Anabelle Bryant: The Last Gamble

‘I see.’ She toyed with the handle of her teacup as if hesitant to continue. ‘You would be proud, if I may be so bold. Nathaniel is a fine young lad, bright as a new star and handsome to boot.’ She smiled and it eased the tightness in his chest another degree.

‘Thank you for that.’ The governess was kind as well as beautiful. Despite he lived daily with serious considerations on his mind, his body worked on another more elemental level, and he couldn’t help but notice the brilliance of Miss Smith’s smile and lovely appeal. ‘I find strength in the knowledge that Nathaniel is safe despite his whereabouts remain unknown. I don’t believe my half-brother will harm my son, but one can never be sure. People show different faces to the world depending on their necessity. Dursley perpetuates a veneer of honesty but he is no more than a manipulative cur.’ Her teacup rattled on the saucer as she replaced it. Perhaps he’d spoken too vehemently. ‘My apologies.’ He regretted upsetting her.

‘Think nothing of it.’

Georgina watched Mr Reese and admired his courageous determination. His half-brother had stolen his only child, his wife had died… how much was one individual expected to endure? She tried to imagine the pain he held in check and failed. If she ever fell in love she wanted it to be for ever, a long, happy life with several children as delightful as Nate.

What would Mr Reese think if he discovered the lie she lived each day? Governess? Smith? Neither were true. Perhaps he would never need to know, their association short-lived. She hoped so because somehow the unforgivable notion of disappointing Mr Reese, Luke , threatened to stay with her indefinitely. She could not be the cause of further betrayal, another thorn in his heart. His final words struck a personal chord.

With her guilt overflowing, she vowed to pen a letter to her parents that evening, assure them of her safety and wellbeing and bring it to post tomorrow first thing. It was the least she could do to ease their concern. How selfishly she’d behaved. Perhaps they worried in the same tormenting manner Mr Reese agonized over Nate’s whereabouts and security.

Now to assuage Mr Reese’s concern. When she looked into his lovely grey eyes, her heart raced with anxious ambition to soothe his suffering. ‘Nathaniel was very happy in my care. He took to Biscuit right away and the two would play for hours in the garden when he finished his letters and numbers.’

Mr Reese’s brows rose as if surprised.

‘Does he not ordinarily enjoy dogs?’

‘No, not that. Your pug.’ He laughed a low chuckle that skittered through her. ‘The name suits.’ Then he flashed a grin and she couldn’t help notice the dimple in his right cheek. Nate had a smaller mark, a precursor of the lethal weapon his appeal would wield one day. In kind, it seemed Mr Reese had no idea of the power in that charming dimple. His smile proved an armament of great impact. Were he to turn that flirtatious grin on any available female, all defences would crumble in less than an instant. Hers certainly did.

She stared at his face a moment longer, her intent focus on his mouth, her throat gone dry. This was no child in front of her, this was a man. A very handsome man with silver-grey eyes, obsidian hair, and a fading smile which reminded by way of dimple he had one purpose in life: to find his son. Botheration, she needed to get her imagination under control before she fantasized all sorts of inappropriate suggestions that had nothing to do with the singular reason Mr Reese had sought her out in the first place.

‘Viscount Dursley paid me in cash and left no address. Unfortunately, that’s all I know.’ Wishing she could supply more and ease his worry, she touched her hand to his sleeve, surprised at the strength beneath the cloth, allstrong, hard muscle , and forced herself to draw back, though an equalled desire insisted she pull forward instead. ‘I’m happy to have reassured you although I feel at a loss in furthering your pursuit of Nathaniel. Is there another way I can help?’ There must be something she could do. She’d truly enjoyed the short time she’d cared for Nate. How wretched the circumstance now she’d learned the truth. She’d only just met Mr Reese but his predicament warranted she assist in his search in any manner possible.

He remained quiet a beat too long. Did he consider her offer with great intent or become lost in a remembrance of his precious son? Where had his mind darted? Another beat and his eyes caught hers with a keen interest she found mesmerizing, as if he worked to decipher her, unlock her resistance and steal the contents of her thoughts. When at last he spoke, his words shocked her to the core.

‘Yes, thank you, I accept your gracious offer. We’ll leave for London first thing tomorrow morning.’

‘London.’ She gasped, the two syllables strangling her throat. ‘I can’t go to London.’ Outrage, surprise, panic; all three rose in protestation to jade her objection in high pitch as she jumped from her chair, nearly upsetting the tea service in the process.

‘Wait, please, Miss Smith.’ His voice sounded a distant call amidst the ambient conversations at the other tables.

He rose as well but it was too late. Her heart hammered faster than her heels tapped retreat on the wooden floor, a hollow, jarring sound that echoed in her pulse and labelled her a coward. She couldn’t go to London. She’d run from London. Fled the horrid circumstances created by her foolish choices and naïve stupidity. No, London was out of the question and she was out the door.

She knew he would follow her, his cause more precious than hers, more desperate too. Mr Reese sought to find his child and, as it should be, would not take her refusal without a fight. Still, a shade of sadness accompanied the acknowledgement because she would not return to London. She couldn’t. Not ever.

Chapter Four

‘Wait.’ Luke managed to catch Miss Smith with little effort, his stride eating up the pavement and falling into pace beside her before he lost breath. ‘Please allow me to explain.’

‘There’s no need.’ She didn’t look at him. Gone was the congenial kindness and soft-spoken sincerity witnessed at the teahouse. Miss Smith appeared as scared as a hunted rabbit, dashing glances to the roadway and beyond to the horizon, her blue eyes alight with a wild gleam. From what did she run? Her hurried escape provided all the evidence needed to realize she feared something, some scandal or danger. Frightened to a degree that she would change her name and avoid a city of thousands.

He continued his pursuit though the puzzling reaction wouldn’t release his curiosity. He hardly knew the woman, yet some part of him worried for her predicament. She’d cared for Nate and shown kindness to his son. From what she’d mentioned, Nate enjoyed the time spent in her charge. At the least he owed her a little latitude in her unexpected reaction.

She scurried up the slates in front of her cottage, her hand at work inside her reticule for the key. He couldn’t allow her to enter without hearing him out. He needed to change her mind. He had to. It was his only hope. A lump formed in his throat and he swallowed hard, forcing it away. ‘Miss Smith, if you’ll listen a moment about London.’

Two paces from the front door she whirled in his direction, an immediate objection on her lips, but the motion, combined with her harried steps, caused the key to fall straight into the flowerbed beside the path. He leapt to recover it first, only meaning to hold it hostage long enough to gain her attention, but the lady bent twice as quickly and snatched the key along with a wayward flower stem. She inserted the key into the lock before he could stop her, because, aside from words, what other means did he have? He wouldn’t lay a hand on her person and dare frightening her further.