Page 53 of The Lady’s Sweet Revenge

Chapter Nineteen

Fondness? Reese had watched as Harlow hurried to her room silently and closed the door quietly. No one had witnessed her return. It was as if it had never occurred. But it certainly had.

Unlike her, he’d not lost his virginity this night, but he could say for certain he’d never before felt the way he had when he’d lain with Harlow. He might have associated the feeling with her innocence, but he didn’t think it was that as much as it was just… her.

He knew he would think back on this evening for the rest of his life and he would not think upon it with mere fondness.

He didn’t think he’d ever felt so put out by a single word. And not even an offensive word at that. He’d never known such an inept description. The word lacked the emotion needed to encompass what had happened in his room. For he had been overwhelmed.

He fell back on the bed looking up at the canopy above his bed and remembered the sounds and touches they’d shared. The heat of her body and the smile on her lips. Those verdant eyes locked on his when she let desire claim her.

She’d made him feel passion in a way he’d never felt before. A way he’d never describe as fondness.

The next thing he knew he was opening his eyes into the room filled with sunlight. Had he slept through the night? He guessed it had been fairly late when she’d left his room, but still he’d not woken with night terrors as was his way since Merrick had shot him on a filthy dock in London.

For a moment as he looked around he wondered if he’d dreamt her coming to his room the night before. But he need only to hold the pillow she’d lain on to catch the scent of her hair.

Thinking of another possible sign of what transpired the night before, he threw back the bedspread and looked down on the wrinkled, but snowy white, linens.

Harlow had been the only virgin he’d ever lain with, but he was to understand there was… evidence. He recalled the moment he’d entered her body. The look of surprise on her face. She’d clearly been a maid, but perhaps being older… He hoped whomever she wed would not expect proof of her virtue.

Thinking of her marrying someone stirred unease in his chest, just as it had the night before when she spoke of a child.

He’d always thought of marriage and children as something to be avoided. A duty. But now… perhaps he’d not allowed himself to think of marriage as anything other than something his mother was forcing upon him.

Like a lad, he’d obstinately refused simply because he was being told to do it. He’d made jests of his friends for falling into the trap. Yet he knew just by watching them with their wives that it was he they felt sympathy for.

They were happy when he was anything but.

Until last night with Harlow.

He rang for his valet so he might dress quickly, the sooner to get down to breakfast and see her again.

*

Harlow hadn’t been sure what to expect that morning. After a night filled with such joy and pleasure, she’d come down to the breakfast room to find the countess alone at the table. Reese nowhere to be seen.

Harlow knew the earl did not wish to marry, but he was also a gentleman who would see what they’d done the night before as a cue to ask for her hand again. She was surprised he hadn’t already offered. Perhaps he understood she wished to marry someone who truly wanted to marry her. Not someone offering because of an obligation. Regardless, if the countess knew, she would demand they marry. So it was of the utmost importance the countess didn’t suspect anything between them.

Harlow considered her options for a moment longer than she liked. Of course, she wouldn’t do anything to force Reese’s hand, even if he had already offered it before freely. She wouldn’t use what happened between them to trap the earl.

They’d discussed what he would do with a wife who trapped him and she surely didn’t wish to be set aside in the country while her husband took other lovers. He hadn’t said he would, but he likely thought himself above such retribution, while Harlow knew well how a person wronged would do nearly anything to see the matter avenged.

Harlow was not so silly to think she would find a grand love affair, but she at least wanted the man who offered for her do so out of free will.

“Are you not hungry, Lady Harlow?” the countess asked. “Or do you find fault with the cook?” The woman frowned—something she seemed fond of doing—at her plate. “Only the Scots would serve meat with a side of…meat for a meal.”

Harlow looked down at her own plate which contained bacon and ham as it had every morning and smiled.

“It isn’t even a different meat. Ham and bacon.” The woman rolled her eyes. “They are nearly the same thing. I thought the country to be filled to bulging with sheep last I visited, but it appears there is no shortage of swine. I shouldn’t be surprised.”

“You do not care for Scotland, my lady?” Harlow asked only to make conversation. Reese had mentioned a few times how seldom his mother came to Scotland.

“My son didn’t lament on my shortcomings as a mother for refusing to visit this cold, damp place of my own accord?”

“He mentioned you haven’t been here in some time but that you were happy to have been invited.”

The countess hmphed as well as any Scot Harlow had met so far.