Chapter 18
The encounter in Bridget’s room had left Reeves feeling more shaken than he cared to admit.
Now that he was out in the hall again, it was clear to him that he wouldn’t have teased her so mercilessly about that book if he hadn’t already been feeling nervous himself.
He had done that because he had needed to break the tension, and it hadn’t been a very fair way to go about it.
I’ll apologize to her in the morning. She did say she wanted to be left alone for the night.
He made his way down the hall toward his study, thinking he would do a little more work before turning in for the evening, but then he paused.
Maybe it would be a better idea to stop by Emma’s room.
She was sure to be asleep by now, but looking in on her would put him at ease.
It was always something he had been able to do to comfort himself in the past, and tonight would be no exception.
He paused outside her room and placed his hand flat on the door, overwhelmed with relief at the knowledge that he would find her inside.
He had come so close to losing her, and it was only a combination of very fortunate events that had led to him finding her once again.
Reeves didn’t know what he would have done if things had ended differently and he had lost Emma forever.
He eased the door open slowly.
For a moment, he couldn’t see anything at all.
It was pitch-dark in the room. That was somewhat surprising to him—Emma’s habit was to fall asleep with a candle burning.
It wasn’t a habit he was fond of, because of the danger of it, but he had given her a glass cylinder to put around her candle, and that made things seem a little safer.
But tonight, the candle had been extinguished. He frowned into the darkness. Had she finally decided to listen to him about that?
As his eyes adjusted to the darkness, he realized the shapes in the room seemed wrong. He couldn’t put his finger on what it was, but there was something in front of him that felt out of place, as if it shouldn’t be there…
A shadow shifted.
Reeves’ heart leapt into his throat.
That was no ordinary shadow. It was a figure. A person. An adult man, standing over his daughter’s bed!
“Who are you?” he demanded, rushing forward to try to position himself between the man and Emma.
The man staggered backward a few steps, obviously caught by surprise. He recovered quickly, though, and by the time Reeves made contact with him, his feet were frozen, and he was ready.
Reeves ran into him forcefully, but the man was strong and pushed back hard.
Reeves was shocked to find himself sprawling on the ground.
He wouldn’t have believed it. At the best of times, he was strong, and he knew it, and today he was driven by the fact that Emma was alone in this room, that this man, whoever he was, had very obviously meant her harm.
It made Reeves feel as if he could rip the man limb from limb, so it was a surprise—and an unpleasant one at that—to realize that he couldn’t. That no matter how he might feel about it, the man in front of him was stronger and more capable than he was.
And I can’t protect Emma. That’s the part that really hurts. I’m supposed to take care of her, and I’m failing.
Determination to protect his daughter fueled the fire within him. He scrambled back to his feet, rounding on the man. “Who are you? Tell me!”
If only there was more light! He couldn’t make out any distinguishing features at all.
Squinting at the man, he could see that he was tall—roughly the same height as Reeves himself.
He appeared to be clean-shaven, or perhaps he had short facial hair that couldn’t be seen in the dark.
There was no telling what color his hair might have been, no way of knowing what his eyes were like.
Reeves couldn’t even distinguish anything about the shape of the man’s face.
He would never be able to identify him again later.
But the man had only shown his teeth briefly in response to the demand that he give a name—he obviously wasn’t taking that seriously.
Reeves supposed it was no surprise. He would know all too well how he would be thanked for his actions tonight.
There would be a cell for whoever had dared to attack Emma.
I’ll just have to make sure he doesn’t leave. I’ll knock him unconscious now and keep him here so that he’ll have to answer my questions!
It was easier said than done, though. Maybe the man was more prepared for a fight than Reeves was—he didn’t seem any larger, but it definitely felt as though he had the upper hand. No sooner had Reeves regained his feet than another blow came, this one to the side of his head.
He saw stars. This time, when he went down, it wasn’t so easy to get his feet back under him. A precious moment was wasted on the floor, waiting for his head to clear, and by the time he managed to rise again, the man was nowhere to be seen.
The sound of Emma sobbing brought him back to himself. She was sitting up in bed, reaching out for Reeves. He went to her at once and embraced her, and all he could think was, He didn’t take her. I don’t know what he came for, I don’t know what he was doing here, but he didn’t take Emma.
“Are you all right?” he asked her urgently.
She nodded, sniffling, and dove into his arms.
“That man didn’t hurt you?”
She shook her head.
Reeves closed his eyes, his head spinning. It was a strange time to feel gratitude, but that was the most powerful emotion surging within him. He was deeply grateful that his daughter was still here in his arms.
“What’s going on?” The deep voice belonged to the butler.
Instead of sitting up and trying to explain, Reeves allowed himself to sink back onto Emma’s bed and close his eyes.
Now that his staff was here, they were safe.
“Did you catch him?” he asked, noticing that his voice sounded thick and unfamiliar.
“What happened?” the butler asked. “I saw an unfamiliar man running out of the house, so I came to check on Miss Emma. Who was that?”
“You didn’t recognize him?” Reeves managed, pressing a hand to his forehead in an attempt to stop the ache that was mushrooming there.
“I didn’t get a good look, Your Grace,” the butler admitted. “I called out to him to stop, but of course, he didn’t. He had a mask over the top of his face, so I wasn’t able to place him. It’s possible he was someone I’ve seen before, but if he was, I didn’t recognize him as such.”
Reeves gritted his teeth. A mask. Of course, the intruder had worn one. And that explained why it had been so difficult to make out anything about his appearance when they had fought.
“I’ll send for the physician,” the butler said.
“No,” Reeves said firmly. “I’ll be all right.”
“Your Grace, if you were wounded…”
“I said no. The last thing we want is for word to get out about what happened here. That intruder, whoever he was, must have no information about the impact his little visit has left on anyone in this house. He should be left to wonder. If he thinks I was so affected that I needed a physician, he’ll feel a sense of success—he’ll think he ought to try again.
Right now, for all we know, he’s licking his wounds and thinking of this as a massive failure, and that’s the way I want him to feel.
We’ll do nothing to indicate otherwise.”
“Your Grace …”
“That’s my final word.” He sat up slowly and opened his eyes. His head was still spinning, but he gripped the bedding and felt a little more stable. He looked over at Emma, who had tears streaming down her face.
“Did he say anything to you?”
Another head shake. Reeves let out a long sigh and cradled the back of his daughter’s head. Then he turned to the butler. “Fetch the housekeeper,” he said. “I’d like her to take Emma down for a cup of tea to calm her nerves before she tries to get any more sleep.”
Emma clung to Reeves and buried her face in his chest, and Reeves understood her to be indicating that she didn’t want to be separated from him.
“You’ll be all right,” he told her. “The staff will keep a careful eye on things.” He looked at the butler. “Two guards with them at all times.”
“Of course, Your Grace. We won’t let anyone get near her, I can promise you that.”
“I don’t know how this man slipped through tonight, but I want a much tighter patrol around the house. As many men as can be spared, walking the perimeter at all times. This can never happen again.”
“Yes, Your Grace. I quite agree,” the butler said. “Shall I get the housekeeper now?”
“Emma, you go too,” Reeves said. “Get some tea. Everything will be all right. And then try to get some sleep. I’ll see you in the morning.”
He kissed her forehead. She looked as if she were beginning to relax a bit, and with one last hug for Reeves, she allowed the butler to take her hand and lead her away.
Reeves let out a sigh. Then he got out of bed and made his way slowly to his study, his head still pounding ferociously.
He certainly wasn’t going to be able to get any sleep tonight.
Not now that this had happened. He knew that if he even tried to close his eyes, he’d be haunted by the vision of that man standing over Emma’s bed and the question of what might have happened if he hadn’t come in when he had.
She can’t be alone, he realized with a sinking feeling.
Not even for a moment. I thought this was over, but it isn’t.
Whoever took her that night they aren’t going to stop.
They’re going to keep coming for us, disrupting my life, and harming my daughter.
I can’t ever let her be unguarded. Not until this is finally over.
If only she could tell him who had been responsible for the kidnapping!
Now, more than ever before, he ached to push her for an answer.
But he knew that he couldn’t. He had come to accept that Bridget was right about the wisdom of allowing her to speak in her own time, about the folly of pushing her too hard before she was ready.
To do that might break her altogether and make things worse than they were.
Maddening though it was, he was just going to have to wait.
And in the meantime, he would do all he could to make sure no one outside his circle of trust had access to his daughter.
He was determined—and at the same time, he knew he had failed tonight, and failed significantly. And that failure weighed on him like a millstone around his neck.
He had to do better. He was the only one who could protect Emma—but so far, he had nearly lost her twice. That couldn’t happen again.
Not ever.