The Price of Pleasure Page 3

  “Who is your contact?”

  “He is known as Andre. I’ve met him only once. It was dark, and I didn’t seem him clearly. My servant Antoine carries messages between us. They meet at a tavern in the village. Andre is the one who recruited me for this mission and provided the bribe money.”

  Reed stared at her, able to fully appreciate her beauty for the first time since his rescue. Hints of red in her ebony hair seemed to glow in the sunlight streaming through the window. The slender wings of her eyebrows rose elegantly above a heavy fringe of eyelashes, so thick and luxurious they nearly obscured the golden flecks in her soft brown eyes. Her fair skin was as smooth and delicate as the finest porcelain. By the time his gaze arrived at her full, rose-colored lips, he realized she was staring at him with the same intensity.

  Reed cleared his throat. “I need to speak with Andre as soon as possible.”

  “He probably can’t tell you much more than I have. The rescue operation in which I am involved demands extreme secrecy. Last names are not used. I don’t even know if Andre is my contact’s real name. It’s what we were told to call him.”

  “I know all about secrecy.” Reed snorted. “I was an operative myself, until I was . . . exposed.” Reed thought it best not to mention his betrayal until he knew more about this mission. First and foremost, he needed to regain his strength.

  “I’ll go fetch your breakfast,” Fleur said. “As for getting out of bed, we’ll see what Doctor Defoe has to say. He’s coming today to check your arm. He says the bones are knitting nicely.”

  “What about clothing? I can’t very well run around in a sheet.”

  “You’ll have what you need once you’re well enough to run around,” Fleur said as she sailed out of the room.

  Reed watched her trim figure disappear through the door. Though he hadn’t been aware of much these past few days, he always recognized Fleur by her soft touch and her scent. Now that his mind wasn’t clouded by laudanum, he realized she was a rare beauty.

  If Fleur was English, what was she doing in France working for Lord Porter and the Foreign Office? Reed frowned. He vaguely recalled Fleur saying her husband had been French. Her dead husband. That much he remembered, but there was still a great deal he didn’t know.

  Suddenly Reed became aware that he needed to relieve himself. Since neither Antoine nor Gaston was with him, he decided to test his legs. He remembered that the chamber pot sat behind a screen in the corner of the room and rose shakily to his feet. Surprisingly, he was able to stand despite his wobbly knees. He took an experimental step, then another and another, until he was breathing hard from the effort. But he had reached the screen, and that was a triumph in itself.

  Reed managed to accomplish his business without help, but when he emerged from behind the screen, he saw Fleur enter the chamber, a tray held gingerly in her hands. It was at that moment he realized he was naked.

  They stared at each other, as if frozen in time. Reed knew that physically he was in the worst shape of his life; he didn’t want anyone, particularly an attractive female, looking at him. He made a dash for the bed and its concealing sheet. Unfortunately he didn’t make it. His knees buckled, and he hit the floor.

  Fleur set the tray on the bedside table and wagged her head, as if he were a child and not a grown man. “Foolish man. Why didn’t you wait for someone to help you?”

  She grasped his good arm and helped him to rise.

  “If I let myself be waited on, I’ll never regain my strength.”

  Embarrassment raised flags of color on his cheeks. Reed had always been proud of his body. He kept himself in tiptop shape, exercising his muscles and toning his body by fencing, boxing and other outdoor activities. In England he had been known as something of a rogue and ladies’ man. But now he wondered if he would ever be able to bare his body to a woman again.

  Fortunately Fleur seemed not to notice his embarrassment, for her expression remained concerned but dispassionate as she helped him sit on the edge of the bed and cover himself with the sheet.

  “Are you ready to eat?” she asked brightly.

  “More than ready; I’m starving,” Reed admitted.

  Fleur pulled the napkin off the tray, revealing a fluffy omelet, thick slices of fresh bread and butter, and a pot of tea. “If you’re still hungry after this, Lisette will make you another omelet.”

  Reed’s mouth began to water, and he forgot all about his embarrassment. “This is a veritable feast, Countess.”

  Fleur looked furtively behind her, even though she knew no one was listening. “Royalty does not exist in France today. I’m merely a citizen, my lord. Please call me Fleur. Anything else is too dangerous.”

  “Forgive me, Fleur. Though I’ve been out of contact with the world these past few months, I should have known better. Can you trust your servants and the good doctor?”

  “They are the only ones I can trust. Your presence cannot be known outside this cottage.”

  “What about Lucien, the guard at Devil’s Chateau? He knows.”

  “If it became known that Lucien accepted a bribe to release you to my care, he would be a dead man. Lucien will say nothing, though there will be a new grave in the cemetery outside the gates. Lucien’s superiors will be told it’s your final resting place. I’m sure no questions will be asked.”

  Reed picked up the fork and dug into his omelet. The delicate herbs tempted his taste buds, awakening the appetite that had been sadly deprived in Devil’s Chateau. He closed his eyes and swallowed, savoring every bite. The bread was light and fluffy; the freshly churned butter tasted like heaven. In minutes his plate was clean and he was licking butter from his fingers.

  “That tasted like manna from heaven,” Reed sighed. “I can hardly wait to sample more of Lisette’s cooking.”

  “Would you like more?”

  Reed hesitated. He could probably eat three times the amount he had just consumed but didn’t know if his stomach could handle it. “Perhaps I should wait for lunch. Overloading my stomach might not be a good idea.”

  Fleur nodded. “Rest now, I’ll bring the doctor up as soon as he arrives.” Reed lay back against the pillows. When Fleur started to withdraw, he reached out and grabbed her arm, surprised that he still had sufficient strength to restrain her.

  “Wait! There’s something you’re not telling me, isn’t there? Why was I chosen from amongst dozens of deserving men in Devil’s Chateau? Why was I singled out and taken from the prison while others were left behind?”

  “You’ve had enough excitement for now. I’ll explain after the doctor has come. Meanwhile, I’ll find some clothing for you.”

  Reed released her arm, loath to lose contact with his lovely savior. Moments later, his eyes fluttered shut and he slept.

  Fleur didn’t leave immediately. She lingered awhile to watch Reed sleep. She thought he looked better, that his face had a bit more color. His incredible silver eyes had lost the hollow, half-starved look, though his face was still gaunt and his skin pulled taut across his cheekbones. Since the omelet seemed to have agreed with him, she would make sure he was fed more hearty food at lunch. He definitely needed more meat on his lanky frame.

  For some reason, Fleur couldn’t make herself leave Reed’s bedside. He fascinated her. His face hinted at something dark and dangerous. She knew intuitively that he could be ruthless when the situation warranted and she pitied his enemies. But when he flashed that dimple, she could well imagine his appeal to women.

  Fleur hadn’t found another man so interesting since her husband’s death, and she wondered what attracted her to Reed Harwood. She knew he was the kind of man who attracted women. Before his imprisonment they had probably fallen all over him. She’d seen his kind, had been pursued by them before marrying Pierre.

  Sighing, Fleur picked up the tray and left Reed’s bedchamber. When she reached the kitchen, Lisette eyed the empty dishes and smiled.

  “How did his lordship like the omelet?” she asked.

&nb
sp; Fleur set the tray on the table. “He enjoyed it very much. I think he’s ready for something more substantial. He’s eager to regain his strength. He tried to use the chamber pot by himself, but didn’t quite make it back to bed. I don’t think I’ve ever seen a man blush like he did when I saw him lying naked on the floor. I believe the pitiful state of his body embarrassed him.”

  “I wouldn’t doubt it,” Lisette replied. “Our guest seems like a proud man. He wouldn’t want you or any woman seeing him the way he is now.”

  “He asked for clothing. I’m going to find Antoine and see what’s available.”

  By the time Fleur found Antoine and explained her needs, Doctor Defoe had arrived. Fleur followed him to the sickroom, where Reed appeared to be sleeping soundly.

  “Shall I wake him, madame?” Defoe asked.

  Reed opened his eyes. “I’m awake, Doctor.”

  The doctor nodded. “Let’s have a look at that arm. Does it pain you?”

  “Not as much as it did.”

  “It is healing well,” Defoe declared with a great deal of satisfaction. “The splints can come off next week, if you promise to keep the arm immobilized in a sling while it finishes healing. Fortunately the break was a simple one.”

  “Thank you, Doctor. When can I leave the bed and move around?”

  “Whenever you feel strong enough,” Defoe replied.

  Reed smiled, his skin stretching tight over his cheekbones. “I am ready.”

  Defoe tapped his chin, then addressed Fleur. “I believe solid food is in order for our patient, madame. He needs to regain some of the weight he’s lost.”

  “My thoughts exactly, Doctor,” Fleur said. “Lisette prepared him an omelet this morning, and it seems to have agreed with him. His appetite is returning, which is always a favorable sign.”

  “Indeed it is. There is little more for me to do here, unless there is a sudden change in his condition.” He examined Reed’s bound ribs. “His ribs are knitting nicely, and the bruises are fading. The bandages can be removed when he feels comfortable without them.”

  Reed heaved a sigh of relief. “The sooner I can move about freely, the sooner I can regain my strength.”

  “Shall I return in a few days and remove the arm splints?” Defoe asked Fleur.

  “I can manage, Doctor. Thank you for everything you’ve done. As before, this must be kept in the strictest confidence.”

  “I understand, Madame. And you are right about my not returning. There are too many inquisitive people in the village willing to betray their neighbors for a few paltry coins.” He shook his head. “I do not know what our great country has come to.”

  Fleur ushered the doctor out of the chamber. After Defoe left, she returned to the sickroom. She needed to tell Reed what she had been putting off. But first she went to the kitchen to fetch thick slices of bread and butter and a mug of milk for her patient. Eating often was the only way he was going to regain his strength.

  Reed’s stomach was beginning to growl again when Fleur entered the chamber with a mug of milk and two thick slices of bread slathered with butter.

  “How did you know?” Reed asked as he grabbed a slice of bread and took a huge bite.

  “You should eat small amounts often,” Fleur advised. “With Lisette’s help, we’ll have you fattened up in no time.” She pulled a chair over to the bed. “Antoine is securing clothes for you. They won’t fit properly, but they will be better than nothing.”

  Nodding, Reed continued eating.

  “My lord, I have some bad news to impart,” Fleur began.

  Reed didn’t like the sound of that. He swallowed hastily, giving Fleur his full attention. The black gown she wore hugged her curves and did nothing to detract from her beauty. The unrelieved darkness of mourning was supposed to make a woman look somber and drab. Instead, the black made her creamy skin glow and enhanced the reddish tint in her dark hair. For the first time in months, he felt a familiar tug in his loins.

  With a concentrated effort, Reed raised his gaze from the subtle rise and fall of Fleur’s breasts to her face. “Bad news, you say? I knew there was something you were keeping from me.”

  “I felt I should wait until you were ready to hear it. You have no idea how close to death you were when you arrived here.”

  Reed nodded solemnly. “I do know; I even wished for death. But as you can see, I am now fully capable of handling whatever news, good or bad, you’re about to relate. Please continue. I hope you’re going to tell me why you singled me out for rescue.”

  “Yes, and I regret I’m the one to inform you instead of a member of your family.”

  “Except for my brother and grandmother, I have little family left. Not close family, anyway. Go ahead, Fleur. I can take it.”

  Fleur hesitated, then said, “Your brother is dead, my lord. You are now the sixth Earl of Hunthurst. Lord Porter’s communiqué said you are desperately needed at home to take up the reins of the earldom.”

  A crushing weight pressed down on Reed’s chest. Jason was only a year older than he. “Jason is dead?” he asked dully. “You must be mistaken. I . . . he was well when last I saw him.”

  “It seems his illness was swift and deadly.”

  “Jason’s health was never robust, but after he wed he seemed to perk up. We all hoped he would sire an heir. Grandmamma must be devastated.”

  “Your grandmother was the one who instigated the investigation into your disappearance. I understand she hounded Lord Porter to find you, threatening dire consequences if he did not.”

  A smile curved Reed’s lips. “That sounds like something Grandmamma would do.”

  Reed couldn’t believe his brother was gone. He didn’t want the earldom, had never aspired to a higher station in life than the one he occupied. He had been happy to let Jason take up the reins after their father’s death so Reed could continue his carousing.

  “How long has Jason been dead?” Reed choked out.

  “I’m not sure. I wasn’t privy to that information. But it must have happened after you were captured. British agents have been investigating your disappearance for several months, although I was just recently recruited to find you. I’d already removed two men from the prison, and Lord Porter thought you might be there when you couldn’t be located elsewhere. They had begun to fear you were dead.”

  Reed was still reeling from the news that Jason had died without siring an heir.

  While Helen, Jason’s wife, had never impressed Reed, Jason had seemed happy enough with her. It was Helen’s sister Violet whom Reed had tried to steer clear of. Violet had openly pursued him; that was one of the reasons he had welcomed the invitation to join Lord Porter’s group of spies and accepted the assignment in France.

  “Are you all right, my lord?” Fleur asked. “I truly hate to be the bearer of such bad news.”

  “The death of a loved one is never easy to accept,” Reed said. “I’m sure you felt the same about your husband.”

  Fleur gazed down at her clenched hands. When she looked up, there were tears in her eyes. “Pierre was too young to die such a violent death. His execution is the reason I am working for Lord Porter, though I have never met him personally.”

  “Will you ever return to England?”

  Fleur shrugged. “Perhaps one day, when my work here is done. My family is mostly gone. There is no one left but an aunt with whom I lived before marrying Pierre and settling in France.”

  “So your marriage was a love match,” Reed dared.

  Fleur looked away, her lips clamped tight.

  “I’m sorry; I have no right to ask personal questions.”

  “It’s painful for me to talk about Pierre. He was a sweet man who didn’t deserve to die.”

  “Do you have children?”

  Fleur shook her head and rose, effectively ending the conversation. “I’ll leave you alone with your grief.”

  Reed nodded. He did need to be alone. His brother had been a good man. Though health problems had p
lagued Jason all his life, he shouldn’t have died so young. Poor Grandmamma, Reed lamented. She had so wanted to live to see the future heir of Hunthurst come into the world. If setting up a nursery now was dependent on him, Grandmamma was going to be disappointed. Reed had no intention of looking for a wife when he returned to England.

  Being in prison had shown him just how precious life was, and he intended to make up for lost time. Settling down now was the last thing he wanted. There were too many willing women out there to be shackled to one. The Marriage Mart wasn’t for him. Jason had toed the line when it came to matrimony, but Reed wasn’t going to be caught in the parson’s mousetrap any time soon.

  Reed spent the next hours grieving Jason and recalling their times together. Theirs had been a happy childhood despite Jason’s frequent illnesses. If Fleur hadn’t shown up when she did, Reed would have joined his brother in perpetual sleep, leaving the earldom without an heir, except for a distant cousin from the French side of the family. In fact, he didn’t know if his cousin was still alive. To his knowledge, Gallard Duvall had never visited England. If Grandmamma kept in touch with the Duvall family, Reed had no knowledge of it.

  Feeling bereft and alone, Reed fell asleep, his dreams troubled. When he awakened, the sun was sinking below the horizon. He heard the click of the door latch and glanced up as Antoine entered on tiptoe.

  “It’s all right, Antoine, I’m awake.”

  “I found some clothes for you, monsieur,” Antoine said. “I can help you dress, if you’d like. The countess said you can join us in the dining room for dinner, if you’re feeling well enough.”

  “I’d like that very much,” Reed said. “And I would appreciate your help. My arm isn’t much good yet, and I am still a bit weak. But first, I’d like to ask you some questions about Andre, your contact.”

  Antoine gave Reed a wary look. “The countess said you would ask about Andre. Unfortunately, I know very little about the man. I meet him at the local tavern and carry messages between him and the countess. We rarely speak.”