“She almost blew up in my face. I’ve never seen a woman get quite that angry or turn so green.” He knew it was cruel, but he couldn’t help but chuckle at the memory. “I hope she made it to the basin.”
“Get used to it,” David warned. “Pregnant women are often nauseated. I’m told morning sickness is a force to be reckoned with.”
Reese took another sip of his brandy. “I should have ordered some champagne along with the coffee this morning, but I was too busy suffering to worry about her.”
“Well, you’d better get used to worrying about her.” David chuckled at Reese’s puzzled expression. “She’s your responsibility for the rest of the year.”
“And Joy,” Reese said thoughtfully. “Don’t forget about Joy.”
“Or the baby,” David reminded him. “The whole purpose of this unorthodox scheme is to produce a baby.” He smiled at Reese, a dimple creasing his left cheek. “Looks like you’re about to have the family you’ve always craved, Reese.”
Reese frowned, his eyebrows knitting his forehead. He hadn’t realized his needs were that transparent. “It’s time. Most men already have families by the time they reach my age. I’m not getting any younger. I don’t want to be too old to enjoy my son.”
“Ancient at thirty-one,” David teased. “I hope you enjoyed yourself last night and sowed all your wild oats.” David was well aware of how Reese had passed his time after leaving Faith Collins at the hotel.
“I played cards,” Reese told him, “and I drank. I didn’t indulge the ladies. Or myself.”
“Very circumspect behavior.” David grinned at his cousin. “And good practice. Because it looks like you’re going to be on a very tight rein from now on.” His eyes sparkled with mischief as he opened his mouth to add further insult.
But Reese was quicker. He raised his arm, and the wet, soapy sponge went flying through the air, leaving a trail of bathwater in its wake. It sailed the length of the tub to collide with David Alexander’s big mouth.
“You were saying?” Reese taunted.
“I ought to keep my damn mouth shut.” David accepted Reese’s taunt good-naturedly. He tossed the sponge back, then dried his face with a towel, got up from the chair, and walked to the door. “I think I’ll check on the ladies.”
“I’m going to take a short nap,” Reese told him. “Why don’t you tactfully suggest Faith do the same?”
“With you? Or alone?” David couldn’t resist.
“Alone.” Reese laughed. “I’m not a complete fool. I do know when to retreat.”
“I’m relieved to hear it,” David commented dryly, “because the lady in question is likely to make mincemeat of you if you cross her path before sundown.”
“I’ll have to take my chances. Our train leaves at five-ten this afternoon. What about yours?”
“A couple of hours later. I thought I’d take Miss Hamilton out to dinner before we head back to Richmond. It’s the least I can do after forcing her to witness this morning’s battle.” David dreaded the long trip to Richmond and back, but he was committed to escorting Temperance Hamilton home.
Reese stood up in the tub. He wrapped a towel around his hips. “Wake me up in a couple of hours. Oh, and David…”
“Yeah?”
“I left a name on my desk.”
“So?”
“See what you can dig up on him while you’re in Richmond.”
“Do you want me to ask the aunts?”
“No. Keep it quiet. Be discreet.”
David smiled. He was an expert at nosing around. He’d learned the ropes from Pinkerton himself. They both had.
He walked into the next room and retrieved the slip of paper from Reese’s desk. He smiled when he read the name. Reese might pretend a casual curiosity, but David wasn’t fooled. He glanced at the paper a second time, then flipped it into the fireplace.
Champ Collins.
Chapter Twelve