Page 8 of The Lady’s Sweet Revenge (Safely in Scotland #3)
A fter sitting with Harlow as they’d written their letters, she’d grown tired and Reese left her room to let her rest.
After he’d noticed not only the way her dark lashes rested on her milk and cream cheeks, but the enticing curves of her body, he knew he needed to write to one of his relatives as well.
The only relative he had left. The one who had betrayed him just a few weeks ago at a London ball.
His mother.
For Harlow was not going to be leaving his home for some time and was in need of a chaperone. One that could assure everyone in the ton that she’d been here with Harlow the entire time.
His first choice would have been Lily, the Duchess of Granton, or Theodore Stonecliff herself, Thea Hayes, the Countess Ainsley. But since both were in a family way, thanks to his devilish friends, they would not be up for travel.
He would need to depend on his mother.
It was important that Lady Harlow’s reputation remain intact. And not because he didn’t want her ruin to be cause for a forced arrangement between them. Or not only for that reason.
Harlow seemed to have had a change in perspective.
As many do when they are faced with the possibility of death, she’d looked upon her life and identified those areas where she held regret.
Specifically in allowing her brothers to scare her off from any potential match that might have given her happiness.
She now seemed set on righting that wrong, and Reese wanted to see that nothing that happened here in Scotland would put her newfound resolve in jeopardy.
Her brothers could only be pleased that her anger for retribution was focused solely on their uncle rather than them. At least for now. And since Reese had use for this plot to lead to the capture of Captain Merrick, Reese needed Harlow to trust him.
Providing a chaperone seemed like one way to do that.
Besides, his mother owed him a great debt after her diabolical scheme. It was with that thought in mind that he penned a short letter.
Dear Mother,
Please come to Slains Castle forthwith and plan for an extended stay. I appreciate you do not particularly relish returning to Scotland, but your presence here is most important. Know if I do not see you in a fortnight, all funds in London and Sussex will be cut off until your arrival.
Breckenridge
He wondered if it sounded a bit too harsh, but then decided he didn’t care.
He had one final letter to write. But this one took much longer for it needed to be encoded for secrecy. It had been some time since he’d needed to employ such a skill, but he managed to convey the message.
Make haste to the Inverness. Captain Merrick is heading there with the Zephyr.
Sealing all the letters, he hired a post boy to take them to London as fast as possible.
They would surely arrive before Merrick’s letter of ransom.
Reese assumed the man would still send his demand even when he learned Harlow had jumped overboard.
Likely, he would assume she’d drowned and it wouldn’t change his plans if she were dead.
Reese had waited a long time to bring Merrick to justice.
Rubbing his thigh where the wound still ached on occasion, Reese remembered the blinding burn when he’d been shot by Merrick. Reese wished he’d be the one to bring Merrick back to London and see him hanged, but he would have to trust the job would be done by the other agents.
Reese sighed. Merrick had been so close to ending him. This time Merrick would be apprehended. And Reese would have to be satisfied with the small part he played in that outcome.
It seemed his guest was right about the cleansing power of vengeance. For Reese felt better already.
He peeked into Harlow’s room again to find her still sleeping. Belle raised her head and tilted it to the side as if asking him if it was time to go for a walk. Walking along the beach was the only thing that lured the beast from Harlow’s side.
“Keep watch, lass,” he told the dog and closed the door feeling unsettled. He found he enjoyed talking with her and when she slept so often, as was expected of someone healing, he didn’t know what to do with himself.
When days ago he’d been content to be there alone and read or see to the grounds, now he was wishing Belle’s movements would have woken his guest.
“Are you a’right, my lord?” Mrs. Garrison asked as he passed by Harlow’s room again.
“Aye. I’m fine.”
“Did ye need something?” She looked at him and then looked at the door pointedly.
“Nay. It’s just I hadn’t seen Belle and wanted to make sure she was in with Lady Harlow.
” As lies went, this was not the best, but it was the best he could come up with on such short notice.
Any proper housekeeper would mind her own business and accept his reasoning with a nod and a wish for a good day. But of course not his housekeeper.
Mrs. Garrison’s eyes widened. “If the dog isna at your side, she is surely with the lady. Belle’s barely been away from her but to eat her dinner.”
“Yes. Well. Now that that’s sorted, I’m free to return to my study.” Where he should have already been to avoid such a conversation.
“Aye, she’ll likely not wake until morn. She needs rest to heal.”
Of course, he knew that. He’d just thought as much. He didn’t need his housekeeper to explain the way injuries worked. She knew well enough of his experience with such things as she’d been the one to tend to him when he’d been shot.
Instead of arguing, he simply turned and went to his study, closing himself in and taking a deep breath.
“The lass is not for you. She’s been through a horrific ordeal and is recovering from an injury. She surely doesn’t need you sniffing after her,” he said aloud to himself so there could be no mistaking his intensions and what he thought of them. “You are a safe port in a storm. Nothing more.”
He went and poured himself a dram of whisky so at least then he’d have a reason to be talking to himself. Thanks to a few too many drinks, it was where he ended up falling asleep, awaking just as dawn approached.
It was too early for her to be awake so he took his time getting dressed and eating. Harlow’s breakfast was taken to her room as she was still unable to leave her bed. And, unable to stay away, he headed in to see her.
She was once again attempting to get out of bed. With a wince and gasp of pain she relented and sat back on the mattress where Mrs. Garrison set the tray. Harlow seemed almost angry with the limb that refused to support her weight as if it had failed her in some way.
He didn’t know the woman well, but already he’d gathered she wasn’t one for sitting still for very long.
He was much the same way. And he disliked not having anyone to talk with.
Which was the reason he had arrived so early in the day.
He liked that they had that in common. But then not many people would like being forced to lie about.
Once she was settled again and staring longingly at the window, he knocked and entered her room.
“How are you feeling today, Lady Harlow?”
“Better, thank you. Though I do wish I could get out of bed.”
He smiled with the pleasure of having guessed correctly, though it was a silly thing.
He hoped he would be correct in the reason for his visit that morning. She may not be able to get around very well with her injury, but he knew how they might pass the time.
“ The Case of the Rook’s Tower ?” She said as he held up the book as he stepped closer. “I’ve not heard of it.”
“That’s because it only comes out next month. I have an early copy from the author herself.”
He chuckled again when Harlow narrowed her eyes in disbelief.
My, but her brothers must have deviled her something fierce to have caused such an inherent doubt about everything.
He wished he could have been there to protect her from them.
Ironically, they would likely wish to be here to protect her from him as well.
“Shall I read it to you?” he offered.
“We should take turns,” she countered. “It’s only fair.”
“Very well, let us begin.”
They spent the rest of the day reading to each other. As he listened to her, he found the low, almost raspy quality of her voice alluring in a way he shouldn’t feel about an injured maiden in his care. He piled that onto the growing list of infractions he was guilty of since she’d arrived.
She was lovely despite her long, dark hair hanging in a simple braid over her shoulder, and the much-too-large dressing gown engulfing her luscious form. She was not so thin as the debutantes he’d encountered in the ballrooms this year.
She was muscled from physical activities the ton likely wouldn’t approve of. But he preferred it. It was clear to him she did not spend all her time indoors reading Stonecliff novels.
Twenty-six proposals in her first season.
It was no wonder. Had he been looking for a wife, he might have been in line as well. And then it would have been twenty-seven refusals.
Thinking of rejected proposals stung the small wound still healing from Miss Sheridan. While he knew the two of them would not have made a happy match, he couldn’t help but consider how the only women eager to marry him were those whose families were desperate for funds.
None of them truly liked him. Or had even spent more than a few moments to get to know him. Was that all he offered of value? Money?
No. He knew well enough it wasn’t just the money. His title was in high demand as well. The rank of countess attracted the wealthy but lower ranking merchants’ daughters.
He blamed Finn and Shay for his sudden desire to find more than just a marriage. He now wanted a happy match as they had. And if he was not expecting love as his friends found, he wanted friendship and respect. And if not those, at least someone willing to sit and read with him.
He looked at the woman whose eyes were growing heavy as she read and thought he understood why she had not accepted anyone’s proposal. She was hunted for the same reasons. Not for herself, but for the money her dowry afforded or the thrill of securing a duke’s daughter.
They were alike in that way. Both avoiding interest, while feeling as if no one really wanted them.
When her words drifted off, he again watched her sleeping for longer than he’d ever admit. He stood and slipped the book from her hands to set it on the stand next to the bed. Then picked up the candle and left the room, leaving her in darkness so she might have a restful sleep.
In his own room, however, sleep did not come so easily. There were many things to think about.
If he were to go to Inverness, he might have the chance to face the man that nearly killed him.
The scoundrel who had forced Reese to relive the horror in his dreams was only a day’s ride away.
Up until he’d been shot, Reese had lived in the foolish disbelief he was invincible; he was now well aware of the blinding truth that it wasn’t so.
That everything could end in a fleeting moment.
Of course, he’d known of young men who’d met their ill-timed fate early in life, though he’d lost no one close to him in that way.
For the most part, Reese always assumed death came for those who had roamed the earth for their set amount of time and then faded off into the peaceful bliss of the unknown.
But now, Reese was shaken by the abruptness of how quickly it could all come to an end. Too soon. And he blamed Captain Merrick for it. The man was deadly and was a burden to the Crown, but it wasn’t solely Reese’s loyalty to the Crown that had him seeking vengeance on this maritime menace.
He could have another chance to face the man and bring him to justice.
He’d done the right thing to alert the authorities.
They would take care of Merrick while Reese—now a civilian—was able to stay at Slains and take care of Harlow.
No one would question why he didn’t see to the duty himself.
He was an earl and these messy affairs were left to agents, not noblemen.
Still, he wondered if it should be him that brought the man to justice. Would the night terrors relent if he personally saw the man swinging from the end of a rope? If he could see the matter dealt with, he’d have no reason to be continually haunted by the monster.
He might have gone if he wasn’t needed at home to see to Harlow.