He hadn’t expected to earn her respect. In his mind, this was a story of mixing with lowlifes. But now he saw it from anotherperspective. For the first time, he felt a bit of pride in his own actions.
“Anyway,” he said, clearing his throat, “it was mere days after that when I went away to war. I had assumed that people would think I got my scars in battle and would leave it at that, but a rumor seems to have spread that I was seen with scars before I left. And in this instance, the rumor is true. So, people are left to speculate—where did they come from? How did I get them?”
“You could tell people the story you told me. It certainly isn’t shocking,” she said. “I think most people would respond the same way I did. They would think highly of you for it.”
“Maybe they would,” Reeves said. “But I don’t have to explain myself to anyone. Let them stare, if that’s what they want to do. Unless someone takes the time to ask me, the way you did, I don’t see why I should tell them anything.”
Bridget nodded, seeming to accept that. “So, you went off to war,” she said. “And then … when in the midst of all this did you marry Emma’s mother?”
The musicians stopped playing briefly, but then they began a new number. Reeves knew this was an opportunity to dodge Bridget’s questions, to let her go and walk away.
But he didn’t want to.
He pulled her into a second dance. She came along willingly, gazing up at him.
“When I returned,” he said. “That was just after I found out the late Duke of Greystone had died and that I was his closest living heir. A far distant cousin of mine—I never met the man, actually. I had no idea I was in line to inherit from him. It took me completely by surprise.” He chuckled. “I had a friend when I was at the front—a tiny little man. Great with a blade, but shorter than you, even. He used to tease me about everything he could think of. He had the sharpest wit of anyone I ever knew. And when the letter came letting me know I was going to be a duke, I thought I would never hear the end of it.” For a moment, he smiled fondly at the memory. Then he continued. “But the title came with the offer of a wife, and I knew I needed one. I had no experience in society. I had no way of knowing what was expected of me or how I ought to conduct myself. I don’t know what I would have done without her as a guide in those early days.”
“Were you very close?” she asked.
“I would say we were friends,” Reeves said. “But no… not close friends. Not the sort who share confidences, or even much of one another’s time.” He hesitated, hardly able to believe what he was about to say, but it was the truth. “I’m probably closer to you than I ever was with her.”
Bridget stared up at him, her eyes wide.
Reeves tried to process the implications of his own words.
They were true. Bridget was someone he could confide in. She was someone he found himself looking forward to seeing. None of that had been true of Rosalie. He had been fond of her in much the same way as he was fond of his butler—she had been pleasant and had served the purpose she was in his life to serve.
Bridget was different. Bridget was exciting. When he was with her, he felt awake. Alive.
But what could he possibly have intended by telling her that?
CHAPTER 26
“Well, this hasn’t been quite what we hoped it would be,” Reeves murmured to Norman.
Hours had gone by. The two men stood at the front door as people made their way out, stopping to thank Reeves for the ball or to get one last look at his scar. Reeves gritted his teeth in frustration. It was galling to be stared at like this, but it was almost over. Much more maddening was the fact that they hadn’t managed to come any closer to discovering who had been responsible for Emma’s kidnapping. He wanted answers badly, and, without realizing it, he’d begun to pin his hopes on getting some of those answers tonight.
Emma came running up to him, a smile having returned to her face. She held a book in her hands, and as she approached, she lifted it to show him. It was a book of fairy tales, one he had read to her in her youth. He hadn’t seen it in years.
“You found that in the library?” he asked her.
She nodded eagerly.
“I didn’t even know where it was,” Reeves admitted. “Do you want me to read you a story from this book tonight?”
Emma responded by embracing the book tightly. Reeves couldn’t help but smile. Even when she wasn’t talking, it was such a source of joy for him to see her happy like this. It made him believe that things would one day be all right for them again.
“I’m heading out,” Gareth said, coming up alongside them. “Listen, Reeves—I’m sorry about earlier. I didn’t mean to cause trouble.”
“No, it’s all right.” Reeves could hardly be angry at Gareth for making the same mistake he himself had made. “We’re all finding our way through this. I know you were only trying to help.”
Gareth clapped him on the shoulder. Then he bent down and pulled Emma into an embrace.
Emma stiffened. Reeves supposed it was easier for him to forgive Gareth’s earlier behavior than it was for his daughter, but she bore through the hug until Gareth released her and stood upright again.
“I’ll see you soon enough,” Gareth said to them. “We really ought to spend more time together. Don’t you agree, Emma?”He smiled at her. “I’ll see about coming over some day this week. That ought to be fun.”
He winked, then inclined his head respectfully toward Reeves and took his leave.
