And now that her grandmother was there, it would set them on a road of no return. Hell, he’d be playing right into her hands. He’d either have to wed her or be responsible for her ruin, and although he’d dearly love to teach her a lesson, he wasn’t ready for either of those alternatives.
But could he protect her from his enemies if he wasn’t in the same house? They’d tried to kill her and the rest of his household, twice. Who was to stop them trying again?
On the other hand, maybe her moving next door would be the best protection. His enemies had no reason to harm the neighbors, when it was him they were after.
After considering it, he decided that though he wouldn’t be moving next door with her, he wouldn’t tell her about getting his memory back either. He had the feeling that if he told her, she would make herself scarce. He’d lose the chance to get the full explanation.
Grudgingly, he admitted he’d also lose the opportunity to spend time with her as his real self.
Anger and confusion may reign in his brain, but his body knew precisely what it wanted. It wanted to be deep inside of Tally. It craved completion of what they’d started so many times.
Christ! She was probably a virgin!
Ah hell and damnation! Was he going to have to wed her to bed her, after all?
* * *
“There’s something havey-cavey about this whole moving business,” her grandmother grumbled, stomping up the steps and into the rented house. “I trust you haven’t put me upstairs, dear. You do recall I have trouble with my old knees?”
Eyeing the sprightly way her thwarted grandparent had practically skipped up the stairs to the front door, Tally suspected there was nothing really wrong with her Grandma’s ‘old knees’. She simply liked to know what was happening at all times, especially when it concerned her grandchildren, and what better place to observe things than on the ground floor!
“I remembered. Come, I’ll show you to your room.” She walked along the corridor leading to the back of the house. “Here is the perfect room for you. Spacious and quiet, and overlooking the garden, away from the street noise.”
Her life might be on the brink of disaster, but she almost laughed aloud at her grandmother’s moue of disappointment. This was not what the dear tactician had expected. She wanted to be front and center, with a room as close to the entrance hall as possible, where she could keep an eagle eye on all the goings-on. This unusual room was tucked away from the hustle and bustle of the house on the ground floor.
It had come as a pleasant surprise. The same space in Reed’s house was a study, which she’d had to convert into a bedroom for Mr. Mason, so he could remain on the ground floor, relatively close to the entrances and exits. And where he was, thankfully, going to remain! He was no keener on being in the same house as her grandparent, than she was to have him there.
In this house, that modification had already been made and she’d known immediately it was just the right spot for her Grandma.
“It’s large enough, that’s true.”
She watched her grandmother searching for some excuse as to why this room would not do. “Luckily, it has already been altered into a bed chamber, so I knew it had to be yours. It even has a dressing room where your maid can sleep.”
So there!
“The owner must have re-fit the house for someone like you, who can no longer climb stairs.” She hid her grin at her grandmother’s quickly concealed look of outrage. “Now, I’ll leave you to get settled. I have to see about organizing the rest of our things.” She went to the door, ready to leave. “Should you need anything, please ask your maid to fetch someone, because all the help will be busy going to and fro between the houses and may not be available to respond to the bell-pull.”
Her grandmother might think she had triumphed by summarily moving in with her grandchild, but there were ways of making her pay for that presumption.
The older lady’s lips twitched. She knew she was being hoist with her own petard, even if it was being done gently.
Good!
Tally lost her smile as soon as she left the room. What was she going to do when Reed showed up with his things and demanded to move into her bedroom!
Her only recourse was to tell him the truth. The whole truth. That was what she’d been trying to do earlier, but then Grandma had arrived and he’d run off as if pursued by bandits. Not that she was eager to confess, but now she had no other choice.
How he was going to react was what frightened her. Would he understand her reasons for the deception or would he be so angry, he’d denounce her publicly?
* * *
“I’ll be glad to see the end of this mission.” Reed had other preoccupations on his mind, like his counterfeit wife. And he wished he felt completely himself again. He was still a mite sluggish and disoriented from the disturbing weeks he’d just spent.
He and his two colleagues were sitting around a table at Sylvester’s, a coffee house where the Brotherhood of Spares — of which Jace, Max and Reed’s brothers were members — often met for drinks or for informal meetings in one of the private rooms upstairs. They had commandeered one of the private salons tonight given the confidential nature of their discussion.
This time, Jace and Max swore they had taken extra precautions not to be followed, although this place was perhaps too well-frequented with people who knew Adley, for him to feel comfortable about showing his face here.
“Losing one’s memory makes a man reflect on what’s important to him.” Reed wouldn’t usually admit to such thoughts, but he trusted both these men with his life, so why not with his innermost thoughts. This amnesia business had changed him. He would never have been so free with his innermost thoughts before this.
“So does marriage,” quipped Jace.
Reed speared him with a look.
“I feel the same,” Max admitted. “It’s been a long time out in the field this time. I need a good rest… preferably combined with some good recreation.” He winked and grinned.
It’d been a good six years since Reed felt as carefree as Max. Maybe he never had. In spite of his not-entirely-merited rakehell reputation years ago, he’d always taken life a little more seriously than many of his peers.
It might have something to do with the fact that he was the heir and not a spare, like Jace and Max were. He’d known he would one day have to step into his father’s shoes and run the earldom. Lord, he hoped he’d be wise enough to never become as autocratic and manipulative as his father was with his offspring.
He clapped his hand over his eyes.
“What’s wrong?”
“I’ve just realized that my father was in the park the other day.”
“He didn’t recognize you?” Max sounded shocked.
“I was dressed as ‘Mr. Manfred’.” He had given names to all his disguises, much to the hilarity of Jace and Max, who soon joined in the fun and named theirs too.
“He sat down beside me on a park bench and talked to me, staring at me the entire time like he was seeing a ghost.” He laughed aloud. “In the end, just as I was about to leave, he told me I was the dead spit of his uncle. But it’s only just now that I realize I was speaking with the Earl.”
Jace nodded. “Manfred is a good disguise.”
Heavy footsteps climbing the stairs and laughter traded with clients below signaled the arrival of his brothers.
“I trust we’re finished with our plans, gentlemen, because that din approaching tells me my brothers have arrived.”
“In that case, I’ll be off home. I’d stay if I thought I could be any good at keeping you safe, but I’ve gone too many hours without proper sleep.” Jace stood. “I’ve got the Chief’s best posted both inside and outside of here to protect you. We don’t want the Horde succeeding at this late date. They will follow you home and join the others already stationed outside both houses. From now until you deliver those documents, you won’t be left alone for a minute.”
Max also got up. “I’ll go
too.” He gave a devilish grin and sauntered off ahead of Jace. “Need sleep badly…” He turned his head back over his shoulder and gave them a devilish grin.
Jace and Reed exchanged droll looks. “Somehow, I doubt he intends to sleep alone,” Reed said.
“He’ll never change.” Moving out from behind the table, Jace gripped Reed’s shoulder firmly.
Unfortunately, he picked the wrong shoulder... Again! Reed bit off a bellow, but he didn’t feel like explaining he’d been shot, at the moment. Jace would sit back down and begin interrogating him! So he gritted his teeth and swallowed his curses.
“Glad to see you back to yourself,” Jace said before following Max. “I’ll set up that meeting with the Chief the moment he gets back.”
Reed watched Jace and Max banter with his brothers and clap them on the back as they passed them on their way out. He was reassured to hear that next door was being included in the guards’ duties. He’d explained about Tally and the others moving, so the perimeter of protection was being expanded to encompass them too.
His brothers approached with wide smiles on their faces, though he detected a touch of sheepishness in their glances too. What mischief had they been up to?
“Finally!” Chase gripped him firmly on the arm. “We’ve been wondering what happened to you.”
At this rate, his sore shoulder was going to fall off! He winced, but bore it without complaint. Admitting he’d been shot would only succeed in getting his brothers riled on his behalf.
“I’ve just spent almost a week with amnesia.”
“What’s that?” Francis asked.
“I hit my head so hard, my memory was knocked right out of it.”
“Completely?” Chase’s voice rose in amazement.
Reed smiled wryly at his brothers’ shocked looks. “I’m afraid so. I only recovered it this morning. Most of it, I hope!”
It wasn’t often he got to see his younger brothers struck dumb. He paused to enjoy the rare moment and was exceedingly grateful he was getting the chance to do so. What would his future have been like if his memory had never resurfaced?
A sudden twist of Francis’ lips warned him his brother was rapidly recovering from the shock. “Not much of a loss, I’d say.”
Chase threw back his head with a gust of laughter, while Reed cast an I-expected-as-much-from-you look at his youngest brother. Life was getting back to normal and it felt good.
“Grab a seat and I’ll tell you all about it.”
“And where does the beautiful Mrs. Leighton fit in?” Chase asked, plunking himself down across from Reed.
“That’s none of your business. And I’d really appreciate you not mentioning her name to anyone.”
“Hey!” Chase thrust his hands out, palms forward, in a defensive posture. “We’re your brothers, we wouldn’t do anything to cause you trouble.” He glanced uneasily at Francis. “Not knowingly.”
Reed’s instinctive reaction was ‘Great, what had they done now?’ “That doesn’t sound reassuring.”
“Does she now know your real name and that you have a title?” There was pure mischief in Francis’ grin. “Because she didn’t when we met her.”
Reed realized they were aware of much more of the story than he’d thought.
“Since I’ve been going as Gordon for six years now, I’d say, probably not.”
Ah… It hadn’t occurred to him earlier but, if that was so, she definitely couldn’t have been angling for his title. Unless his father was involved (and he didn’t really believe that this time), there was no way for her to know who he was.
“Let’s change the subject. How would you feel about doing a little bit of investigating for me? What do you know about Edgar Traubridge?”
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Tally paced nervously in Reed’s drawing room that night, waiting impatiently for his return. She had to tell him everything! Surely he would never have said he was going to move next door with her if he had his memory back, as Foster suspected! But she had to ensure that didn’t happen. Especially now that her grandmother was living there.
“When did you plan to tell me that you were the one who shot me?” She jumped, her hand to her heart. She hadn’t heard a thing. His greeting completely knocked the wind out of her sails.
Oh my god, he knew! Dismay and shock struck her in one fell swoop. Had he remembered or had someone told him? Only she and Foster knew and she doubted he would ever tell, even under pain of death. “How do you know that?”
“I remembered.”
Two words, two simple words that changed everything. So Foster was right. Her heart sank down to the soles of her feet.
He answered her next question before she even asked it.
“Everything.”
“I see.” And just when she’d steeled herself to confess!
The crackle of the fire suddenly sounded overly loud in the drawing room. “That’s why I’m here tonight. I was going to tell you everything,” she said quietly. It sounded lame even to her own ears.
“Not that you have any choice, but... it’s a little late, isn’t it?” His mocking laughter had a nasty bite to it. He had a look of disbelief and disillusionment… or was that disgust?... on his face. “How convenient,” there was derision in every syllable. His scorn made her face burn. “Confess after I tell you I’ve recovered my memory.”
He was furious, frightening her a bit.
Of course he’s angry, you ninny! She’d allowed him to believe someone else had shot him. She’d let him think they were married.
“Why didn’t you tell me sooner?” His stern tone held no forgiveness, no understanding.
“I… I… I’ve been trying to tell you for the past two days, but you’ve been avoiding me.” Incensed, suddenly, that he was making her feel like a sinner, she said through clenched teeth, “I wasn’t the one who was climbing through a strange woman’s bedroom window in the middle of the night.”
“My bedroom window.”
How caustic his tone was!
“I know that now.” Had he no sympathy for her dilemma? “But I only found that out today, at the lawyers’ office.”
“Why did you do it?”
She shivered at the ice in his voice. “Shoot you? I was scared and was trying to protect myself.”
“No, not that. Although at times it hurts like hell, the shooting I can understand.”
She felt weak with relief. That had been her worst fear; that he would want to punish her, drag her in front of the law courts.
“I meant why did you pretend we were married?”
“Oh.” Her heart did a crazy flip. “Doctor Graham jumped to that conclusion on the first night and you followed his example. Then, when I explained that you were a stranger, he bade me not to tell you. He said it could ruin your chances of ever regaining your memory.” She paused, searching for the right words. “He insisted.”
“Surely you can find a better excuse than blaming the doctor!” he jeered.
“I’m telling you exactly what happened.” He had always seemed so fair. It surprised her that he wouldn’t listen to her explanation. “He assumed you were my husband and called you Mr. Leighton. I wanted to correct him immediately, but... you seemed so relieved, I didn’t have the heart to do it. And later, once we left your bedroom, when I told him I didn’t know you, he remained adamant you shouldn’t be told.
He hissed with annoyance.
“I wanted to tell you, but he said it could do irreparable harm. You might never get your memory back. I was torn. But you were so lost without your memory, I reluctantly agreed. It didn’t seem right to risk my need to be honest against your chance of a full recovery.”
She saw she was finally getting through to him. “If you need proof, go ask the doctor. He will support my story.”
“Because of your beautiful brown eyes?” he taunted. “Or because he is involved in this deception with you?”
“I’m glad you think my eyes are beautiful,” she retor
ted. “But why would the doctor want to deceive you?” She was getting angry now. “I’ve courted ruin trying to do the right thing by you. I certainly don’t deserve your mockery.”
“I’m sure you thought the reward would be worth it.”
“What reward?” Had she missed something? “If you mean a heavenly one when I meet my maker, you’ll have to forgive me for hoping that recompense is too far off to be of much comfort now.” If she’d been less upset, she might have laughed at the idea. She began heading for the door, anxious now to get away from this fuming, sneering man she’d thought she’d come to know and love.
“I mean the one where you get to marry a future Earl and become a countess.”
He must be joking! But he sounded too serious for that to be the case. She halted. Keeping her back to him, she said, “Because that is what you think will happen now?”
“Well, isn’t it? Isn’t this where you insist that you’ve been compromised? Where you tell me you’ll go to my father and threaten to ruin the family name if I don’t wed you.”
She shook her head sadly. So this was how it was going to end?
Her silence seemed to anger him more. “Or do I have it wrong? It’s the other way round. My father is the one who set you up here. To trap me into marrying you,”
Maybe it was better this way. This spiteful, nasty-tongued Reed was not the one she’d learned to admire. If he could believe this of her, she had no business caring for him. She didn’t bother trying to defend herself. She continued moving toward the door. “Believe what you will, but there was no plot to deceive you. I never met the doctor prior to that night, nor have I met him since,” she said. “If you ask him, he’ll tell you the truth. He has no reason not to.” She shrugged. “Although, I never told him you had climbed in the window or he might have reacted differently.”
The Viscount's Counterfeit Wife Page 38