Chapter 7
Reeves slept unevenly for the rest of the night.
He felt sure with every passing moment that something was about to go wrong.
It was impossible to relax. He had guessed that having Emma back would be disconcerting in this way—that he’d worry constantly about losing her again.
That was painful, but not unexpected. But he hadn’t guessed, and never could have, what it would be like to have someone like Miss Wetherby tagging along.
He had never imagined, even when he’d told her that she could come, that he would fear losing her too.
Monstrous of her to insist on joining me, to persuade me that Emma needs her, and then to make me fear her running away!
He wasn’t being fair, and he knew it, of course. He understood that Miss Wetherby had not been running away. He believed what she had said about going out for some air.
But she could have guessed how sneaking out the way she had would impact him, couldn’t she?
She could have anticipated that it wouldn’t look good.
Either she had guessed, and she hadn’t cared, or else she hadn’t bothered to think very hard about the impact she was having, and either way, he was bothered.
It was going to be more difficult than he had anticipated to have her around.
As the sky outside the window began to lighten, he finally dozed off, though it was the kind of sleep that left him aware of the fact that he was sleeping and fretful that he was going to be woken from it at any moment.
He did his best to sink deeper into slumber, but it was impossible—every sound jarred him, made him wonder if he was hearing the door opening and one of his travel companions slipping out on him yet again.
When he finally awoke, he felt as exhausted as if he hadn’t slept at all.
He lay on his back on the settee, aching from trying to fit on the too-small surface, staring up at the ceiling.
Though he knew they needed to get back on the road as quickly as possible, a part of him wanted to delay, to lie here as long as he could.
The thought of forcing himself back into the carriage and bumping along the road home was abysmal after that wretched night of poor sleep.
It wasn’t going to get any easier, though. With a low groan, he forced himself upright and looked over at the bed.
Emma was sitting up, her eyes wide. When she saw him, she pressed a finger to her lips and pointed to the pile of blankets beside her.
Miss Wetherby. She must still be sleeping, then.
For a moment, Reeves felt the strangest desire to go over to the bed and see what her face looked like in slumber.
He recalled the stubborn set of her jaw last night as the two of them had argued out on the balcony.
The blazing fire in her blue eyes. Those things would be gone now.
She would look softer. Sweeter. He wanted to see that.
What a strange impulse. He shook it off and refocused on his daughter.
She pointed to the door and bit her lip.
For a moment, he thought she was frightened of something, but then he heard a low rumble and understood. “You want to go down to breakfast?”
She nodded.
“Not by yourself.” The idea of letting her be on her own after what had happened was intolerable. It sickened him to think of it. And he wasn’t ready to go down himself. “Let’s go and see if Norman can take you, all right? Get dressed.”
She did so quickly and quietly, her eyes darting to Miss Wetherby.
She was clearly determined not to disturb her new friend’s rest. More and more, Reeves was shocked by how much his daughter had grown to like this woman.
It had happened more quickly than he would have believed possible if he hadn’t seen it for himself.
Once she was dressed and ready, he took her out into the hall and knocked on the door of the room where his two men were staying. The door was answered quickly, and Norman appeared before them.
“Emma wants to go down to breakfast,” he said. “Do you think you might take her? I still have a few things to do before I’ll be ready to go.”
“Of course.” Norman smiled. He held out his hand to Emma, and she took it.
“Don’t let her out of your sight,” Reeves warned him.
“Of course not.” Norman inclined his head. “You can count on me.”
“I know I can.” There was no one in the world he trusted more, and it would be good for both him and Emma to put a little distance between them.
It would enable them to start feeling like things were normal again.
But knowing that and doing it were very different, and as Norman led her down the hall, his gut clenched.
It felt so very wrong to let her walk away from him, especially after everything the two of them had been through.
The last time she walked away from me, I lost her.
He took a deep breath. That wasn’t going to happen this time. It was a different situation. Norman was with her. She was safe.
He turned and went back to his room.
Another surprise was waiting for him there. Miss Wetherby had awoken and was sitting upright in bed. She let out a gasp when she saw him and clutched at the bedclothes. “Your Grace.”
“You’re awake.” He turned his back on her to allow her a moment to make herself decent, if she wished. She seemed to have decided to take it, for after a moment, he heard her footsteps on the ground. He walked to the window and focused on the grounds below.
“I wanted to thank you for last night,” she said hesitantly.
That was a surprise. “You’re thanking me? I thought you were angry with me last night. Didn’t you resent the fact that I asked you to come back inside?”
“Well,” she said, “I wouldn’t say you asked, exactly.”
Which was only proving the point he was trying to make. “So, what is it you’re thanking me for?”
“Whether I liked the way you spoke to me or not, you were right about the things you said,” she told him. “It was cold out there, and you encouraged me to come back in. I appreciate that.”
He hadn’t meant to do her any particular favor. It felt odd to be thanked. “It would be difficult for me if you were to catch an illness,” he said gruffly. “You’re meant to be caring for my daughter. I don’t want to have to be caring for you.”
“You can turn around,” she told him.
He did. She was wearing a simple dress, brown and unadorned.
He’d have thought it was the same one he had seen her in yesterday, except that he noticed the sleeves were cut slightly differently.
Perhaps her whole wardrobe was like this.
Why would a woman who worked at an orphanage require anything finer than these simple garments?
But even in the plain brown dress, she was lovely. Her skin was clear, and her blue eyes sparkled like sapphires. It occurred to him that if he had seen her at a ball, he would have wanted to ask her to dance.
What an odd thing that was to think. He didn’t attend balls, and he certainly didn’t dance at them.
He wondered what had put the idea in his head now.
She was pretty, but many women were pretty, and that was no reason for a man to take leave of his senses.
Reeves had always prided himself on being more levelheaded than that.
“I should thank you for allowing me to care for your daughter as well,” she said seriously. “We argued about it yesterday, but I want to be sure you know how appreciative I am. How much it means to me that you hear what I say about her needs, and that you trust my judgment about it.”
She was mistaken if that was what she thought. “I don’t trust your judgment,” he informed her. “I don’t trust you. I brought you along because my daughter was insisting on it, and I don’t wish to deny her anything she wants. That doesn’t mean I trust you.
“You need to understand this. When we reach my home, I’ll be keeping a close watch on you.
If you do anything that threatens Emma or puts her in harm’s way, it’ll be a mistake you’ll remember for the rest of your life.
You’ll pay for it, and once you have, you’ll be sent back to that orphanage of yours and never allowed to speak to my daughter again.
“I would never do anything to hurt Emma!” Miss Wetherby looked scandalized. “I don’t know how you can even suggest such a thing. I would rather die than cause harm to such a sweet soul.”
“I hope that’s true, but you must realize I don’t know you at all,” he said. “And I do not trust people I don’t know to care for my child. I never have, and I never will.”
She squared her shoulders. “You know,” she said, “I’m not really the person you should be worrying about when it comes to Emma’s well-being, and I’m sure you realize that.
Someone has been very rough on her recently.
I don’t think, even in your most suspicious heart, that you believe that person was me. ”
Of course he didn’t. The idea of her physically harming Emma would have been laughable if the thought of someone hurting his daughter hadn’t made him want to punch things rather than laugh.
He didn’t believe she had been responsible for whatever had happened to Emma.
But that didn’t mean he was about to trust her with Emma’s well-being now.
Letting her remain in Emma’s life for a little while was one thing, but it certainly wasn’t the same as outright trust. He couldn’t give her that.
“Just make sure you watch your step around her,” he said. “I would hate to have to send you back to the orphanage the moment we reach my home, if only because I can see how it would break my daughter’s heart.”
The truth was that he didn’t know quite why he was being this sharp with her. She hadn’t done anything to make him mistrust her. In fact, the way Emma clung to her should have been an encouraging sign, because it meant she had convinced Emma that she was a friend.
But children didn’t always have the best judgment about things.
He wanted Miss Wetherby to be a good and trustworthy person.
But how could he trust anyone with Emma after the way he had almost lost her?
He never wanted to let her out of his sight again.
Even allowing her to go off with a longtime friend like Norman had been almost unbearably difficult for him.
Now he was expected to allow this woman he hardly knew to get close to her, and he hated the thought of it.
“You’d better get your things together,” he told her. “We’ll be leaving very shortly. And come downstairs if you want the chance to eat something before we get on the road.”
He let himself out of the room and hurried down the stairs to the dining area to join his daughter and Norman.