by Kim Bowman
Except she didn’t want to call them back.
She loved him. There was no helping it. She had loved him a very, very long time, and would not be sorry for it.
Adam’s expression grew shuttered. “I… thank you.”
Thank you?
Georgina swore she could hear her own heart rending beneath her breast. She took a deep breath. His love would not come overnight. He’d loved Grace for many years; he could not so easily switch his affections to her, plump plain Georgina Wilcox.
Pride leeched into her spine, stiffening it. No, not Wilcox. Markham. Grace may have had Adam at some point, but she had given him up. He belonged to her now. He might not love her — yet — but she would do everything in her power to change that.
She smiled up at him as if she’d not just had her words of love offset by a courteously polite response. Searching for something, anything to shift the conversation, she said, “Were you looking for me?”
His relieved-sounding sigh indicated he was just as eager to discuss anything but her awkward profession of love. “My mother came by.”
Georgina’s stomach twisted into a painful knot. She thought she might rather discuss her words of love than discuss his mother. “I… uh… how lovely.”
His lips twitched at her obvious lie. “We discussed your debut.”
“My debut?” To her own ears, she sounded like the parrot capable of mimicry she’d once seen at a fair in Bristol.
“My mother wants to help you—help us,” he amended.
Georgina wanted to stamp her foot in protest. She didn’t want to have a debut. In fact, she’d be quite content to disappear to some far-flung corner of the world to keep reality from intruding on her and Adam’s growing feelings for each other. Adam smiled, but Georgina could see the nervous lines of tension at the corners of his mouth and knew her response meant a great deal. She sighed, relenting. She would do anything for him. Even if it meant going out like a lamb to the slaughter.
“I’d be glad for her help,” she murmured.
Adam raised her hand to his lips. “I will not leave you alone. We’ll do this all together, Georgina. I’m sure the moment my mother left she’d already contacted the most respected dance instructor and tutors.”
Tutors?
Dance instructors?
It made sense. Why would Adam ever suspect she’d already been trained in the most popular dances? Why should he think she spoke French, Italian, and a smattering of Latin? Her father had scoffed at her ability to acquire languages, said a lady only had a need for the basic elements of a language. Nonetheless, Georgina was fairly fluent.
Adam only knew her as the battered maid in Bristol. He didn’t know that her father was a wealthy merchant or that she’d had her own Bristol version of a Season. She gulped as she faced the growing realization that it would be harder and harder to keep her many lies straight.
Adam nuzzled her neck, and her body shivered in heated response. “I want to make love to you,” he whispered against her ear.
Georgina’s head fell back on a groan and, there for any servant who happened to pass by, Adam swept her into his office. He kicked the door shut with the heel of his boot and proceeded to make love to her.
And Georgina allowed herself to believe that mayhap it would all turn out all right.
Fox has earned Emmet’s displeasure. He defied Emmet’s orders to focus on supplying United Irish veterans with muskets. Instead, Fox believes the cause is best served by determining the identities of The Brethren.
Signed,
A Loyal British Subject
Chapter 16
When he’d made the claim to his mother that Georgina would not need more than the four winter months to prepare for the Season, Adam had secretly been filled with hesitancy.
Georgina completed the intricate steps of a quadrille with Tony.
He grinned. His wife was a woman of many talents.
Since his tense wedding day, Mother had come around where Georgina was concerned. With her kind spirit and genuine warmth, it would appear Georgina had charmed his mother. Even Nick appeared to be more easy-spirited around Georgina.
But then, Georgina had that effect on people. She said something to Tony, who threw his head back and laughed uproariously. His brother stumbled over his feet, and nearly took Georgina down with him. At the last moment, he righted his footing and prevented them from crashing to the floor. They collapsed into a fit of laughter.
Adam smiled. Initially, he’d battled waves of jealousy over Tony’s seeming infatuation with his wife. Tony, however, had been Adam and Georgina’s greatest ally and, eying him as he moved her down a line of imaginary dancers, Adam could forgive his little brother’s seeming fascination. Georgina’s quiet hesitancy and fear had lifted, replaced by this gay, sparkling wood fairy. How could Tony not be charmed?
Roses filled her full cheeks, the crimson stain matching the color of her sinfully perfect plump lips. It would appear Fox and Hunter were no more than a distant memory — for both of them. Oh, the traitorous bastards lingered; Adam suspected they always would. But, for him, the nightmares came hardly at all.
The same could not be said for his wife. There were times Adam awakened in a cold sweat, only to realize it was Georgina gripped by an unshakeable terror. He would take her in his arms, willing her back to him, guiding her with the soothing strength of his voice.
Tony drew to a stop and bowed, murmuring something to Georgina. She spun around. Her gaze alighted on him, her eyes sparkling like a million stars on a cloudless night.
She hurried over to him. “Adam!” She hesitated then dipped into a formal curtsy.
He bowed. “Mrs. Markham.”
“Tony was just helping me refine the steps of the quadrille,” she explained.
“I think you have well-mastered it, wife.” Nor was that a platitude; Georgina moved as gracefully as if she’d done it her entire life. The dance instructor they’d hired had marveled at his student’s innate ability.
Georgina had modestly brushed off the man’s compliments, but there was no denying she possessed a natural grace and elegance on the dance floor.
Tony sauntered up to them. “Your wife could have given that old instructor lessons,” he said with a wink.
She blushed prettily and gave her head a shake. “My head is going to explode from all your compliments.”
Tony smiled in response. “Your wife picked up Latin, Italian, and French in almost three months’ time. She’s as skilled a dancer as any I’ve seen.” He shook his head. “It’s hard to believe with all her talent the one skill she doesn’t possess is a singing voice.”
Adam started. “What…?” Georgina’s voice could shame a choir of angels.
Brown, panicky eyes met his, and Adam realized she didn’t want Tony to know about her voice. His brow furrowed. In fact, come to think on it, he’d spent so many of his days making passionate love to Georgina and squiring her about London, it had escaped his notice until now that she’d not sung since they’d been reunited.
She had her lower lip between her teeth, worrying the flesh. “I’d imagine there isn’t a thing Georgina isn’t accomplished at,” Adam said instead. Her shoulders seemed to lift on a relieved exhale. The glowing smile was back in place. He held his hand out. “Will you waltz with me?”
Her gasp blended with Tony’s guffaw of amusement. “If Mother finds out you’ve taught Georgina the waltz, her head will spin in circles.”
Adam’s lips quirked. “When did you start to worry about what Mother thinks?”
Tony inclined his head in acknowledgement. “Touché, Brother.”
Adam returned his attention to Georgina. He held his hand out. “Mrs. Markham?”
She gave her head a frantic shake. “Adam, we can’t!” she said in a scandalized whisper. “Your brother—”
“Shant say a word,” Tony promised solemnly, crossing an X over his heart.
“See?” Adam murmured.
And, to the s
trings of an imagined orchestra, he began to twirl her about the dance floor. Her feet struggled to adjust to the unfamiliar movement. They’d not engaged in that particular dance since…since his captivity. Except then they’d had just the small four walls of his prison cell. Now they possessed the wide expanse of freedom provided by the long dance floor.
Georgina’s footsteps matched his in a perfect harmony. All the while, her lips moved as she counted a silent one-two-three rhythm. His heart swelled at the endearing gesture.
“What?” she asked. She stumbled a bit.
He caught her to his chest, righting her.
Tony’s laugh echoed off the ballroom windows.
They ignored him.
“You are beautiful, Georgina,” he said. And he meant it. There’d been a time, long, long ago, that he’d thought her plain and dull. How could that have ever been? She was more vibrant than any person he’d ever met—including Grace.“Are you ready for your introduction to Society?”
She snorted. “I think I’d rather face down a pack of hungry wolves.”
He angled her body close to his.
“Not appropriate, big brother. Not appropriate.” Tony guffawed from the sidelines of the dance floor.
Adam ignored him. “I’ll not let anyone hurt you, Georgina. I promise you that.”
She lowered her eyes and it struck him—why should she believe him? All Georgina had ever known was pain. Oddly, the thought did something more than enrage him. It made him want to fill her days with endless joy and wonder. He applied pressure to her waist. “Look at me,” he ordered.
Georgina glanced up.
“You do know that, don’t you? I will not tolerate anyone being cruel to you—”
She made a sound in her throat. “You cannot control the thoughts and actions of other people.” Her eyes fairly bled with hurt.
Her meaning couldn’t be clearer. A shiver wracked his frame. By God, he was free, and Fox and Hunter would forever be relegated to a distant memory. He would not let them dictate his actions for a moment longer.
Adam growled. “Can’t I?” He’d sworn he’d place himself between her and any and every danger. She was his and he’d not let anything happen to her. Not again. Not when she’d suffered so bloody much.
Her full lips tipped up in a sad little smile. “Oh, Adam, you truly believe that, don’t you?”
“With all my heart.” His gaze fell to her plump red lips. An uncomfortable ache settled in his groin as he was seized by a sudden urge to kiss her. He snorted. Sudden urge. It was really rather something of a constant urge.
He glanced over at Tony and found the young blighter eying him with knowing amusement. All his earlier appreciation faded under the weight of wanting him gone.
Georgina stopped counting to say, “Stop glaring at your brother.”
Adam seized the opportunity to gather her closer to him.
“He’s making a nuisance of himself,” he growled. “He—”
“Has been a good brother and loyal friend to me,” she interjected, giving him an admonishing look. “Tony has accepted me when most people will not. Even the staff has not—”
Fury bubbled to the surface. “Have they given you a difficult time?” The mere thought of it made him want to storm through the house and summarily dismiss every blasted one of the servants.
Georgina shook her head a little too hastily. “Only at the onset. They’ve all warmed considerably.”
His wife was a miserable liar. He chose to let the matter rest…for now. He would speak with his staff later. When Georgina was not around. That would mean letting her out of his sight, and he did not intend to do that—especially in light of her upcoming entry into society.
His musings were interrupted by the sudden appearance of his butler. He bore a silver tray with an envelope upon it.
Adam brought them to a slow halt. He released her and sketched a bow.
Georgina fell into a deep curtsy that would have done her dance instructor proud and took a step away from him.
“Can’t you see, Watson, my wife and I were in the midst of a very important dance?” Adam said teasingly.
The butler’s face may as well have been carved in stone. “I…”
Adam made to take Georgina in his arms when a resolute Watson cleared his throat.
Adam frowned. “What is it?” His earlier amusement faded at his servant’s tenacity.
Watson crossed over, coming to a stop in front of Adam and Georgina. “I was told it was of great importance that you receive this note immediately.”
With a growl, Adam snatched the note and started. A very familiar, elegant stroke had marked the thick ivory velum. His heartbeat slowed.
“Adam?” Georgina asked hesitantly.
He picked his head up, a wave of guilt filling him.
His wife studied him. “Is everything all right?”
“Everything’s fine,” he murmured, his mind a million miles from the silent ballroom.
She reached out to him. When she spoke, her words emerged as a halting whisper. “Are you certain? You seem—”
“I said I’m fine,” he snapped, jerking away from her touch.
Georgina flinched as though he’d slapped her. Utter silence followed his outburst.
Tony and Watson stared at him with alternating looks of disappointment and dismay. The scorn in their eyes, coupled with his own clawing guilt, rocked him on his heels.
“Forgive me,” he said hoarsely. “If you’ll excuse me. There is a matter of business I must see to.” He sketched a hasty bow and fled.
When he finally reached the sanctuary that was his office, he slammed the door behind him, his heart racing not from the rapid pace he’d set for himself but from the sealed missive in his hand.
He stood there in silence, his rapid breathing and the snap of the fire the only sounds in the empty office.
Then, unable to resist the overwhelming urge, he tore the envelope open.
Grace’s scent, a blend of fresh-meadow roses and primrose, wafted from the sheets. His eyes slid closed. He would not, if given the chance, go back and wed Grace. Georgina had come to mean too much to him. Still, Grace represented a far simpler time from before, a time he found himself yearning for in the dead of night when the nightmares came. He pulled out the note.
A log tumbled in the fireplace. The pop of the fire’s embers drew him over to the hearth. He stared down into the flames. He should toss the bloody note into the fire and be done with it. There was nothing Grace Blakely, nay Helling, could say that would make her betrayal less painful.
Nor should it matter. He was married to Georgina.
He unfolded the note and read.
Adam, I hope this note finds you well. I wish to congratulate you on your recent nuptials. I must speak with you on a matter of utmost importance.
Ever Yours,
Grace
His lip curled. Apparently, Grace felt no apologies were necessary. Adam held the parchment to the flames.
Leaning his head against the mantle, he watched the fire lick the corners of the note. They curled. Twisted.
Adam gasped and tugged his fingers back, preserving the note. He dropped it to the floor and slammed his booted foot on it, stamping out the fire, then picked it up to study it. He couldn’t destroy the note and he didn’t care to consider why.
Horribly burned and nearly unrecognizable, all that remained of the parchment were Grace’s three meager sentences. Adam sank into the nearest chair, staring blankly down at the note in his hands.
Why should she have contacted him now? What could she possibly have to say to him now that he’d married and finally found happiness?
Adam dropped his head into his hand, crushing the already helplessly ruined note. His mouth all but begged for the stinging bite of a hot whiskey. He fought back the urge like a man battling a dragon.
All Grace’s note represented was trouble.
The last thing he needed in the world was any more bloody
trouble.
~~~~
Georgina stared down at her hands. At her toes. At the marble floor. Anywhere but at Tony’s pitying expression.
“I’m sure it was of great importance,” he murmured.
“Yes, I’m sure it was,” she said, her words halting to her own ears. “He did say as much.”
Tony snorted. “You’re entirely too forgiving. It was unpardonable for him to speak to you the way he did.”
Of course, Tony had no idea that Adam’s tone of annoyance was no different from the way she’d been spoken to the better part of her life. Her father’s callous words and stinging rebuke had ceased to hurt a long, long time ago… Adam’s, however, wielded too much power. The kind that could cripple her with a single unkind utterance.
Georgina managed a weak smile. “Are you trying to create trouble for your brother?”
“Oh, I rather suspect my brother doesn’t need my help getting himself into trouble.” He held his elbow out. “Come along.”
Georgina wrinkled her brow. “I’m not a dog, Tony.”
He laughed, the sound deep and husky. The kind of laugh that was going to do funny things to far too many debutantes’ hearts that Season. “I didn’t snap my fingers or pat my leg, Georgie. Come with me,” he tried again, though there was now a note of seriousness in his usually relaxed demeanor. “You must want something before you’re shoved off into Society.”
This time she did laugh. “First a dog, now a ship?”
Tony waggled his brows, his jolliness returning full-fledged. “I never called you a dog, or for that matter a ship.” He held his elbow out again and waited.
Georgina hesitated before placing her arm in his.
“There’s a girl,” he murmured. “I’m sure Adam will return any moment and,” he lowered his lips to her ear, “be madly jealous to discover you’ve run off with his much handsomer, wittier brother.”
