Page 32 of The Lady’s Sweet Revenge

“Nay. I’m still awake. Sorry.” He continued reading until the end of the chapter. When she didn’t say anything, he looked over to find her sleeping. He took a moment to study her features. The way her perfect bow lips parted slightly. The way her dark lashes caressed her cheeks. That raven hair pulled back in a braid. Though like her, the locks had fought their way free throughout the day.

His gaze continued down her body, taking in each hill and valley to end with those small feet, just peeking out from under the edge of her skirt.

With a sigh, he stood and went to her. He should wake her. It was one thing to use her slumber to stare at her, but yet another to use it as a way to pick her up so he could hold her body against his. He reasoned that she would be too tired to climb the stairs to her room, and this would be the most expedient way to get her where she needed to be. But as soon as he settled her against him, he was cursed with the truth.

He wanted her. Physically, of course, for she was a beautiful woman, but that was not the extent of his desire. He wanted her smiles and laughter. He wanted her thoughts and stories. He wanted her.

“Bloody hell.” He settled her on the bed and as Belle took her post at the woman’s side, he left. In the hall, he’d hoped to regain control over his feelings but it seemed they would not relent.

He spent the first hours trying to sleep and failing. He was restless with thoughts of Harlow. Not just the surprise of how much fun he had had with her, but hearing her tell her story about her time on the Zephyr had called up memories of his moments with the vicious Merrick.

Thinking of what might have happened to her if she’d not escaped made him shift restlessly. To think he’d never have known her.

Soon he was back in that alley along the wharf where a French spy was expected to arrive soon enough. They would intercept the man—or woman—who arrived for the meeting and bring them in for questioning.

They hadn’t expected Merrick to show up. He’d been a person of interest in a smuggling case as were many captains of sailing vessels at the time. But they hadn’t realized until that night that he dealt in more than just silks and wine. He sold secrets.

When they had the spy apprehended, Reese had turned his attention on Merrick, running after him with a few other agents following. But Reese was closest. He’d not expected the man to suddenly stop running. Not until he’d seen the glint of the metal when the pistol was raised in Reese’s direction.

He remembered seeing the flash in the dark night when the gun was fired. In the bright light he saw the smoke from the charge. And then he felt the thud as if he’d been hit by a herd of elephants as he fell to the damp wood of the dock.

Heat burned through him as he reached down for his leg, expecting to put out a fire. But there was no flame. His hand was instantly coated in thick, warm blood.

His vision began to falter as he looked to where Merrick had been. To his surprise he found the man still standing there. Nay, he was closer now. With a smoking weapon in one hand, he pulled the twin of that pistol from his coat and aimed it at Reese.

Past the opening of the barrel, Reese saw the man close one eye with an evil smirk on his lips. And then the loud bang of the second shot.

Reese knew then he was having a nightmare, for that night Merrick had not fired a second shot. The shouts of the other men coming closer had forced him to tuck the unfired weapon back in his coat as he ran off.

But it had been a close thing, and Reese knew that second shot would have been fatal.

He gasped for air as he woke to the bright room. He was covered in sweat, his hair and bedclothes wet. Somehow despite having been asleep, he was more exhausted than he’d been before he’d laid down the night before.

He called for a bath and took his time washing and getting ready for the day. As was often the case, it took some time for him to be able to push away the fear left by the dream.

Things could have ended so differently for him that night. But he was alive and he’d at least been able to aid in Captain Merrick’s capture. Albert would find the man in Inverness and capture him. And when the man was brought back to England to face his crimes, Reese would make sure to have a front row spot for his hanging.

And when the man’s body had finished twitching, Reese hoped he’d finally be able to sleep soundly again.

*

Harlow woke with a start. She’d been dreaming, as was common since her escape from the Zephyr, but instead of her imagination providing images of Merrick chasing her as hands grabbed at her, it was a different man and the hands touching her were not that of an enemy.

She’d dreamed of Reese. She’d recalled the scent of him, leather and the sea, as she’d slept. She’d noted it many times before, but yesterday they had worked closely together while painting and digging in the dirt. Sometimes their heads touching. It was easier to remember the way he’d smelled when her air had been filled with his scent.

She remembered the warmth of his hands as he’d taken the book from her, but also in all the times they’d touched for some reason or another. But in her dreams he’d touched her purposefully in places no man had ever touched her before.

She’d dreamed of him kissing her. And while she lacked the factual elements to make a true reproduction, the details her mind conjured up were quite pleasing. For whatever reason, she’d dreamed he’d tasted like Cook’s lemon biscuits. Perhaps because they were her favorite.

She thought of the way he’d looked at her earlier that evening. She loved walking in the gardens with him and talking about the antics they got up to in their childhood. But the cozy evenings when they read to one another was peaceful in a different way than she’d ever known.

She was often busy, moving about to find something to occupy her restless energy, but when she was just lying on the settee listening to the low timbre, and soft brogue of Reese’s voice, she felt calm. It was a place where she could happily belong.

She wondered if she’d been hasty when she’d rejected his proposal. She knew well enough he’d offered simply because he was a gentleman, playing her steadfast savior and nothing more. But still, perhaps if she’d accepted, they could have found happiness together. She certainly would have been happy with Reese.

She let out a breath and squeezed her eyes closed.

While the dream was pleasant for many reasons, it was not any less unsettling than her nightmares. For she was still left flustered, with her heart pounding. After a terror she would grab hold of good thoughts and hold on until daylight. But after this dream she wished it had not been morning so she might fall asleep again and pick up where she’d left off.

She doubted Reese would offer marriage again, as he didn’t plan to marry. The way he’d sighed in utter relief when she’d stopped him, proved he was not truly interested in being her husband. But if he did have reason to offer again, she would be ready. And this time she might have a different answer.