Wild Lord Taggart

by Tammy Jo Burns

  “Something smells wonderful.”

  “There’s plenty. I’ll make you a plate,” Ruth said.

  “No, you stay put. I can get my own food.” He looked up in time to see her bestow a grateful smile on him. “Where’s Tally?”

  “Asleep, thank goodness. I’m not sure if I’m more irritable or she’s more active.”

  “Maybe both?” O’Connor asked, and gave his woman a loving kiss on the cheek.

  “Maybe.”

  Reese filled his plate and then joined the couple at the table. Something that Circe had said came to mind. “Sean, do you know a man named Samson that works for Lord Hayhurst?”

  “Samson? Yes, I know of him. Why?”

  “He hasn’t come to join us has he?”

  “No,” Sean shook his head in the negative. “Why? Has someone said otherwise?”

  “In a roundabout fashion. Evidently he has left Lord Hayhurst’s employ. Lady Hayhurst is convinced he’s come to work with us.” He looked up in time to see Sean and Ruth exchange worried glances. “What’s going on?”

  “What do you mean?” Sean asked.

  “I saw those looks the two of you exchanged. What’s going on?”

  “If Samson is missing, I don’t think it’s a good thing.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “O’Connor! O’Connor!” someone shouted from beyond the patio.

  Both Sean and Reese stood and exited the house, but it was Reese who spoke to the man that had yelled for Sean. “What is it?”

  “My nephew works on Lord Hayhurst’s plantation and he said the master is bad ill,” one of the men that worked with them said.

  “What does that mean?”

  “I don’t know, sir. The mistress has also taken ill.”

  “Which mistress? The wife or the niece?” Reese demanded, his heart racing in fear.

  “I don’t know, sir. I just thought he meant the wife. Didn’t know there’s a niece livin’ there, God help her.”

  “What’s that mean?”

  “Ye haven’t told him?”

  “Not everything.”

  “Told me what?”

  “Now’s not the time. Go check on Miss Hayhurst, but take a gun with you, and be on your guard.”

  “As soon as I get back, you’re telling me what in bloody hell is going on at that house.”

  “I’ll get the horse ready for you,” Sean said as he left Reese standing on the patio. The other man had slipped off into the darkness while Reese had been talking to Sean.

  He tunneled his fingers through his hair in frustration. Someone was going to have to start giving him some answers…soon. He ran up to his bedroom, grabbed his gun belt, and buckled it around his lean hips. He retrieved the pistol that fit in it, made certain it was loaded, and holstered the gun. Reese hadn’t any idea as to what he was going to find when he got there, but he did know one thing, he had to keep Circe safe no matter what.

  “Be careful,” O’Connor said as Reese mounted the horse.

  “I will.” Reese pushed the horse harder than he had a right to, but worry for Circe motivated him. He rode up to Hayhurst’s house in less than ten minutes and it looked as if the house itself was in mourning. He dismounted and tied the horse’s reins through the loop on the hitching post. He climbed the stairs and before he could put his fist to the door, it flew open, and his arms were full of a crying Circe.

  * * *

  Circe was in her room and had managed to pull herself together. She walked to the balcony and stood there, not seeing the beautiful view spread out in front of her. She felt no calmer. Her world had been turned upside down in a matter of… How long had it been since she had left Reese on the drive? Minutes? Hours? Time had ceased to exist for her.

  The frantic clip-clopping of horse’s hooves drew her attention to the drive.

  “Reese?” she asked softly, squinting in the darkness. “It is!” She turned, left the room, and practically flew down the stairs. She opened the front door, threw herself into his arms, and let the tears come once more. Circe felt herself floating, but she did not care. Reese was here. When did he become so important to me? she asked herself. Pushing the question aside, she just gripped his neck tighter.

  “Love, you’re choking me,” he whispered against her neck.

  She loosened her hold somewhat, but refused to let go of him. She was no longer floating. Curious, she lifted her head and looked around the room. They were in Uncle Robert’s study and they were sitting on the settee with her half lying against Reese. The door was firmly shut.

  “You’re all right?” he asked, cupping her cheeks and forcing her to look up at him.

  “Yes,” she mumbled.

  “Thank God. I was worried something had happened to you. It took years off my life.”

  “But how did you know to come?”

  “One of my partners has a relative that works for your uncle.”

  “News travels fast and bad news travels faster.”

  “Something like that. What happened?”

  “Dorothea lost the baby and Uncle Robert has had some sort of attack. It is all my fault. If I had not argued with her then—”

  “Then nothing. These things happen, for whatever reason, and you’re not to blame yourself.”

  “They do.”

  “They are just upset.”

  “Are they? What if Uncle Robert does not live? What will happen then?”

  “We will deal with it when the time comes, but I don’t believe you’ll have anything to worry about. From what I have seen of your uncle, he’s tough.”

  “Thank you for coming, Reese.”

  “I wouldn’t be anywhere else. Now, you rest,” he said as he clutched her tightly to him and dropped a kiss on the top of her head.

  She knew she should pry herself out of his arms and go up to her room. She should see him out of the house and on his way back to his home. There were so many things she should do at that moment, but what she wanted to do was stay exactly where she was, in Reese’s strong comforting arms, and just be held and protected.

  * * *

  The door hidden in the wall closed quietly. This is definitely an interesting development, Dorothea thought to herself before she crept silently through the passageway back to her room. She stopped at her wardrobe and opened it. After wedging a fingernail between two of the boards on the floor, she was able to remove one of them, revealing a hidden compartment. Dorothea reached inside and pulled out a scroll tied with a leather strap. She replaced the board, shut the wardrobe, and crossed the room to her escritoire.

  Dorothea took a moment to sit down and unroll the papers. She spread them out and carefully read over them, a sinister smile lifted the corners of her lips. She pulled back the curtain and looked outside. It was turning out to be a beautiful night. The only irritant thus far was the fact that the man downstairs had the wrong woman in his arms. That would soon be rectified. Let them have their moment, for Reese Taggart would be hers soon enough.

  She stood and gathered her inkwell, feather quill pen, and the papers she needed. She walked across her bedchamber to the connecting door that would allow her to enter Robert’s bedchamber. Dorothea strode casually to her husband’s bedside and placed the items on the side table. She perched beside him on his mattress and took his hand in hers.

  “Robert, darling, can you hear me?”

  A soft moan was the response.

  “Robert?”

  “Dot?” he asked softly. His eyes squinted against the light in an attempt to see her. “How are you, love?”

  “Much better than you. You shouldn’t be up.”

  “Darling there’s nothing wrong with me,” she cooed.

  “The babe…”

  “Never existed,” she said.

  “What?” His eyes flew open and met hers. A deep ‘V’ formed between his brows as he tried to make sense of her words.

  “I was never carrying your child. Not this time nor any other time.”

&n
bsp; “But—

  “Oh, poor, sweet, naïve Robert. You are my third husband. The previous two did not produce children. Did you truly think I would ruin my body to produce and heir for you?”

  “Love you,” he muttered.

  “That’s so very sweet. They all tell me that. It’s too bad they didn’t choose another woman to marry. They might all still be alive with children running about, but then I wouldn’t have the wealth that I’ve accumulated, would I?”

  “I’ll be well soon,” he promised her softly. “I will see you pay.”

  “I don’t think so,” Dot replied.

  “What?”

  “Darling, I have something I want you to sign.”

  He looked at her curiously.

  She spread the papers out for him and dipped the tip of the quill in the ink. “Sign here,” she said, indicating where he should sign.

  “What is this?” he managed to ask.

  “Don’t you trust me, darling?”

  “Not anymore.”

  “Oh, darling, don’t become stubborn here at the end. It is so unlike you. You are usually so docile and considerate. Now, sign here,” she ordered with more force than before.

  “No.”

  “I didn’t want to have to do this, but you leave me no choice.” She lay the pen down on the table and reached in her pocket to withdraw a vial. She uncorked the small bottle, forced the liquid into his mouth, and then pinched his nose closed and forced his mouth shut until he swallowed the concoction.

  “What was that?” he gasped when she pulled away from him.

  “Something to make you a little more agreeable. It shouldn’t take long for the effects to start working.”

  Robert pushed himself up in the bed and swiped the papers to the floor. He tried to stand up, but his legs were limp and would not hold his weight. He bowed his head and wiped his hands over his face. He looked up but could not make anything come into focus. “What have you done to me? Why now?”

  “I need your cooperation, darling, and you just weren’t giving it to me. Besides, now I find I want to be mistress of Windcrest Plantation. Lord Taggart is such a delicious man. True, he needs to be educated on the ways of the island, but that shouldn’t be hard to do. With the combination of Briar Rose and Windcrest, I will control almost all of the southern tip of the island.”

  “I…” He fell backwards on the bed.

  Dorothea paced the room until she heard him waking up once more. She walked over to his side and helped him maneuver himself until he was propped back up on the bed, the pillows helping him to sit up. Dorothea bent over to retrieve the papers he had thrown to the floor earlier. “Darling, here are those papers you asked me to bring you.”

  “What?”

  “Remember, you said you wanted to sign something before it was too late.”

  “But I’ll be well soon,” he mumbled.

  “Oh, darling, I don’t think you will,” she murmured with mock sadness. “Now, just sign your name here.”

  When she placed the quill in his hand and put it against the paper where he needed to sign, he scrawled his name across the page. Dorothea practically jumped with glee. She gathered everything up and rushed it back to her room and placed it on the escritoire. She had one more thing she had to do. She entered Robert’s room once more and studied his relaxed frame.

  “It’s a shame it has come to this,” she told him as she reached out and threaded one of his cravats behind his neck. “Of all my husbands, you have truly been the most kind…and the most gullible.”

  “What are you doing?”

  “I think you should look your best when you are going to meet St. Peter, don’t you?” she asked. She made a loose knot and slipped a small stick inside before tightening it. Then Dorothea slowly began to twist the stick.

  “Dot!” Robert’s eyes flew open pleading with her to stop. His hands gripped her wrists and his fingernails dug into the tender inner skin of her wrist, but he was weak and she was stronger than she looked.

  She continued to tighten the cravat and his struggles became more and more sporadic. Finally, his hands let go of her wrists and fell to the mattress. Even then, she held the cravat in place until she was absolutely certain that he breathed no more. Dorothea quickly undid the cravat and tossed the cloth in with his other soiled clothes and tossed the small stick out his balcony doors. She closed his eyes, buttoned his nightshirt up to his neck, and then brushed a kiss on his lifeless lips. She turned around and walked back to her room, shutting the door behind her.

  Dorothea moved quickly and put away the paper and the vial and placed the ink and quill back where it belonged. She would have to replace the old will with the new will once the study was vacated, but that would not be any trouble in the chaos that would ensue once word spread that the master was dead. She crawled into bed and waited for someone to tell her that her husband had succumbed to his illness. While she waited, she hatched a plan as to how she was going to win Wild Lord Taggart from Circe. She also thought of all the deliciously wild things she would do with the man. Dorothea fell asleep with an evil grin flirting with her lips.

  * * *

  Circe was startled awake by something. She looked around the room and tried to determine what it was. She felt hot, moist air against her neck. She turned her head to see Reese, sitting on the settee in her uncle’s study with his arms wrapped around her waist. Her heart melted a little at the sight. He had come here concerned about her welfare, not Dorothea’s. Perhaps that meant he really had not instigated the kiss she had walked up on. She twisted in his arms so they were chest to chest. She draped one arm around his neck while the other moved under his arm so she could rest her palm on his back. Circe studied Reese’s face.

  Worry lines were etched in his forehead. There were also lines fanning out from his eyes and bracketing his sensual lips. She reached up and traced the ones around his mouth, hidden beneath the roughness of his whiskers. Circe leaned closer to him, pressing her lips to his, kissing him softly. Her breasts flattened against his chest, but her nipples tightened into peaks at their close proximity. She continued to kiss him in a teasing manner.

  “This is a nice way to wake up,” Reese murmured.

  “Is it?”

  “Yes, but you know what’s even better?”

  “Hmmm?”

  “This,” he muttered before taking her mouth in a passionate kiss. His tongue traced her lips causing her to gasp in shock and giving him an opportunity to deepen the kiss. Their tongues continued an intimate dance, but when he finally ended it, he smiled. “You’re a quick study,” he complimented her.

  “It would seem that my tutor is an expert in such matters,” she responded.

  “Well, let’s not waste any of my expertise,” Reese replied returning to her plump lips.

  He moved a hand between them and rested it lightly on her stomach. Circe took a deep breath and willed Reese’s hand to slide upwards and cup her heavy, aching breasts. She could feel his hand creeping upwards but it was too slow. She wiggled in anticipation.

  “You’re going to have to remain still, sweetheart,” he said.

  “Why?”

  “I can only take so much. We’re not going so far that I can’t stop. Understand?”

  “But—”

  “No. You aren’t that type of woman. You need to go to your husband pure or you will never forgive yourself.”

  His words got to her as nothing else could. It was as if she had fallen through the ice of a frozen pond. She pushed away from him and slid off his lap.

  “We can still have fun, sweetheart. Your kisses are the sweetest I’ve ever tasted. I’d like to see if the rest of you tastes the same.”

  “I should be shocked by your words, but somehow I am not.” She walked to the window and saw that the sun was rising on the horizon. “Reese, I—”

  Her words were cut off by an earsplitting scream. Reese jumped up and joined Circe who was already flinging the study door open and racing upstairs
towards the sound. She followed the loud keening to her uncle’s room. The door stood open and when she entered with Reese behind her, it was to see Dorothea collapsed in a heap on the floor, yelling the word No over and over and rocking herself.

  “What’s wrong?” Circe demanded.

  “It’s Lord Hayhurst,” her uncle’s valet said flatly.

  “Has he taken a turn for the worst?” Circe asked with dread, but she turned, looked at the bed, and she knew. Her uncle’s coloring was unnatural, and when she stumbled to his side and placed a hand on his, she felt how cold his skin was to the touch. She sat on the mattress and rubbed her hand up and down his arm as if that would bring warmth to his lifeless body once again. “Uncle Robert, no,” she sobbed.

  “Circe,” Reese said, coming up behind her and placing his hands on her shoulders.

  “No,” she shrugged him off. “I should have been up here, taking care of him. If I had not been downstairs with you he would still be alive. Do you not see how this is all my fault? I argued with Dorothea and caused her to lose the baby, and then Uncle Robert was so upset that he had an attack. I should have been here for him. I killed him!” she yelled at Reese.

  “You didn’t kill anyone. They were circumstances that you couldn’t control.”

  “I could control arguing with her, but chose not to. It is my fault. I have cost this family two lives.”

  Reese bent down and swooped her up in his arms. She struggled against him, kicking her legs and pushing at him, but he refused to let her go. He carried her from her uncle’s room.

  “Where’s your bedroom?” Her body was wracked by sobs and he knew he wasn’t going to get an answer from her. “Where’s Miss Hayhurst’s bedchamber?” he called to anyone nearby.

  “This way,” a maid urged and opened a door for him. “I’m Molly, her maid. What can I do for her?”

  He walked inside and placed her on her bed where she curled up in the fetal position. She was locked in her own world of pain and misery, and unfortunately, there was nothing he could do about it right now. “I want you to stay with her. I will begin the arrangements for Lord Hayhurst’s interment.”