LITMIR.BIZ

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looked over at his silver-haired nanny for an answer.

      “It’s called Peter Wilson’s Journey,” Mrs. Garvey said with a smile.

      “What is the story about?” she asked Jared, forcing him to speak when he would have kept silent.

      “It’s about … about a little boy who finds treasure in his garden.”

      Elizabeth smiled. “That sounds marvelous.” She glanced out the window. “I know how much you love stories but it’s so nice outside. Wouldn’t you like to come with me for a walk? I’m sure Mrs. Garvey would be willing to finish the story a little later.”

      Jared’s solemn brown eyes looked up at her. “You aren’t still sick?”

      “I’m feeling better every day. Come on, let’s go.” She reached out a hand and Jared clasped it.

      “Have a good time,” Mrs. Garvey called to them, waving as they walked out the door.

      They headed along the hall and down the back stairs. For the past few days while she convalesced, Elizabeth had been able to avoid seeing Reese. Every servant in the household knew of the confrontation Reese had had with Mason Holloway. Sooner or later she would have to thank him for his protection.

      And his generosity in giving her asylum. Elizabeth wasn’t sure how much longer she could accept his grudging hospitality, but sooner or later, she would have to leave.

      The thought sent a chill down her spine. She was stronger now, more able to deal with Mason and Frances, but also she knew that she had been right and that she and her son were still in danger.

      Elizabeth pushed through the back door, out into the September sunshine. A soft breeze blew over the barren fields, but they were no longer empty as they had been for years. Men worked hoeing weeds and, in an old abandoned orchard, another group worked pruning trees.

      Clearly, Reese meant to ready the place for spring planting. She knew he had been forced to leave the army because of his injury. Still, he had never been interested in farming. She couldn’t help wondering if he would actually stay.

      She felt a tug on her hand and realized Jared was urging her toward the stable. Her son so loved horses. She let him lead her in that direction, pulling her into the cooling shade of the barn.

      One of the horses nickered softly and Jared hurried toward the sound. A pretty sorrel mare stuck her nose above the door of the stall.

      “Isn’t she beautiful?” he said with awe, careful to keep his distance. He’d been forbidden to go near any of the horses at Aldridge Park, but he often went out to watch them running across the fields.

      “She’s lovely.”

      “Look, Mama, she has a star on her forehead.”

      Neither she nor Jared noticed that Reese and another man stood in the shadows until they started forward.

      “I see you’re feeling better,” Reese said, stopping a few feet away.

      A little knot of tension curled in her stomach. She prayed he wouldn’t make her leave, not until she was fully recovered. “Much better, thank you. I thought we might come out for a breath of fresh air.”

      “This is my good friend, Captain Greer,” he said, making the introduction. “We served together for several years.” He was a man of medium height, square-jawed, with sandy brown hair and wearing a pair of gold spectacles.

      “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Captain Greer.”

      “You, as well, my lady. The major mentioned you and your son were guests here.”

      “Lord Reese has been extremely kind.”

      Reese’s jaw tightened. He turned his attention to Jared, who stood statue-still in front of the little mare’s stall.

      “You like horses, Jared?” Reese asked.

      The boy merely nodded.

      “Her name is Starlight. She’s a Thoroughbred. She’s going to be a mother.”

      Jared’s eyes rounded. “She’s going to have a baby?”

      “A colt, yes. The stallion, Alexander, is the sire. He’s that big red horse with the black mane and tail. You’ve probably seen him out in the fields.”

      The boy nodded. “He can run really fast.”

      “Yes, he can. Someday I hope to race the colts he sires.”

      Reese returned his attention to Elizabeth. He had already said more to Jared than Edmund had said to him in the entire six months before the accident that killed him.

      Reese’s brilliant blue eyes fixed on her face and her nervousness kicked up. “I—I didn’t realize you were out here. I hope we aren’t in the way. Jared loves horses. I didn’t think you would mind.”

      He looked at the boy, who still watched the mare. There was such a look of yearning on Jared’s face, Elizabeth’s heart constricted.

      Reese must have noticed. “She’s very gentle-natured. Would you like to pet her?”

      Jared looked at him as if he were a god. “Could I?”

      Reese took the child’s hand and led him closer. Reaching up, Reese rubbed the star on the horse’s forehead and softly stroked her nose. Then he lifted Jared up so that he could do the same.

      The little boy very carefully stroked the mare’s head and nose. When Reese set him back on his feet, he smiled in a way Elizabeth had never seen before and a lump rose in her throat.

      She hid a secret. A terrible secret she meant to carry to her grave. In that moment, she was no longer certain she could.

      Jared raced back to her. “Did you see me, Mama? I petted her and she liked it.”

      “I saw you, sweetheart.” She looked up at Reese and couldn’t stop a sudden mist of tears. “Thank you.”

      Reese glanced away, his jaw hard once more. “I have work to do. If you will excuse us …”

      “Nice to meet you, Lady Aldridge,” the captain said.

      “You, as well, Captain Greer.”

      She watched the men walk out of the barn, saw her son staring after Reese, and in that moment, she realized what a terrible sin she had committed.

      Reese and Travis walked the fields. The first of October, he planned to do some plowing, just to churn up the soil and continue preparations for planting. In the spring he would plow again, then fertilize the soil, get it ready for seeding in April.

      He meant to plant barley. His brother, Royal, was making wagonloads of money with Swansdowne Ale, which was rapidly becoming famous. The brewery sat not far from Bransford Castle, his brother’s home, on a piece of property at the edge of the village, and Royal was already making plans to build a second plant closer to London.

      His brother needed barley to increase his production. Whatever Reese produced was certain to sell.

      The thought did nothing to lift his mood. He had never wanted to be a gentleman farmer. He was only there now because he had promised his dying father he would come back and work the land he had inherited.

      It was a promise he meant to keep, even if he hated every bloody minute.

      So far, if he was honest with himself, being a member of the landed gentry hadn’t been so bad. In fact, he had begun to enjoy the peace and quiet of the Wiltshire countryside. No waking up to the sound of cannon fire. No riding for endless hours until he fell exhausted into his cot at night.

      Watching the leaves turn red and gold and hearing the wind sighing through the trees instead of watching the men in his command dying in pools of their own blood.

      Still, he missed the camaraderie, missed traveling to faraway places, missed his friends. He was glad Travis

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