by Connie Mason
He was indeed alive!
The next morning, still in good humor, Reed devoured his breakfast of eggs, ham, and fresh bread and butter. The entire household ate together, engaging in pleasant conversation.
“I know I’ve been eating like a horse, Fleur, and I’m concerned about depleting your funds,” Reed said. “Where do you get the money to put food on the table?”
Fleur placed her fork on her plate as she mulled over her answer. “Pierre knew bad times were coming. He gathered all the gold coin and family jewels he could get his hands on and insisted I sew them in the hem of one of my gowns and in the lining of my cloak, in case I had to flee Paris.”
She swallowed, as if it was painful to go on. “That day arrived far too soon. Pierre insisted I leave without him. For a while, Lisette, Gaston and I stayed with Antoine’s parents in a small village outside Paris, waiting for Pierre to join us. Not long afterward, I learned that Pierre had been seized with other noblemen and sent to the guillotine.”
“I’m sorry,” Reed murmured.
Fleur seemed not to hear. “I remained with Antoine’s parents but planned to leave before my presence put them in danger. We lived on the coins Pierre had provided for me without having to sell my jewels. Soon after, we moved to this cottage. It belongs to Lisette. It had stood unoccupied after her parents’ deaths. Andre contacted me shortly thereafter.”
“How did he find you?” Reed asked.
“I don’t know. But one evening I had gone alone to the village church to pray. Andre knelt in the pew behind me and began speaking in a low voice. No one else was in the church. He told me he knew who I was and asked if I’d be willing to help my homeland.
“At first I feared he had been sent by someone to trap me, but the longer he talked, the more I began to believe he actually was an English operative. He seemed to know everything, even the fact that Lisette owned the cottage. I didn’t even know about Devil’s Chateau until he told me.
“He laid his plan before me in that holy place,” Fleur continued. “Together we invented the Black Widow. Andre provides the coin we use to bribe the guards and support ourselves. You are the third Englishman I’ve taken from Devil’s Chateau.”
“Each time you enter the prison, it becomes more dangerous,” Reed warned. “It won’t be long before the warden learns about you and puts a stop to your activities. You could die, Fleur.”
“I appreciate your concern, Reed, but that day is far off. My work here is not done.”
Reed did not argue. He still had time to convince Fleur to return to England. “Do you have relatives in England?” he asked.
“I haven’t heard from her in some time, but as far as I know, the aunt I lived with before I married Pierre is still living in the country. When the time comes for me to leave, I will have somewhere to go. She has no other relatives, so I will inherit her home, but not for a good long time, I hope. She is a dear woman.”
Reed’s relief was heartfelt. At least Fleur had a place to live once she returned to England. She was also a countess, which increased her chances of finding a worthy husband.
But did Fleur want another husband? Or had she loved Pierre so deeply that she refused to consider another marriage? “You are too young to be alone, Fleur. You need someone to take care of you.”
Fleur bristled. “I do very well on my own, thank you. You needn’t worry about me, Reed. I do what I do for my own peace of mind. What is happening to France is horrific. Executing innocent people just because they were born with a title is unconscionable. In my small way, I am doing my part to combat this Reign of Terror.”
Reed knew that arguing with Fleur was getting him nowhere. The woman had a mind of her own; no one was going to convince her to leave France until she was ready. And then it might be too late. One thing was damn sure: When Reed returned to England, he intended to chastise Lord Porter for placing Fleur in the path of danger and keeping her there.
Reed continued to recover at an amazing pace. He had discarded the sling and found that his bones had healed perfectly. His arm was as good as new. He was putting on weight, too. No more hollows in his cheeks, and his muscle tone was improving.
He had begun a program of exercises to strengthen his body. He ran, hefted increasingly larger rocks over his head, and performed sequences of lifting and squatting. Were he at home, he would practice swordplay and boxing, but here he had to improvise. And it seemed to be working.
Fleur knew it was time to contact Andre about Reed’s return to England. Her patient’s health had improved dramatically during the weeks since he’d left Devil’s Chateau. With each passing day, Fleur became increasingly aware of Reed’s masculine allure. He was no longer the desperately ill man she had snatched from the jaws of death. Beneath his prison pallor was a ruggedly handsome face, perfect in its imperfections.
Reed’s silver eyes had regained their luster, and his laughter came easily. Fleur could tell he was growing bored with inactivity, that he thought he wasn’t healing fast enough, but the difference between the man he was now and the prisoner he had been was astounding.
Reed spoke often of Doctor Leclair, the man whom he had befriended in prison, and for Reed’s sake, Fleur wanted to help the doctor before it was too late. Accordingly, she summoned Antoine and Gaston, and together they planned the doctor’s rescue, even though instinct told her it was too soon to return to Devil’s Chateau.
Fleur said nothing to Reed about her plans and waited until he’d retired for the night before leaving in the cart with her two servants. Antoine had learned beforehand that Lucien would be on duty tonight, and she had enough money on hand to bribe him.
When Fleur reached the prison, it was not Lucien but a guard she did not know who confronted her.
“Who are you and what do you want?” the guard challenged.
“Names are not important,” Fleur murmured, aware that she had blundered badly. “I wish to visit Doctor Leclair.”
“Now?” He tried to peer through her veil. “It’s the middle of the night. Besides, no one in Devil’s Chateau has visiting rights.”
Fleur shook her purse of coins before the guard’s eyes. “Where is Lucien? He knows me. I pay him well to let me inside to . . . visit.”
Fleur feared she had raised the guard’s suspicion and found out she was right when the guard said, “Stay here while I summon the warden.” Apparently, this guard was above taking bribes.
The moment the guard’s back was turned, Fleur fled. “Go!” she hissed as she climbed into the cart.
“What happened?” Gaston asked.
“Something went wrong. Lucien wasn’t on duty. There was a different guard, and he grew suspicious. He has gone to fetch the warden. It was a mistake to come. I should have known it, but I wanted to surprise Reed.”
As they sped home, Fleur kept looking behind her to see if they were being followed. They weren’t. But when she walked into the cottage, she found both Reed and Lisette pacing the hall.
“Are you crazy?” Reed berated. “I heard wheels crunching on gravel and looked out the window in time to see you leaving in the cart. I couldn’t believe you would attempt another rescue so soon after my own. I sought out Lisette, and she admitted you were off to Devil’s Chateau. What were you thinking?”
Fleur pulled off her gloves and veil and handed them to Lisette. “Obviously, I wasn’t,” Fleur admitted. “Why aren’t you asleep?”
“I was, but I’m a light sleeper.” He glared at her. “Did Andre send you to Devil’s Chateau again? I intend to have words with Porter next time I see him.” He must have caught something in her face, for he said, “Something happened, didn’t it?”
“Go back to bed. I’ll tell you tomorrow.”
“You’ll tell me now,” Reed said, grabbing her arm and pulling her into the parlor, where a lamp had been left burning. “What happened?”
Fleur sighed and sank into a chair. “Lucien was supposed to be on duty, but he wasn’t. A different guard answered my
summons. I fled when he went to fetch the warden.”
Reed cursed. “I’m going to wring Andre’s neck. Who did he send you after this time?”
Fleur stared down at her hands. She knew Reed was going to be angry when he learned whom she had gone for.
“Who, Fleur?”
“Doctor Leclair, but it wasn’t Andre’s idea. I wanted to rescue Leclair for you. I know you are worried about him.”
Reed thrust his fingers through his dark hair, mussing it beyond redemption. “I’m sorry I asked you to help him. Clearly I wasn’t thinking. I didn’t mean for you to put your life on the line again. What do you think will happen now?”
Fleur didn’t know. “Antoine has already contacted Andre to arrange for a ship to take you to England.”
“What about you?”
“Nothing will happen to me. No one in the village besides Doctor Defoe knows I exist.”
Reed shook his head. “That’s not true. Lucien and every prisoner at Devil’s Chateau know you exist. You are the subject of much speculation. Your life is in danger.”
Fleur stood. “I’m tired, Reed. We’ll discuss this tomorrow.”
When she strode past him, Reed reached out, snagging her around the waist and bringing her into the circle of his arms. “I worry about you, Fleur. How can I turn my back on you when I leave?”
“You won’t be turning your back on me. You’ll be taking your rightful place among the ton. We should be hearing from Andre concerning travel arrangements within a fortnight.”
As much as Reed wanted to return home, he didn’t want to leave Fleur. He had grown closer to her in the past few weeks than to any other woman. “I care about you, Fleur.”
“Don’t say anything you don’t mean, Reed. I suspect that you are grateful and that you probably confuse gratitude with caring.”
His arms tightened around her. He stroked her hair, her cheek, reveling in the way she made him feel. He felt himself harden and knew it was due to this special woman in his arms. The depth of his desire surprised him. An inexplicable need to have her in his bed assailed him. He’d had dozens of women, but none made him feel as Fleur did.
Was it gratitude that made him want Fleur so much? He thought not, although he was indeed grateful. No, his need for Fleur possessed every sense, every emotion. Eager to taste her again, he lowered his head and kissed her. Sliding a hand down her bodice, he deftly undid several buttons, until his fingertips encountered her warm skin.
Reed heard the sudden intake of her breath as he searched beneath her corset and curled his fingers around her breast. Right now Fleur was the only real thing in his life. He had clung to her while he was as weak as a mewling babe, but now that he was well and strong, he wanted Fleur in ways that had nothing to do with his healing.
Fleur broke off the kiss and stared up at Reed. “You’re making this difficult for me, Reed.”
“Come to my bed, Fleur. I need you.”
He took her mouth again before she could deny him, deepening the kiss, tasting her with his tongue, savoring her with slow relish. A rustling noise followed by a gasp alerted them that they were no longer alone in the parlor.
Fleur pulled away from him, quickly fastening her buttons before turning around to face Lisette.
Lisette cleared her throat. “Forgive me, Fleur. You weren’t in your chamber when I went in to help you prepare for bed, and I grew worried.”
“You weren’t intruding, Lisette. I was just having a word with Reed before retiring. Come, you can help me undress.”
Reed watched helplessly as Fleur made a hasty exit, dragging Lisette with her. Frustrated, Reed had no choice but to seek his own bed.
Fleur managed to evade Reed during the next two days, making sure she was never alone with him. Reed thought he understood why. She was as attracted to him as he was to her and was fighting against involvement.
Reed had just finished lunch in the cozy kitchen, making idle conversation with Fleur and Lisette, when Antoine raced into the house.
“Countess,” Antoine cried, skidding to a halt in the doorway. “You and monsieur must hide. Quickly! Soldiers, they come.”
Reed leapt from his chair. “They’re coming here? How do you know?”
“I went to the village this morning to purchase meat from the butcher when half a dozen soldiers entered the village. They were asking questions of everyone. They wanted to know about inhabitants of the village and outlying cottages. I lingered nearby while the villagers gave directions to several cottages in the vicinity. This cottage was one of them.”
Gaston had arrived in time to hear Antoine’s warning. “How soon will the soldiers arrive, Antoine?”
“Soon. There aren’t many homes in this area, for the countryside is not conducive to farming or raising livestock. You and monsieur must hide immediately, Countess,” Antoine urged.
Reed had many questions but decided to save them for later. He recognized panic when he saw it. “Shall we hide in the woods?” he asked.
“No,” Fleur said. “We’ve prepared a better place. Follow me.”
“We will hide all evidence that you and monsieur ever existed,” Lisette said, running from the room.
“This way,” Fleur said, leading the way down the hall. “We’ve planned well for this day, even though we hoped it would never arrive.”
“Your decision to go to Devil’s Chateau so soon after my rescue was ill-advised,” Reed chided.
At the end of the hallway they came to a nondescript wardrobe that Reed had paid scant heed to. When Fleur opened the door to the wardrobe, Reed balked.
“This is ridiculous. We can’t hide in there. The search will be a thorough one; we are certain to be found. Hiding in the woods would be better.”
“As I told you before, we are well prepared for this day.”
To Reed’s astonishment, Fleur pushed aside a few garments hanging inside and lifted a trapdoor in the floor of the wardrobe, revealing a gaping, dark hole.
“Come on,” Fleur urged as she stepped down into the dark void. “Be careful, there are four steps leading down to a small enclosure beneath the house where we can hide. Hunch over—you’re too tall to stand erect—and be sure to close the wardrobe door and pull the trapdoor down behind you.”
Reed had no choice but to obey. He shut the wardrobe door and groped his way down the steps. He reached up and pulled the trapdoor into place, enclosing them in total darkness.
“There is space for two to sit comfortably down here,” Fleur said.
Reed felt her hands on his arm, guiding him down. His breath seized, and he began to tremble. This small, damp enclosure reminded him too much of the unending days spent in solitary confinement at Devil’s Chateau, in a black hole just like this. It had been his punishment for failing to divulge the names of his fellow operatives in France.
“What’s wrong?” Fleur asked.
Reed could scarcely catch his breath. He felt as if a heavy weight were pressing down on his chest. Panic stuck its talons into him and refused to let go. He began sweating profusely.
“Reed, what is it? Are you ill?”
“I . . . don’t do well in tight, closed places. The memories . . . I’m sorry, I can’t stay here.” He started to rise.
Fleur caught his arm. Her hands followed his arm up to his shoulder, grazing his neck, until she found his cheek. Her other hand joined the first, cupping his face. Mesmerized, Reed felt his fears ease when she brought her mouth to his and kissed him.
Chapter Four
For a few wild moments of pure joy, Reed forgot where he was. Darkness receded; he was no longer in a black pit associated with pain and suffering. Fleur’s kiss became a lifeline to reality, pulling him toward the light, where his own instincts took over.
Tugging her against him, he deepened the kiss, exploring the sweetness of her mouth as if it were his only link to sanity. He cupped her breasts in his hands, dimly aware that today she wore no corset to hinder his exploration. She caught his g
roan in her mouth, squeezing his arm as if to warn him that even the tiniest noise could bring disaster down upon them.
Reed heeded her implied warning, though it was difficult. He wanted to do things with Fleur that were impossible in the limited space of the cramped hole. But that didn’t stop him from kissing her, touching her, caressing her sweet womanly curves. As long as he kept the darkness at bay, he could survive the terrifying memories.
And one day soon, Reed vowed, he would have Fleur naked beneath him, bringing them the pleasure they had both denied themselves. His once-dormant cock jerked and stiffened. Reed rejoiced at the knowledge that he was still capable of making love to a woman.
Suddenly Fleur went rigid against him. “Listen,” she whispered against his lips.
Reed went still, listening as Fleur directed. Muted voices, accompanied by the stomp of boots and the soft shuffle of leather slippers alerted him to imminent danger.
The boots stopped before the wardrobe. Reed could hear the voices clearly now.
“What is this?” a man asked in a commanding voice.
“A wardrobe, monsieur,” he heard Lisette answer.
“What is it doing out here?”
“My brothers moved it here. There was no room for it in the bedchamber.”
Reed clutched Fleur tightly when he heard the wardrobe door open and someone rummaging about directly above them. He scarcely dared to breathe; each tiny breath he took sounded like thunder in his ears. Their combined heartbeats pounded so loudly, he feared the sound would give them away.
With Fleur’s kisses no longer distracting him, reality intruded, making him aware once more of where they were. The dirt walls of the black pit in which they were hiding began to close in on him. His heartbeat accelerated; sweat drenched him. If he didn’t get out of here soon, he feared he would go mad. He should have taken his chances in the woods. Now Fleur would know what a coward he was, how being entombed in dark places roused him to panic.