My Lady of Deception

by Christi Caldwell

  “Oh, fifteen minutes.”

  Fifteen minutes? It felt like she’d been sleeping the whole winter season.

  A knock sounded on the carriage door. She let out a gasp and tugged the fabric of her gown back into place.

  Adam watched on in amusement before taking pity. With quick movements, he had her skirts down around her legs, her cloak properly latched, and her hair…well, he did the best he could with the helpless mane of curls. She colored furiously at the thought of what his staff would think of their scandalous new mistress.

  Another knock.

  Adam didn’t give her an opportunity to protest. He allowed the tiger to open the door. Without waiting for the steps to be put into place, Adam leaped down and held his arms up for Georgina.

  He lifted her effortlessly from the carriage and cradled her close as though she were more valuable than the Queen’s crown. Adam managed to do something no other person had ever done before—he made her feel cherished. It was quite the heady sensation.

  Adam leaned down until his lips nearly brushed her cheek. “Come along, love.” The warmth of his breath dissolved into a puff of air in the cool winter air.

  Georgina allowed him to lead her up the stairs of his townhouse.

  All her hopes for a quiet, unobtrusive entrance were spoiled by a long row of servants lining the marble foyer. A man attired all in black rushed forward, an older graying woman at his side.

  This had to be Adam’s butler.

  Adam took her hand, giving it a small squeeze as if attempting to pump support from his veins to hers. “May I introduce you to your staff? This is your butler, Watson, and your housekeeper, Miss Gayle.” He turned to the staff. “May I introduce you all to your new lady of the house, Mrs. Markham?”

  Silence met his pronouncement.

  Watson hesitated a fraction of a moment and then grinned. “Mr. Markham, on behalf of the entire staff, it is my pleasure to wish you congratulations on your nuptials!”

  Adam inclined his head and, either unaware or uncaring of the gaping stares being shot their way from the row of servants, proceeded to speak to Watson.

  The plump housekeeper at his side looked at Georgina with suspicion in her narrow-eyed stare.

  Georgina’s gut clenched. The staff here was really no different than any other person she’d known in her life—cool, unfeeling, judgmental.

  Still on this, Georgina’s wedding day, she’d longed to revel in the joy of her and Adam’s union. Instead, she’d encountered everything from hostility to unspoken disapproval.

  She had to dig her feet into the soles of her slipper to keep from turning on her heel and fleeing out the front door.

  “Miss Gayle, would you please show Mrs. Markham to her chambers?”

  Georgina jumped when Adam’s words registered, and a wave of heat climbed up her neckline. His staff surely knew just why she was being shown to her chambers. She suspected she should’ve felt more embarrassment and not felt this breathless sense of anticipation.

  Miss Gayle’s lips turned down at the corners. She clapped her hands once and the servants all dispersed like caged birds set free. With a curt nod, she spoke to Georgina. “If you would follow me, Mrs. Markham.”

  Without waiting to see if Georgina did as bid, she turned on her heel and started up the winding staircase.

  Adam leaned down and grazed her cheek with his lips. Georgina’s heart tripped at the tiny, telltale gesture of support, and suddenly Miss Gayle’s disapproval mattered naught.

  “I’ll be up shortly.” His husky whisper bespoke wickedness and desire.

  Georgina felt her womb stir with anticipation. Adam had to nudge her toward Miss Gayle, who’d frozen on the stairwell. She matched the taller woman’s stride up the remaining stairs and down a long hall. The housekeeper stopped beside the last door on that floor.

  She opened it and motioned for Georgina to enter. “Mrs. Markham,” she murmured, her voice devoid of emotion.

  Georgina hesitated but then decided she preferred the idea of being in her new chambers to standing in the hall with this foul creature.

  She took a step inside and froze. Her mouth fell agape and she had to remind herself to close it.

  “It is rather impressive, isn’t it?” Miss Gayle said. Georgina thought she detected a trace of condescension in the older woman’s words.

  Real or imagined, it infused her spine with strength. Georgina turned to the woman with a small frown. “Miss Gayle, have I done something to offend you?”

  The housekeeper’s eyes went wide for a moment. She shook her head. “Forgive me. I do not know what you are speaking of.”

  Georgina gritted her teeth. She’d had enough of stern disapproval. The nurses at Middlesex Hospital. The Earl of Whitehaven. The Countess of Whitehaven. She’d not tolerate any more…particularly from a stranger who knew her not at all. “I should hope a woman of your courage and conviction could at least be forthright with me, Miss Gayle.”

  Miss Gayle blinked back at her in what Georgina thought was surprise. “May I speak frankly?”

  Georgina inclined her head. “I wish that you would.” She preferred honesty to the false veneer of aloof politeness worn by Adam’s mother and older brother.

  “The staff is concerned,” Miss Gayle finally said.

  Well, that makes all of us then.

  Georgina waited for the woman to continue.

  “There have been…” The maid fell silent.

  “There have been…?” Georgina prodded gently.

  “Rumors circulating quite freely. One of the maids has a cousin who is employed by the Earl of Whitehaven who mentioned that Mr. Markham had been forced to marry you.”

  Georgina’s heart tightened. She clenched her fingers so tightly it would surely leave marks in the flesh of her palms. Adam’s staff was good and loyal. They cared for him and worried that she was an interloper who’d forced his hand.

  She glanced away, her gaze colliding with the tall windows at the opposite end of the room. Hadn’t she though? Had Adam married her because he truly wanted to? Or had he been driven by a sense of obligation after she’d been relieved of her responsibilities at Middlesex?

  The housekeeper continued, twisting the knife of guilt deeper. “It is also being said that you are the source of much contention between Mr. Markham and his family. Every member of the staff knows just how close he is with the countess and his brothers, and it is—”

  “That will be all, Miss Gayle,” Adam said in frigid tones.

  The housekeeper paled.

  Georgina’s gaze swiveled to the front of the room. Adam stood framed in the doorway, the muscles in his arms tensed, the fabric of his jacket stretched tight over his skin.

  “I—”

  “That will be all,” he said.

  Unrepentant Miss Gayle’s glared and, with an insolent curtsy, hurried from the room.

  Georgina toyed with the fabric of her skirts, looking everywhere and anywhere but at him as he strode across the room toward her.

  He rested his hands on her shoulders. “Look at me,” he said, his words a husky murmur.

  She glanced up.

  “I will never allow anyone to speak to you like that. Do you understand? You are my wife and deserving of respect. I will give Miss Gayle her references and send her—”

  Georgina gasped. “No!” She couldn’t be responsible for another woman losing her work. Not when she still battled the horrors of being alone with nothing more than false references to her name. She’d wish that on no other woman. She tried again. “Please do not dismiss her. She cares for you.”

  Adam raised her right hand to his mouth. He brushed his lips across her knuckles. A shiver of awareness coursed through her body.

  “You are a good woman,” he said solemnly.

  Her mind screeched a silent protest at his familiar words. How many times would he hurl that mocking statement at her? It only served as a reminder of her deceit.

  She swirled away from him,
ripping her hands free. Not for the first time that day, the urge to flee surged like a wave amidst a storm. Adam stood between her and the doorway, and he was looking at her with such gentle concern she wanted to cry and she hated that she wanted to cry because tears were a sign of weakness and…She needed to put some distance between them. Hurrying over to the long window, she pulled back the curtain and peered down into the bustling street below.

  Georgina had traveled down a path that could not be undone, and because of it, he would be forever trapped in a marriage that, for him, was nothing more than an obligation. Her throat seized up.

  “You should not have married me,” she whispered, laying her forehead against the pane.

  “I married you because I wanted to, Georgina. I don’t give a damn about anyone’s opinions or expectations and neither should you.” A trace of annoyance underlined his words.

  She laughed, shaking her head. “Oh, Adam, you belong to a different world than I do.” She glanced over her shoulder at him. “I have to care about others opinions and expectations. You do not. You—”

  “Georgina, we now belong to the same world.” His jaw flexed as if he were trying to remain in control of his temper.

  Oddly, she was not afraid. Adam would not hurt her.

  Georgina, however, could hurt him a great deal. All it would take was a whisper of the truth about her lies and he’d toss her into the street. A spasm wracked her body. She had to hug herself to try in vain to stifle the growing shiver. She pictured herself alone in a cold Newgate cell while the guards violated her, while the rats gnawed at her. Bile climbed up her throat.

  “Georgina?”

  Adam’s voice came as if down a long, long hall—distant and faint in her ears.

  He pressed his lips to the nape of her neck and the horror receded. She sucked in a deep breath.

  Adam pulled her back against his chest and rocked her in a gentle rhythm. “Do you have nightmares?”

  She nodded. All the time.

  “They haunt me as well. I don’t think a night has passed that Fox and Hunter don’t pay a visit to my dreams.”

  Oh God. Agony struck her heart like a thousand knives. She knew nightmares. Had lived with them her entire life. And because of her horrible, vile father, Adam’s life would never be the same.

  Tears blurred her vision. She had to tell him. Now, before they consummated their union and Adam was forever bound to her, a woman he would soon loathe and revile.

  She turned in his arms and raised her tear-filled gaze to his. “Adam, I-I n-need…” She took a deep breath and tried again. “I need to tell you about Fox.”

  Adam pressed a finger to her lips. “Not now. Not on this day. They took so much from both of us. I’ll not allow them to ruin this day, too.”

  Georgina took a step away from him. She threw her palms up. “No! I have to say this.”

  Adam closed the distance between them. He framed her face between his hands—hands which had caressed and soothed her. “It doesn’t matter.”

  “It does!” she cried. She needed him to listen. Needed him to know every last ugly truth. She should have told him. Long before now, before she’d trapped him into a marriage with his captor’s daughter.

  He kissed her, effectively silencing her next words. He pulled back, dropping a final kiss on her brow. “It doesn’t matter. Not now. Not ever.”

  Not ever.

  Her heart stirred with hope. She was ready to move forward. With Adam as her husband. She’d never meant anything to her father; the day he’d left her alone would forever mark the moment she’d been born again.

  Take what Adam offers. Leap on the wings of new beginnings, Georgina. Soar.

  Georgina turned around, presenting him with her back. She spoke on a breathless whisper, “Will you undo my buttons?”

  Adam sucked in a breath but, with a jerky nod, began to work freeing the long row of buttons. In moments, cool air kissed her exposed back, the modest chemise little barrier to the chill.

  Georgina wiggled the fabric past her hips where it pooled in a silken heap, twining about her and Adam’s feet. In spite of her undergarments, she felt remarkably bare. How odd, to have been so intimate with him before and yet to feel this modesty now. She made to cross her arms over her breasts, but Adam stayed her with his hand.

  “Don’t,” he begged hoarsely. “I want to see all of you.” The rapid rise and fall of his chest indicated that he was as aroused as she was. Georgina shrugged off her chemise and stood before him, shivering with alternating waves of modesty and desire.

  A hiss slipped between his clenched teeth. “You are so beautiful.”

  Really she wasn’t. With her large breasts, rounded hips and buttocks, she was really just plump. But when he said it that way, like a starving man offered one final feast, she almost believed it.

  Wordlessly, he swept her into his arms and carried her across the room, the tread of his feet quiet on the plush carpet. Then he lowered her to the bed, letting her body slide down his until he had her on her back, open for his mastery. His hard shaft prodded the soft fabric at the center of her thighs.

  With a guttural growl, he removed her undergarments, and Georgina was fully naked before him.

  A puddle of heat settled between her legs. Georgina bit her lip hard. She wanted him with a wanton longing that frightened her. Yearned to shove him down and press his head between her legs, feel his wicked tongue swirl around her womanhood.

  “What are you thinking, Georgina?” he asked, his voice a husky whisper.

  Her cheeks flooded with color. Thoughts no good, young lady should have.

  “Do you want to feel my mouth here?” His tongue circled the peak of her breast.

  She cried out.

  “Or here?” He nipped at her neck. She whimpered when he pulled away. He continued to trail feathery kisses along her flesh, until he paused at the threshold of her womanhood. “Or…here?” His breath tickled the curls that concealed the dripping wet desire.

  He wedged a knee between her legs, parting her gently. She waited, afraid that any movement on her part would mean an immediate cessation in his loving.

  And he did. He looked up at her, a roguish grin on his lips. “Is this what you want, Georgina? Do you want me to kiss you here?” He slipped his tongue between the folds of her womanhood, the caress so faint, so delicate, she feared she’d imagined it. But the puddle grew, and she knew his taunting touch had been real. Her thighs fell open wide, quivering. Aching.

  He buried his face between her thighs and plunged his tongue inside. Her hips bucked, and a strangled cry escaped her.

  She twisted her fingers in his silken, blond strands, anchoring him to her.

  Adam moved his tongue in and out then flicked it over the trembling bud of desire. He claimed it between his lips and sucked hard. She thrashed her head back and forth atop the pillow, incapable of words.

  Fortunately, Adam knew exactly what her body craved. He pulled away. The whimpering protest faded on a moan as he shucked off his shirt. The broad, muscled wall of his chest, with the faintest sprinkling of golden curls, was even more impressive than the times she’d seen it during his captivity. His skin now had a healthy olive cast, as if he’d been painted by the sun.

  Then he moved on to his breeches. Her mouth went dry. She supposed she should feel a maidenly sense of modesty but hungered for a glimpse of him like a hedonistic wanton. The breeches joined his shirt on the floor.

  Georgina couldn’t move. The full, swollen length of him was more magnificent than any piece of art. A drip of moisture beaded at the plumed, purplish-blue head. She reached out and caught the bead. She raised her finger to her lips and sucked down the taste of him. It was salty and tasted of raw, masculine vitality.

  Adam groaned—the low feral moan of a man ready to possess his mate. He moved over her and settled himself between her legs. “This will hurt for a moment, love,” he whispered.

  But he closed his lips over the engorged tip of her
breast and she forgot anything but the press of his skin against hers. She wanted him. Wanted all of him.

  His tip nudged at her threshold. He slipped inside her. Inch by agonizing inch, stretching her womanhood. Georgina circled her legs around his hips, urging him on.

  His rock-hard shaft reached the thin barrier. He groaned. “Forgive me.” With a guttural moan, he flexed his hips and plunged past that wall.

  Georgina’s cry blended with his roar of approval.

  Perspiration dotted her brow. With his shaft buried deep inside her, she felt like she was soaring through the sun-lit sky.

  He cupped her breast and raised the mound to his mouth, worshiping her with his tongue. Georgina gasped, the earlier twinge of discomfort forgotten under his skilled ministrations. She peered at him through heavy lids, watching as he laved first one swollen nipple then the next. There was something heady in watching as he pleasured her.

  She raised her hips, and now it was Adam who hissed as if in pain. Then he rocked his hips. Slowly at first then with increasing speed.

  Adam flexed his shaft and then thrust in and out of her wet center until anything and everything fell away except her need for release.

  Georgina matched his rhythm.

  Adam moaned. “That’s it, love. Show me how much you want this.” The demand was hoarse with desire, and it only made the ache in her center grow and grow until she thought she’d go mad from the wanting.

  The movement of his hips took on an almost savage intensity but Georgina moved with him in perfect harmony.

  She exploded in a vibrant burst of color. She cried out over and over, her cries melding with Adam’s as he stiffened above her, and his shaft throbbed deep within her, emptying the seed of life into her womb.

  He collapsed atop her, his chest heaving as if he struggled to catch his breath.

  Or mayhap that is me, she wondered with a sated smile.

  It was near impossible to tell where she ended and he began.

  Her eyes grew heavy, but she fought back the exhaustion descending over her. She didn’t want to miss one moment of the rest of her life.

  “I love you,” she whispered against his chest.

  At last, sleep won out. She closed her eyes and let it carry her away.