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jealous. Ridiculous after all of these years. He took a deep breath, shoving the unexpected emotions away.
    Elizabeth looked up at him. “I think Mason is trying to gain control of my mind and my body and in doing so, gain control of my son and his fortune.”
    He replayed the things she had told him. He had no idea how much of what she was saying was true, but the way she had fainted dead away last night made him believe it was possible.
    “Assuming what you’re telling me is true, how do you believe Mason is managing all of this?”
    “I don’t…I don’t know. Some sort of drug, perhaps, laced into my food. I tried not eating for a while, but I began to feel weak and since I wasn’t certain if food was the problem or if I was wrong entirely, I gave up the notion.”
    “And you never saw a physician?”
    She swallowed, took a sip of her tea as if it fortified her somehow. She set the cup back down on the table, moving tendrils of curly black hair, loose from the knot at the nape of her neck, against her pale cheek. Beneath the table, his body stirred to life. His groin began to fill and Reese swore a silent oath.
    He needed a woman, he told himself. A single trip to Madame Lafon’s exclusive London bordello had not been enough to ease a man’s needs after so many months.
    “Mason brought someone in to see me,” Elizabeth continued, returning his mind to the subject. “A doctor named Smithson. He said I would be fine. I didn’t know him. I’m not certain he was a doctor at all.”
    “My brother’s physician is reliable. I’ll have him here as soon as it can be arranged.” Reese waited to see if she would agree or if her purported illness was some sort of ruse.
    “I think that is a good idea. I’ll be happy to pay him, of course.”
    A thread of anger trickled through him. “You might be rich, Countess, but you are a guest here and as such under my care. I am hardly a pauper. Though I suppose compared to an earl it might seem so to you.”
    “I didn’t mean—”
    He rose from his chair, the legs grating on the polishedwooden floor. Reaching down, he picked up his cane. “I have things to do. I believe your son is expecting you.”
    Elizabeth said nothing, just sat there staring up at him with big gray wounded eyes. Reese turned away, determined to ignore the twinge of guilt he felt at his harsh words.
    He owed Elizabeth nothing. Less than nothing, he told himself as made his way out of the breakfast room.

Four
    R eese sent a note to his brother, Royal, that morning, asking him the name of his physician, a doctor who lived near Swansdowne, but leaving out the reason why. He knew all bloody hell would break loose if Royal found out Elizabeth was staying in Reese’s house.
    She wouldn’t be there for long, he assured himself. He would see her off to London, perhaps as soon as tomorrow.
    The doctor arrived earlier than he expected. At two o’clock that afternoon, a reed-thin, silver-haired gentleman named Richard Long walked into the foyer. Pleading another headache, Elizabeth had returned upstairs to bed. Reese escorted Dr. Long upstairs to examine her, introduced him to the wan-looking woman beneath the covers, then went down to his study to await the doctor’s verdict.
    Reese tried to concentrate on the ledgers still lying on his desk, but as usual, his attention continued to stray. He told himself he wasn’t worried about Elizabeth, just anxious for her to get well enough to leave his house.
    He was staring down at the numbers written on thepage in front of him when a light knock sounded, noting the physician’s arrival. Reese beckoned him in and Dr. Long sat down in a brown leather chair on the opposite side of Reese’s big oak desk.
    “How is she?” he asked, a question he couldn’t have imagined posing even a few days ago.
    “Not well, I’m afraid. Lady Aldridge is extremely fatigued. She has started to perspire and I believe she may soon start vomiting. I left one of the maids