhelmed.

He fell back on the bed looking up at the canopy above his bed and remembered the sounds and touches they’d shared. The heat of her body and the smile on her lips. Those verdant eyes locked on his when she let desire claim her.

She’d made him feel passion in a way he’d never felt before. A way he’d never describe as fondness .

The next thing he knew he was opening his eyes into the room filled with sunlight. Had he slept through the night? He guessed it had been fairly late when she’d left his room, but still he’d not woken with night terrors as was his way since Merrick had shot him on a filthy dock in London.

For a moment as he looked around he wondered if he’d dreamt her coming to his room the night before. But he need only to hold the pillow she’d lain on to catch the scent of her hair.

Thinking of another possible sign of what transpired the night before, he threw back the bedspread and looked down on the wrinkled, but snowy white, linens.

Harlow had been the only virgin he’d ever lain with, but he was to understand there was… evidence. He recalled the moment he’d entered her body. The look of surprise on her face. She’d clearly been a maid, but perhaps being older… He hoped whomever she wed would not expect proof of her virtue.

Thinking of her marrying someone stirred unease in his chest, just as it had the night before when she spoke of a child.

He’d always thought of marriage and children as something to be avoided. A duty. But now… perhaps he’d not allowed himself to think of marriage as anything other than something his mother was forcing upon him.

Like a lad, he’d obstinately refused simply because he was being told to do it. He’d made jests of his friends for falling into the trap. Yet he knew just by watching them with their wives that it was he they felt sympathy for.

They were happy when he was anything but.

Until last night with Harlow.

He rang for his valet so he might dress quickly, the sooner to get down to breakfast and see her again.

*

Harlow hadn’t been sure what to expect that morning. After a night filled with such joy and pleasure, she’d come down to the breakfast room to find the countess alone at the table. Reese nowhere to be seen.

Harlow knew the earl did not wish to marry, but he was also a gentleman who would see what they’d done the night before as a cue to ask for her hand again.

She was surprised he hadn’t already offered.

Perhaps he understood she wished to marry someone who truly wanted to marry her.

Not someone offering because of an obligation.

Regardless, if the countess knew, she would demand they marry.

So it was of the utmost importance the countess didn’t suspect anything between them.

Harlow considered her options for a moment longer than she liked. Of course, she wouldn’t do anything to force Reese’s hand, even if he had already offered it before freely. She wouldn’t use what happened between them to trap the earl.

They’d discussed what he would do with a wife who trapped him and she surely didn’t wish to be set aside in the country while her husband took other lovers.

He hadn’t said he would, but he likely thought himself above such retribution, while Harlow knew well how a person wronged would do nearly anything to see the matter avenged.

Harlow was not so silly to think she would find a grand love affair, but she at least wanted the man who offered for her do so out of free will.

“Are you not hungry, Lady Harlow?” the countess asked. “Or do you find fault with the cook?” The woman frowned—something she seemed fond of doing—at her plate. “Only the Scots would serve meat with a side of…meat for a meal.”

Harlow looked down at her own plate which contained bacon and ham as it had every morning and smiled.

“It isn’t even a different meat. Ham and bacon.” The woman rolled her eyes. “They are nearly the same thing. I thought the country to be filled to bulging with sheep last I visited, but it appears there is no shortage of swine. I shouldn’t be surprised.”

“You do not care for Scotland, my lady?” Harlow asked only to make conversation. Reese had mentioned a few times how seldom his mother came to Scotland.

“My son didn’t lament on my shortcomings as a mother for refusing to visit this cold, damp place of my own accord?”

“He mentioned you haven’t been here in some time but that you were happy to have been invited.”

The countess hmphed as well as any Scot Harlow had met so far.

Harlow wasn’t sure which part of her statement the woman disagreed with. Likely that she had not been invited, but ordered, to come.

“Does the earl sleep so late frequently?” the countess changed the topic so quickly Harlow blinked before answering.

“No. He’s usually down before I arrive, and I’m an early riser. Belle needs to go out and since she stays in my room I get up to let her out.”

“I see. I thought I heard someone wandering about at an ungodly hour. I didn’t note the time.”

Harlow swallowed a bit of ham and nearly choked. Had the woman heard Harlow returning to her room after she’d spend a large part of the evening in bed with the woman’s son?

The room suddenly took on the temperature of the sun as Harlow took a sip of ale to clear her throat.

“I didn’t hear anything.”

Harlow spent much of the meal worrying Reese had fled the castle to get away from her and what they had done.

She was relieved when Mrs. Garrison slipped into the room and gave a nod to the countess, assuring her the earl was still abed sleeping soundly.

Apparently Harlow hadn’t been the only one worried over the earl that morning, though for a vastly different reason.

With her worries cast aside, the woman moved on to other topics. She asked if Harlow was good with needlepoint and Harlow was able to assure her she was. Though she didn’t care for it, or sitting still in general, Harlow’s mother had made sure her only daughter was taught such tasks.

“Do you play an instrument?”

“Yes. The pianoforte is my favorite, but I also play the harp.”

“Hmm. Good. What about dancing?”

“Of course.”

“How is your French?”

“ Très bien, madame ,” Harlow answered before adding, “ e così è il mio Italiano. ” Assuring the woman that her Italian was also adequate.

“Remind me, how many siblings do you have?”

“Five older brothers. I am the youngest.”

The woman fairly purred with satisfaction as she looked over Harlow, most likely trying to determine if Harlow had the fortitude to bear five sons before a daughter as is apparently the desired number of children.

“Do you ride?”

“Yes. And hunt.” Which did little to impress the countess. Harlow also knew how to climb a tree and many other things that would not be considered ladylike, so she kept them to herself.

“Flower arranging?”

“Some. We have an orangery at our home in Lancashire, and grow some lovely blooms over the winter months. Nothing like the gardens here, which are exquisite.”

The woman frowned and Harlow guessed her error was in enjoying Scotland more than was acceptable.

“Why do you dislike Scotland?” Harlow asked.

“In truth, I’ve not seen much of it. What I don’t care for is this estate for after I was wed, I spent years here away from everything civilized.”

Harlow swallowed down the laughter that rose from the woman’s dramatics.

She found the castle quite civilized indeed.

It boasted an impressive library filled with all topics of books from science and the complete Stonecliff collection to gothic novels and art.

The house wasn’t decorated in the height of fashion, nor was it many years outdated.

Though she guessed that was more Mrs. Garrison’s doing than the earl’s.

The stables were modernized, and the steps that traversed the cliff to the shore were quite an undertaking.

In fact, Harlow hadn’t thought of anything she missed from town. With the exception of her parents, and possibly even her brothers, Luke and Thomas, more than the other three.

“Why have you not married?” the woman asked.

Harlow thought perhaps she had brought the intrusive question about herself after asking about the woman’s dislike of Scotland.

Since turnabout was fair play, she decided to answer after casting a glance at the door, hoping Reese would choose that moment to enter and put an end to this uncomfortable discussion. Where was he?

“I did have offers,” she started.

“I know. Twenty-four offers rejected your first Season.” The woman shook her head and Harlow repressed the desire to defend herself.

“If you know that, then you must also be aware of the size of my dowry.”

“I believe everyone in the King’s realm is aware of the size of your dowry. Disgustingly excessive as it is.” But then she tilted her head to the side as if she had figured it out on her own. “You don’t wish to marry someone who only wants your money.”

“Correct. As you so elegantly put it, the amount of money a man would get for taking my hand in marriage is disgustingly excessive. And it has lured many men to our drawing room clutching tight to their proffered posies and a hope that I will put their finances to rights.”

“Is it true you’ve had proposals by mail from America?”

Harlow was not aware anyone knew of such things, but then the countess had said she knew her mother.

“Yes. But that is not counted in with the two-dozen other offers I refused.” Harlow sighed.

“I hope you do not think me conceited. In fact, I’ve recently wondered if maybe some of the men may have had a sincere interest in me, while I disregarded all of them.

I don’t expect love, but I don’t wish to be used simply for money and my ability to produce an heir.

It may seem silly, but I’d at least like to enjoy spending time with my husband. ”

The woman looked as if she didn’t plan to answer, but eventually after a few moments of silence she relented with a nod.

“I told your mother to do something about the size of the dowry for it would only attract the worst of the ton, but she said your father refused to lower the amount because he wanted to ensure you were comfortable.”

“Money doesn’t make one comfortable. What am I do to with money on a chilly night?

” Harlow worried the woman thought her terribly immature.

She knew money was important. She wasn’t a na?ve girl who didn’t understand that all her worldly comforts had been acquired with money.

It was just that she knew a person had other needs that money couldn’t satisfy.

“What of my son?”

Harlow nearly gasped. Did she know Reese was keeping Harlow plenty warm of late?

“Excuse me?” Harlow choked.

“You said he proposed to you.”

Harlow wasn’t sure what she should say. When she waited too long to speak, the other woman continued.

“I would assume, given the circumstances of how you came to be here, that my son—honorable as he is—offered a sincere proposal, not just a way to save you from any possible scandal?”

“Oh. I’m sure he was sincere.” Or would have been if Harlow had only given him a chance to speak. But no, she’d cut in too soon not giving him any real consideration. If only she could go back to that moment and make a different choice.

“But you rejected his sincere offer?”

“I wouldn’t say it like that. It wasn’t a rejection as much as releasing him from a duty he felt honor-bound to offer.”

“I think it would be a smart match.” She sighed and looked out the window while once again Harlow looked at the door as if to conjure Reese. It didn’t work.

One thing that was not so bad was the pleasure of knowing this formidable woman thought Harlow appropriate for her only child, but then she recalled the great lengths the countess had gone to in order to see the earl married. To anyone. She didn’t seem to be very selective.

It was not so much a matter of Harlow being a good match for her son, but that she was of suitable breeding and unmarried. Still, Harlow couldn’t argue that she and Reese had already formed the type of connection she had wanted with a husband.

When she heard the heavy footsteps coming closer to the room, she turned toward the door in expectation. Finally, he had come to save her.