Chapter 20
Bridget awoke feeling dizzy and suffused with a strange happiness that she couldn’t quite explain. It was the sort of feeling she associated with Christmas morning—a warmth and a relaxation that permeated her being and made her want to stay in bed and jump out of it all at the same time.
It took her a moment to recall what had happened the night before and to understand why she felt so unusually cheerful, and when she did, the pleasant feeling slowly drained from her and was replaced by a wave of confusion.
To be feeling like this because of a visit from Reeves to her room—because he had examined her injury and touched her leg—it frightened her.
That shouldn’t have left such an impact.
It had been uncomfortable in the moment, and yes, she could admit that it had been a little exciting, too.
But the moment was over. She needed to center her thoughts and move on.
Stepping out of bed, she looked out the window. The sun was high in the sky. She had slept longer than she normally would have. How odd. Bridget was normally a light sleeper, but she could tell that this had been an unusually heavy sleep.
It wasn’t the first time something like that had happened. There had been nights throughout her life when she had fallen into extraordinarily heavy sleep, though these usually happened after a lot of stress and tension, and she knew it was her body’s way of recovering from that.
This has certainly been a period of my life with a lot of tension! First, leaving the orphanage behind to come and stay in this unfamiliar place, and then that odd moment with Reeves last night. No wonder I slept so hard!
She felt a pang of guilt. She ought to have gotten up earlier. It was her responsibility to spend time with Emma—why hadn’t anyone come to wake her?
As she dressed, she paused to examine her ankle. Some of the swelling had gone down. It looked as if the physician had been right—it was already starting to heal. That was certainly a good thing, so why did she feel a pang of regret?
Because now Reeves won’t need to examine my injury any further.
Bridget gritted her teeth. If he had any idea how much that moment had impacted her, she had no idea what he would say. She didn’t want him to find out. She would have to keep it strictly to herself.
She dressed quickly and left the room. As she descended to the first floor, the sound of voices summoned her to the open doors of the ballroom. She stepped inside.
The room was surprisingly full. Reeves was there, perhaps least shockingly.
With his need to control everything that happened around him, of course he would have involved himself in this.
He was directing a few of the footmen on the task of decorating for the upcoming ball, and he didn’t seem to notice when Bridget came in.
But Emma, who had been standing with Agnes, noticed right away and came running over to fling her arms around Bridget’s waist.
Bridget caught her in an embrace. “I’m so sorry I slept late,” she said to Agnes, who was walking over. “I know I should have been with her.”
“It wasn’t a problem,” Agnes assured her. “We spent the morning practicing the piano together. Emma might like to show you later. Would you like that, Emma?”
Emma nodded happily. She ran out to the center of the ballroom, extended her arms, and began to turn in circles, dancing to her own rhythm.
Agnes lowered her head to speak to Bridget. “Norman was here this morning,” she said.
“Oh?” Bridget frowned. The fact that Norman had been here seemed unsurprising to her. From her experience with the man, she guessed that he and Reeves were very close friends. But Agnes did seem to think it was out of the ordinary. “What did he come over for?”
“That’s just it. I don’t know. He and Reeves were holed up in the sitting room, talking about something in low voices as if it were very serious, but they didn’t tell me what it was.
When I asked Reeves, he just told me that he didn’t want me to worry about it.
As if I could not worry about it with him acting like that! Of course I’m going to worry.”
“I wonder if I might be able to get it out of him,” Bridget mused.
She wouldn’t have liked her chances at such a thing until yesterday, but the energy between the two of them had shifted.
She no longer knew exactly how he felt toward her, but it wasn’t hatred or disdain.
There was something else there. And perhaps he would feel less protective toward her than he did toward his sister.
Maybe he would be willing to open up about whatever was going on.
It’s even possible that this is about me.
She felt heat rise to her cheeks at the thought.
Whatever was going on, it could be that it had to do with the moment she and Reeves had shared last night.
Maybe that was why he hadn’t sent anyone to wake her—maybe he hadn’t been any more ready to confront that than she was.
Does that mean he told Norman about it? That was an embarrassing thought. “I’ll have a talk with him and see what I can find out,” she said, hoping Agnes wouldn’t notice her moment of embarrassment.
“I wouldn’t hold out hope,” Agnes said darkly. “He’s being awfully withholding. I mean, even for him. He came in here about half an hour ago and started working on the preparations for the ball as if they were the most important thing in the world. He really doesn’t seem like himself at all.”
Bridget’s brow furrowed. “I wonder what that could be about. Maybe someone declined to come to the ball, and it has him upset.”
“Maybe, although it’s hard to imagine Reeves getting upset over something like that,” Agnes said. “And that also doesn’t feel right to me because, whatever’s going on, I think Emma knows about it.”
“Emma knows?” Bridget turned to look at her.
Her gaze was distant. She still spun in circles, and now Bridget noticed for the first time that her shoulders were hunched and her jaw was clenched.
The fact that she had spent the morning playing the piano had seemed like a good thing, a sign that she was relaxing, but she certainly didn’t look relaxed right now.
Well, if whatever is going on affects Emma, then it’s definitely my business. Determination crystallized within her. She crossed the floor to where Reeves stood talking to one of his footmen.
“May I speak with you?” she asked as soon as the footman had been sent off to accomplish a task.
Reeves turned to look at her.
Bridget’s heart skipped a beat. Just the sight of him was enough to put her right back on that window seat last night.
Her ankle tingled slightly at the memory of having his fingers there, and she felt her lips part as if in a gasp.
She bit them closed, determined not to allow him to see her reacting to what was going on.
"Did you need something?” he asked curtly.
Agnes had been right. He was hardly himself right now.
Not to say that Bridget had never seen this side of him—she had, of course.
But she had thought they’d moved beyond it, and that he was ready to be more open with her now.
He couldn’t be throwing these barriers back up because of what had happened last night, could he?
That had been his idea. She was the one who had been taken by surprise.
She was the one who ought to be pulling away, not him.
Bridget bit her lip. “I… well, I wanted to apologize for sleeping later than usual today.” It was as good a way to begin things as any.
“You don’t owe me any of your time,” he said.
“I should have been with Emma, though.”
“You don’t work for me, Bridget. You’re here to help her settle in, that’s all. In fact, once the ball is over, I think we should seriously consider that it might be time for you to head back to the orphanage.”
The words stopped Bridget’s heart briefly, and she heard herself suck in a breath. “You—you think it’s time for that already?”
“Yes. I appreciate the help you’ve given us, but this morning made it clear to me that Emma is capable of getting by without you. And this was never going to be a long-term solution. You know that as well as I do. I’m sure you want to return to the orphanage, don’t you?”
Bridget nodded slowly, beginning to recover herself.
Reeves was right, of course. She did want to go back.
She couldn’t help noticing that being away for as long as she had made her feel as if she were neglecting her duties, an unpleasant feeling that niggled at the back of her mind and never really went away.
And yet, it did shock her to realize that Reeves was ready for her to leave so soon. He had resisted her at first, threatening to send her back at every turn, but she’d thought they were beyond that now.
“Is this… because of last night?” she asked hesitantly, embarrassed to pose the question.
He didn’t mock her. Instead, he narrowed his eyes, and for a moment she thought he was angry with her. She took a quick step back. Did he blame her for what had happened between them? But how could he? She hadn’t initiated it.
“How do you know about last night?” he asked her.
Bridget struggled to make sense of the question.
“What do you mean?” she managed.
He gritted his teeth, and she saw his hands form fists. “There was a break-in,” he told her, his voice low. “A man came into the house and snuck into Emma’s room.
Bridget gasped, forgetting to keep quiet. The sound resonated around the ballroom, and both Emma and Agnes turned to look at her.
Reeves gripped her arm, perhaps a little more roughly than he might have meant to, and pulled her close. Lowering his voice, he growled, “Don’t make noise. I haven’t told Agnes about what happened.”
“Why on earth not?” Bridget asked. Her heart was pounding at the realization that something so serious and dangerous had taken place, and her mind raced trying to figure out what ought to be done next. “Don’t you think she should know? The whole household is in danger, Reeves.”
“There’s no danger. The man was run off before he could do anything, and we’re doubling the guard to make sure nothing like this happens again.”
“But this is why you’re sending me back to the orphanage,” she guessed. “You don’t want the added responsibility of having me in the house at a time like this.”
“It’s not about responsibility. You should be far away from here if we’re going to be attacked like that. You don’t need to be involved in what’s happening.”
She raised her eyebrows. “You just said there wasn’t any danger, though.”
Reeves sighed, a low growl escaping him. “Don’t make things difficult.”
“I don’t mean to do that, Reeves, but I’m not going to turn my back on things here. On Emma.” She paused. “Did she see the person in her room?”
Reeves nodded slowly.
“Then she needs to know that the people around her are going to protect her,” Bridget said staunchly. “Now more than ever, she needs us to show her that she isn’t alone.” She looked around at the half-decorated room. “And I think you should cancel this ball.”
“Absolutely not,” Reeves said firmly. “The ball goes ahead as planned.”
“Reeves, really, at a time like this …”
“This is already decided. I am not going to allow someone to break into my house and steal even a scrap of happiness away from my family. I’m not going to show the intruder that he’s scared me.
He hasn’t scared me. I’m alert to him, but I’m not afraid.
And we’re going to find out once and for all who it was that kidnapped my daughter! ”
His voice rose slightly at the end, and once more, Emma looked over toward the pair of them. Her face was stricken.
Oh, no, Bridget thought, realizing at once where this was almost certainly going.
She didn’t have a chance to say anything. Bridget turned away from them and fled the room.