by Connie Mason
Reed didn’t have the heart to deny them the use of the mansion since he didn’t intend to stay there himself. He much preferred his bachelor quarters, where he could keep his private life private. He had purchased the townhouse when Jason announced his intention to wed Helen. The money had come from his mother’s estate and had been willed specifically to him.
“You may use the London mansion whenever you wish and for however long you please,” Reed said. “I will be staying at my townhouse. As for escorting you and Violet about, I may be available upon occasion but not as often as you might wish. Begin your preparations for the move immediately, for I intend to leave as soon I’m sure things are running smoothly here.”
Reed excused himself and sought the privacy of his study. He had no stomach for Violet’s fawning, Helen’s foolishness or Duvall’s scowls. Reed sat at the desk and penned a note to Mr. Dunbar, requesting his presence at the estate office at nine o’clock the next morning, then sent a footman to deliver the message.
That done, Reed leaned back in his chair and thought of Fleur. Was she well? Was she staying away from Devil’s Chateau after the last fiasco? A knock on the door dragged him from his thoughts.
“Come.”
Helen entered. “May I have a word with you, Reed?”
“Of course. Please sit down and tell me how I can help you.”
“It’s about Violet.”
Reed frowned. “What about Violet?”
“Staying with me in the country has put her social life on hold. She’s an attractive woman, in case you haven’t noticed. She also has a sizeable dowry. You could do worse.”
Reed’s eyebrows shot up. “I’m not looking for a wife, Helen.”
“Your grandmother will have something to say about that. Jason and I weren’t fortunate enough to produce an heir, so now it’s up to you.”
“I just returned home; don’t push me. I imagine I will wed one day, but not for a long time. I’m not in my dotage yet. As for Violet, if she’s as good a catch as you say, she will find a husband before the Season ends. Is there anything else?” he asked dismissively.
Helen rose and took her leave, her face flushed with displeasure. Alone again, Reed penned a note to his grandmother, intending to send it off in the morning. The old lady was probably chomping at the bit to see him. Porter would have already told her that her grandson was alive. Reed could well imagine Grandmamma lining up this Season’s debs and heiresses for him to look over.
The following morning, Reed was informed that Gallard Duvall had left shortly after dawn. That suited Reed just fine. He ate breakfast and arrived at the estate office for his meeting with Mr. Dunbar at precisely nine o’clock. They spent that entire day and the next going over the books, which Reed found in excellent order. The day after that they rode the width and breadth of the property, stopping to talk to the tenants along the way.
The neat little cottages appeared in good repair, and the gardens and orchards were ripe with the fruit of the workers’ labor. Reed was pleased. Jason had been a good landlord; he hoped he could live up to his brother’s standards.
It took two more days to settle everything at Hunthurst and the outlying farms to his satisfaction. When Reed announced his intention to leave for London the following day, the women proclaimed themselves ready to accompany him. Reed packed only a few items of clothing to take with him. Everything else he intended to order new from London tailors.
The morning of their departure, the Hunthurst coach had been brought around and the boot and top loaded with the ladies’ hatboxes and trunks. The ladies themselves came out of the house wearing their best black traveling costumes and feathered hats and climbed into the coach. When Reed brought his horse around, Violet asked, “Aren’t you going to ride inside with us?”
God forbid. “I intend to ride Ebony to town. The distance isn’t great. I will ride ahead and make sure everything at the town mansion is in order when you arrive.” He saluted them with his riding crop. “Have a good journey, ladies.”
Before the ladies reached the Hunthurst mansion in London, Reed had assured himself that everything was as it should be. All the old servants still held the same positions, which pleased him enormously. Apparently Gallard Duvall hadn’t attempted to exert his authority in London.
Reed didn’t wait around for the ladies to arrive but left for his townhouse immediately after he’d greeted the servants. Since his townhouse was just around the corner from the family mansion, Reed didn’t have far to travel. He tied his horse to a hitching post, walked up to the front door and stopped. He had no key. All his personal belongings had been confiscated when he was apprehended. Though Reed knew that the townhouse was probably empty and it wouldn’t do any good to knock, he did so anyway.
The summons was answered by a tall man with long white sideburns and a sparse patch of hair on top of his head. He beamed from ear to ear when he saw Reed standing before him.
“Welcome home, my lord.”
Chapter Seven
Stunned to see his employee and friend, Reed pumped his hand and clapped him on the back. “Updike, good God, man, you’re still here!”
Updike gave an affronted snort. “Where else would I be, my lord?”
Updike threw open the door, and Reed stepped inside. Everything was just as he had left it. Dear Lord, it was good to be home.
“Truth to tell, Updike, I didn’t expect you to be here. It’s been over a year. Everyone seems to be of the opinion that I am dead.”
“Not I, my lord. I have great faith in your ability to survive even the worst of circumstances.”
“What about the staff? Have they found employment elsewhere?”
“Mrs. Peabody remains, and I’ve managed to keep one maid to help her.”
“However did you continue to pay them and yourself?”
“You left money in your cashbox, if you recall. We’ve managed well enough.”
“So I did,” Reed remembered, “but a year is a long time.”
“You’ve paid me well over the years. I supplemented the cash you left with my savings to keep the townhouse running properly in your absence.”
Reed shook his head. How could he reward such loyalty? “I’ll make it up to you, Updike.”
“Your chamber is in readiness for you. Lord Porter sent word several days ago that you had reached England and would be returning to London soon. Mrs. Peabody and I didn’t know whether you would be staying here or at the Hunthurst mansion, but we went ahead and prepared the townhouse for your homecoming anyway.”
“Come to my study, Updike. I’d like you to join me in a celebratory drink. You don’t know how close I came to turning up my toes.”
Reed led the way to the study, stopping a moment in the open doorway to inhale the odor of leather, tobacco and furniture polish. The room was the most comfortable in the townhouse, complete with leather chairs, mahogany desk, fireplace, and walls lined with books.
“I’ll get the brandy straightaway,” Updike said, moving off to the sideboard.
Reed walked to the window and stared out at the fog rolling in from the Thames; the fire blazing in the hearth was most welcome. “How did you know to build a fire?” Reed asked. “Even I didn’t know when I would arrive in London.”
“I’ve built a fire in here every day since Lord Porter informed me of your return.”
He handed Reed a snifter of brandy and lifted his own in a toast. “To your safe return and continued good health, my lord. Long live the new Earl of Hunthurst.”
Reed sank into a chair, lifted his snifter and sipped appreciatively of the amber liquid. “Sit down, Updike.”
“You’re an earl now, my lord. It wouldn’t be proper.”
“It’s proper if I say it is.”
Updike perched on the edge of a chair. “May I ask what happened to you during your long absence?”
Reed contemplated the remaining liquid in his snifter. “I will speak of it just this once, Updike, but never again. The rea
son I am telling you is because there may be times when I do not seem myself and cannot be reached. Would you believe that not too many weeks ago I prayed for death?”
“You, my lord? Never!”
“It’s true, Updike. The only thing that kept me alive was pain. Since you are my valet, you will see me unclothed and realize I have suffered indignities no man should have to suffer. There were days when I would have welcomed death.”
Updike went white. “My lord, how ghastly for you. Were you in some kind of prison? How did you escape?”
“It was called Devil’s Chateau. That I left there alive was a miracle. I cannot tell you the specifics, even though I trust you implicitly.”
Reed pictured the first time he had seen Fleur in the guise of the Black Widow. Even then he knew she was someone special. How special he did not know until she whisked him away from Devil’s Chateau and nursed him back to health.
“Think no more of that terrible time, my lord,” Updike said, rising. “Please accept my condolences on your brother’s death. And might I add that you will make an admirable earl. I shall inform Mrs. Peabody that you have arrived. I’m sure she will be thrilled. If you’re hungry, she can put together a cold collation for you in no time.”
Reed grinned, happy to drop the subject of his incarceration. His spirits were on an even keel right now, and he wanted to keep them that way. “A light meal would be welcome. I’ll eat in my bedchamber. Since there are no other servants available, I will make do with a jug of hot water instead of a full bath. Tomorrow you can visit the employment agency and hire a full complement of help.”
Reed left his study moments after Updike and climbed the stairs to his chamber. Nothing had changed, he thought as his gaze roved over the hunter green drapery and bed hangings. The dark, masculine furniture had been polished to a high luster and a fire danced merrily in the hearth. Home had never felt so good.
There came a knock on the door. “Come in,” Reed called. Mrs. Peabody entered the chamber, followed by a maid carrying a tray.
“Welcome home, my lord,” Mrs. Peabody said, beaming and executing a clumsy curtsey. Reed caught her and steadied her. “We never gave up on you, Lord Reed,” the woman declared. “Updike, Mary—” she indicated the blushing maid—“and I never lost hope. Will you remain home now?”
“My duties as earl will keep me in England, so I doubt I will be leaving again, though I will miss the excitement of my former work.”
“ ’Tis grateful I am to have you home safe.” Her concerned gaze swept over him. “Enjoy your food, my lord; you look like you could use a few good meals. You’re far too thin and pale. The offering tonight isn’t grand, but I promise you’ll have better tomorrow.” She beckoned to the maid. “Come along, Mary, we’ve a great deal to do to prepare for the arrival of new servants.”
Reed ate the excellent cold collation, consisting of slices of ham, roast beef and cheese, accompanied by crusty bread and crisp apples. Reed ate his fill and had just dropped the apple core on his plate when Updike arrived with the hot water.
The valet cast a jaundiced eye on Reed’s apparel. “Shall I help you undress, my lord?”
“I can manage on my own tonight, Updike. Are the clothes I left behind still in my wardrobe?”
“Indeed, my lord, and might I say they are finer than what you are wearing.”
“I didn’t have much choice, Updike. You wouldn’t have let me in the front door had I been wearing the clothing I was given for my return to England. I’ve decided a new wardrobe is in order to accommodate my thinner physique.”
“Very wise of you, my lord. Good night, then.”
Reed washed and prepared for bed, exhausted from his long ride to London and the excitement of being home again. He knew he would have to move into the London mansion one day, but he wasn’t ready yet. He fell asleep immediately, aware that he had much to accomplish on the morrow. Visits to his grandmother and Lord Porter would be his first order of business.
Across the channel in France, Fleur stared into the dark night from the front window of the cottage. She missed Reed, as much if not more than she missed Pierre. In the short time she had known Reed, he had become important to her. So important that she had let him make love to her. When she had first begun working for Lord Porter as the Black Widow, she had vowed to keep her life free of romantic entanglements. And that meant remaining aloof from the men she rescued.
But Reed had been different. Something compelling about him had attracted her from the moment of their first meeting. She admired his determination to recover despite his damaged soul, physical injuries and emaciated body. He’d inspired her, made her care for him deeply, so deeply that she forgot her pledge to keep her emotions in check.
Would she ever see Reed again? she wondered. She seriously doubted it. Since the day the cottage had been searched, she had felt the hammer of doom hanging over her. Fleur seriously doubted she could continue as the Black Widow much longer, and she intended to relay that message to Andre soon. Perhaps she could move to another location near a different prison and continue her work.
“What are you thinking, ma petite?” Lisette asked as she joined Fleur.
“I am thinking of many things, Lisette.”
“Ah, let me guess. Is Monsieur Reed one of them?”
“Perhaps. He asked me to go to England with him.”
“Why did you refuse? Did he mention marriage?”
“We both know I cannot marry him. He needs an heir, and I cannot give him one. I can better serve England here.”
“It’s time to leave France, Fleur, and we both know it. You feel it here—” she touched her heart—“just as I do. You risk much by remaining.”
Fleur turned away from the window. “Come sit with me, Lisette.” Both women sat facing each other before the hearth. “There is something I must do before I leave.”
“What is that, ma petite?”
“I must rescue Doctor Leclair from Devil’s Chateau. The man means a lot to Reed, and I want to do this for him. After that, I will consider leaving.”
“ ’Tis too soon!” Lisette cried, clearly upset. “The authorities are suspicious. Taking one more man from Devil’s Chateau might mean the end of you.”
“I have to attempt it, Lisette. You have my permission to leave, if you wish. I don’t want to place you in danger. I’ll need Antoine and Gaston for the rescue, but they, too, will be free to leave once Leclair is out of prison.”
“Leave you?” Lisette said, aghast. “Never!”
“Very well, then. I shall prepare to make another visit to Devil’s Chateau. And I promise you this, Lisette, it will be the last time anyone at Devil’s Chateau sees the Black Widow.”
Reed awakened early and rang for Updike. The faithful valet helped him dress. Though the clothing hung on his slim frame, at least it was in step with the current styles. Mrs. Peabody served him a hearty breakfast of eggs, ham, kidneys, tomatoes, toasted bread, jam and strong tea, just the way he liked it. Reed worked in his study until ten. Up-dike had already departed to visit the employment agency when Reed left to call on his grandmother.
Lady Martine’s dignified butler let him into the house. Reed handed him his hat, an item necessary in town though Reed disliked wearing one. Reed cooled his heels in the drawing room while the butler went to inform his mistress of Reed’s arrival.
“My lady will see you in her sitting room,” the butler announced when he returned. “Please follow me.”
The dowager countess of Hunthurst was reclining on her chaise longue when Reed entered. Aside from having acquired a few more wrinkles, she hadn’t changed much in a year. He strode to her side, bent and kissed her wrinkled cheek.
“Dear boy,” she said, dashing a tear from her eyes. “I feared I would never see you again. Our family was in such disarray after Jason’s death. I did everything I could to bring you back to me.”
“You saved my life, Grandmamma,” Reed said. “If not for you, I would have died in a pl
ace so dark and evil I do not wish to think about it, much less discuss it. I can tell you, however, that I was betrayed.”
“Betrayed!” The dowager searched his face. “I can see the suffering you endured reflected in your eyes. No need to tell me about it, dear boy.” She made a place for him on the chaise. “Come sit by me. Tell me how you escaped from the hellish place you described.”
Reed looked away. Silence stretched between them. Then he said, “An angel came for me. She took me away even as I wished for death.”
The dowager’s delicate white brows shot up. “Does this angel have a name? I would like to reward her or at least thank her.”
“Thank Lord Porter instead. His operatives found me.”
“I can tell that talking about this is painful, dear boy. I’m just thrilled to have you home. Jason’s sudden death was such a shock, coming so soon after your disappearance. I didn’t know how the family was to go on. You are our last hope for an heir.” She gave him a stern look. “Mind you, there will be no more traipsing about the world on dangerous missions. If you hadn’t told me about Lord Porter and your work for the government before you left, I wouldn’t have known whom to contact concerning your safe return. I threatened to cut off Lord Porter’s private parts and feed them to the hounds if he failed to find you. I was ready to go to the king himself, if need be.”
“You certainly ruffled some feathers.” Reed chuckled. “And thank you for not mentioning my weight loss and paleness. I’m quite aware of how I look.”
“It’s nothing a few weeks of good English fare can’t cure. What are your plans?”
“I must report to Lord Porter as soon as I leave here. He should know that someone within the organization is a traitor. If time permits, I intend to visit my tailor.”
“I was about to suggest that very thing. Now that you are home, you need to concentrate on finding a wife and setting up your nursery. There’s a commendable crop of debs this year. You could have your pick of them.”