The Price of Pleasure by Connie Mason Page A

next order of business. He walked to the Red Fox Inn, where he had stayed before, and paid for a room, meal and bath. He ate an excellent meal consisting of good English beef, roasted potatoes and apple cobbler smothered in fresh cream while his room was being prepared.
    Reed was delighted to find a bath waiting in his room, along with the items he had purchased at the men’s emporium, which had been delivered to his room while he ate. Reed undressed quickly and climbed into the tub, reaching for the soap sitting on a nearby bench with a towel.
    Reed lingered in the bath until the water cooled, then rubbed his body dry with the towel and stretched out naked on the bed.
    A pained expression crossed his face when he thought of Fleur. He intended to speak to Porter about her dangerous mission as soon as he returned to London. Porter was the only one who could order her return to England, and Reed intended to encourage him to do so.
    His stomach comfortably full, his body clean, Reed promptly fell asleep. He didn’t awaken until late the following morning. After a substantial breakfast, he left the inn to purchase a horse. He had good luck there, too. He found a feisty black gelding with good lines and strong teeth at the livery. The price was fair so Reed closed the deal immediately. The owner was so pleased he threw in a perfectly acceptable saddle and tack. Reed named the gelding Ebony and rode him back to the inn.
    Reed spent the rest of the day in idleness, much of it contemplating Fleur and wondering if they would ever meet again. An hour did not go by without his thinking about her.
    Reed’s new clothes arrived early the following morning, just as promised. He donned them, pleased with the fit, and left the inn on Ebony’s back after a satisfying breakfast. Reed smiled to himself. If he kept on eating like this, his new riding costume wouldn’t fit much longer.
    Three days later, Reed reached Hunthurst Park in Kent. He rode around to the stables at the rear of the house and turned Ebony over to a stableman he didn’t recognize.
    “What happened to Dobson?” Reed asked.
    “He was let go after the earl’s death, sir,” the man answered. “For some reason Lady Helen and the new earl didn’t like him.”
    Lady Helen, Jason’s wife. Who in bloody hell was calling himself the new earl? Something strange was going on here, but Reed kept his questions to himself. “Who are you?”
    “Potter, sir,” the man said, touching his forelock. “Are you visiting the Park?”
    “I am Reed Harwood, the new Earl of Hunthurst, the deceased earl’s brother.”
    Potter turned white. “Lud, you’re dead!”
    “As you can see, I’m very much alive, Potter. Is Lady Helen in residence?”
    “Aye, my lord. My lady and her sister, Lady Dewbury, live here when they’re not in London. The new earl is also in residence.”
    “
I
am the new earl,” Reed said between clenched teeth.
    “But . . . but they told us you were dead.”
    “I beg to differ, Potter. I am not a ghost.”
    Reed turned abruptly and strode off. Who was this imposter posing as the new earl? The only male relative who could claim the earldom if he, himself, were dead was his distant French cousin, and as far as Reed knew, Gallard Duvall was in France.
    Reed walked around to the front entrance and used the brass knocker to announce his arrival. Though the house was now his, he felt uncomfortable barging in. A butler Reed didn’t recognize answered the door. Reed stepped past him into the elegant entry hall.
    “How many I help you, sir?” the butler asked.
    “Who are you?”
    Apparently taken aback by Reed’s rude question, he stiffened and said, “Lawson, sir. May I ask who is calling?”
    Footsteps sounded on the marble staircase. Reed looked up and saw Helen descending. She reached the bottom landing and strode toward the door.
    “Do we have visitors, Lawson?”
    “Yes, my lady, but he has yet to give his name.”
    “Kindly tell Lawson who I am,