“I thought you had retired early.” She lit the lamp and turned to help Reese remove the cloak. “Oh, you went outside to do your exercises? Did something—” She gasped. “Yourface. Whodidthis?”
“It was Reggie and Ned.” Reese pulled the tank top over her head.
“Those vile beasts. Let me look at you in the light.” Frowning, Ellen lifted the lamp. “Did they strike you here as well?” She touched Reese’s forehead, and she winced.
“No, I did that when I broke Reggie’s nose.” She gave a dark chuckle. “But how can I explain these?” Reese held up her arms to show the bruises in the shape of fingers.
“And this.” Ellen touched Reese’s shoulder.
“Ow.” She shifted to try to see it in the mirror. Ellen brought over the candle, and they examined the large bruise that was developing.
“That must have happened when Reggie knocked me to the ground.”
“Oh, Clarisse.” Ellen sagged into the chair by the dressing table. “I am so sorry.”
“That’s what your brother said.” Reese picked up her nightgown. “I just want to go to bed.”
“After I soak these bruises,” Ellen said.
“Fine.” Reese glanced at the clock. It would be a short night. Regardless of any bruising, she had a baby to check on in the morning.
While she eased into the hot water of her bath, the images of the two men kept returning. Every move she made that hurt brought back the feel of the blows. She had to stop it.
Reese closed her eyes against the tears and, instead, remembered the feel of Jem’s hand flying over her shoulder to strike Reggie, the feel of Jem’s arms around her. He had come. How had he known?
***
Following the Earl, Jem still shook a little with excess adrenaline. The sense of urgency that had driven him to Kellworth had increased the closer he’d gotten to his destination. He’d finally resorted to a full gallop and risked a possible fall. All he knew was that hehadto get there, had to get to Reese.
He didn’t understand what had happened, but he’d been right. Or whatever had pushed him had been. Could it have been the magic? His lordship had arrived only a minute later and would have stopped the men.
Why, then, had Jem been drawn so forcefully to Reese? The closest comparison was to that incredible force that had ripped them into the past. Had the magic called him to her? But that didn’t make sense. From his chats with Nellie, he’d thought of it as his adversary, that he had to fight against it. Was it not his enemy after all?
“This is your room,” the Earl said, indicating a door. “I will have my man send you some clothing. I believe we are close enough to the same size.”
“Thank you, my lord.” Jem bowed.
“I would have a word with you first.” His lordship’s tone of voice had an edge to it, indicating he wouldn’t take no for an answer.
Jem hadn’t missed the Earl’s solicitous behavior toward Reese, or the proprietary way he’d looked at her. He definitely hadn’t appreciated Jem’s attentions—or her response. The thought almost made him smile, but he stayed in character.
“All right, my lord.”
“I wish to be private.”
“It’s your house.” Jem pointed to the door to the bedroom he’d just been assigned. “In here, or would you prefer somewhere else, my lord?” He was getting really sick of using that title.
The Earl nodded toward the door, so Jem led the way inside. He only gave it a cursory glance, enough to recognize the quality of the furnishings. Not that Nellie’s wasn’t, but hers were kind of extreme in the Gothic style. These were not.
“How can I help you, my lord?” Jem asked.
The Earl put his hands behind his back and began pacing the room. He seemed to be considering his words, so Jem leaned against the door jamb and waited.
“You Americans,” his lordship finally said, stopping in front of Jem.
“You say that like it’s an accusation.”
“It is. Look at you, with your casual demeanor. Any reasonable Englishman would not dare to take a stance like yours before a Peer of the realm.”
