Page 31 of The Lady’s Sweet Revenge

Chapter Eleven

The next day, supplies arrived and Reese and Harlow worked tirelessly at setting up everything needed for her stage of sorts. He was impressed by her thoroughness to every detail.

“It must be as lifelike as possible,” she said, not for the first time as they’d been working.

Reese hadn’t even realized how much time had passed until Mrs. Garrison brought in the noon meal. Despite the macabre outcome, they’d had a great deal of fun creating everything.

“You don’t need to dig so very far,” she ordered later that afternoon, when he complained about the physical labor with the spade. “Do you want me to do it?”

His eyes went wide. Leave it to Harlow to offer to take over.

“What experience do you have with digging holes in the dirt, Lady Harlow?” he teased.

“More than you would think. I once got in a great deal of trouble for digging a hole and covering it in sticks and leaves. I hid in the bushes for Hen to walk by and get his foot caught in it. I wasn’t expecting Miss Perkins, our nurse, to find it instead. She was laid up for some time.” Harlow winced while Reese did his best not to laugh and failed.

“My, but you must have been quite the hoyden when you were a lass.”

“Some would say I’m still a hoyden today. I know my dowry held most of my appeal, but I wonder if anyone would find me suitable without it.”

Reese wanted to tell her he enjoyed her vivacity quite a lot. He’d danced and spoken with a number of young ladies during the Season who were taught to keep their light hidden away. Instead speaking only of the dullest of topics. Harlow was refreshing and fun. In fact, he could envision a happy life for the man who married her. Whoever he turned out to be.

He winced at the prickly feeling in his stomach that came over him all of a sudden and for no reason at all. Clearing his throat, he told her what he thought.

“Someone who wishes to spend his life having a great deal of fun will offer for you without a thought to the money. And I know a lot of men who do not wish to give up on enjoyment when they marry.”

“And these great lot of men… Are they already married?”

He winced. “Aye. Most of them.”

Later as they had turned to the task of painting, Reese found himself watching as she concentrated on her letters. Did she know her tongue peeked out of her lips the tiniest bit when she focused so intently? He found it adorable, as he found too many things about her.

He imagined what it might be like if he was the man who got to spend his life with her and how he would never fear spending a moment in boredom. But she had rejected him already, so she was not to be his future. He would enjoy this time with her and think fondly of her when she left.

“Belle!” Harlow yelled when the dog came too close as to get black paint in her wiry coat. “I’m sorry.”

“No need to apologize, it was her own fault and I can assure you, it’s not the worst thing I’ve had to wash out of her fur.”

As if trying to make amends, his dog came close and rubbed her head on his leg, essentially covering him in black paint.

“Thanks, old girl.” He shook his head at the dog as Harlow giggled.

After their meal they spent the evening in the library reading to each other.

She had kicked off her half boots and had her small feet tucked up on the settee next to her. As she read, he became fixated on her toes as they wiggled inside her stockings and he imagined going over there and removing them so he might press a kiss to the arch of her foot before moving up to her dainty ankle. Then her calves and her knees. He would touch the inside of her thighs with the tip of his tongue and trace a line up to her—

“Reese?” she interrupted his thoughts, and it was clear by the crease between her brows it wasn’t the first time she’d said his name. “Are you bothered by my feet on your furniture? I’d not think you so fussy when Belle is sprawled out on the other settee. My feet are surely cleaner than the dog.”

“Nay. It doesn’t bother me. I was just thinking of something else. The dress you will need for the scene in the garden.”

“Ah. I will start working on it tomorrow. But now, it is your turn to read the next chapter. Unless you’ve grown tired.”

“I’ll read one last chapter and then we can go to our beds.”

She hopped up and brought the book over to him. Their fingers touched as they passed it between them, and he felt the shock of it down to the place where he still throbbed. He was grateful she was able to bring the book to him as he would have been unable to stand to retrieve it himself.

As he settled into reading the story—feeling a bit lost as he had missed her reading most of the last chapter—he saw how his life could be with the right woman. He’d spent nearly every moment of the day with Harlow, yet he wished he didn’t have to say goodnight. He could have happily spent the rest of the night with her. Especially doing the things he’d been considering earlier.

“Did you fall asleep?” she asked when he stopped speaking.