Georgina’s eyes went wide as the dawning horror settled in. “He isn’t a Republican.” Of course, they’d given her a false name to test her loyalty.
How could I have been so naïve?
Jamie confirmed her worst fears. “That’s right.” He chuckled. “Though after the questioning he received, I’d imagine he isn’t too fond of the Crown.”
Georgina closed her eyes.
This is bad. This is very bad, indeed.
She had thought, at worst, mayhap Jamie had learned of her connection with the Duke of Aubrey, but she’d hoped he’d only been speaking on suspicion of guilt. The truth was a deal more troubling—they had trapped her in her duplicity.
“Hmm? Nothing to say?” Like the kitchen cat, his paw was out.
No. There is nothing to say.
He lowered his brow to hers, his breath brushed her nose.
She remained motionless and a pit settled in her stomach.
If he has lascivious intentions, there is no one to prevent Jamie from forcing himself on me. I would be helpless to stop him.
The hot, feral gleam in his eyes indicated that he had followed the exact direction of Georgina’s thoughts. He rubbed his thumb along her lower lip, his gaze dropping to study the plump flesh.
A whore’s mouth, her father used to say. Georgina had never known what her father had meant—until just now.
Jamie lowered his lips, and Georgina cringed, biting the inside of her cheek when suddenly he stopped.
“Do you know I would have given you everything and anything you ever desired, Georgina? Do you know I would have dressed you in the finest silks and satins, adorning you like a queen?” He cupped her jaw with one hand. “You’re no longer a stuttering child, afraid of her shadow.” His words sounded like a lover’s endearment.
Georgina broke contact with his heated gaze, lowering her eyes. “You know those things never mattered to me, Jamie,” she said with a trace of sadness and regret. “I just wanted to live a normal life.”
Please God, spare me his advances.
There was no God. Jamie took her lips in a hard, punishing kiss, his assault, a gross violation. Shivers of revulsion wracked her frame, and she pulled back, trying to dislodge him. Jamie wrapped a hand around her head, anchoring her in place, and Georgina could not fight him.
He wrenched his lips away from hers with enough force that she collapsed against the firm back of the sofa.
“Where is my father?” she asked, wishing for the first time that Father was near. She’d rather deal with his anger than Jamie’s vile touch.
Jamie blinked back the cloud of desire. “Have you missed us?”
“How could I not?” She threw the words mockingly at him. Jamie was more a child to Father than Georgina had ever been—or ever wanted to be. They were both sick and twisted in their machinations. “You’ve always been so very devoted and loving to me.”
“Finally, I hear the truth from your lips.”
Georgina gasped and shoved Jamie backward. Her gaze flew to the door. “Adam!”
He stood there, a towering golden god, more powerful than the avenging archangel Gabriel, a pistol trained on Jamie’s black-blooded heart.
Then Adam’s words registered.
And hope died in her breast.
Georgina clambered to her feet, taking a step toward him. “Adam!”
His gun didn’t waver from the man who’d held him captive, who’d beaten and bloodied him. He moved his gaze from Hunter to his wife, and for one endless moment, swore her eyes radiated love, joy in seeing him, and something odd—relief.
Adam tightened his grip on the pistol to keep from tossing her over his shoulder and storming off like a conquering lord from long ago. The male part of him, blinded by hot jealousy, said be damned with how Georgina felt about Jamie. It mattered not at all when faced with his hungering love for her.
Except Adam had spent the better part of the past month reconciling himself to the truth about his wife’s loyalties. He forced himself to look away from Georgina. No, it was better to look at the snake Hunter who held his wife’s heart.
“We meet again, Hunter,” Adam drawled.
Hunter made a move to open the front of his jacket.
Adam waved his gun. “I don’t think that’s a good idea…but then, perhaps it is. I’d like nothing better than to shoot you through your heart.”
The other man paled. “P-please.” His badly shaking hands fell uselessly to his sides.
Energized by the terror etched on Hunter’s face, Adam lowered the pistol, pointing the barrel at the front flap of Hunter’s breeches. “Do you know, every day you held me captive I would spend my time imagining all the ways I would eventually kill you? Some days I decided I would do it quickly, so I could rid the earth of your evil.” Adam dropped his voice to a near whisper, relishing the way Hunter’s body quaked. “Most days, though, I decided I would take my time and make your death a slow, painful one.”
Like a cornered rat, Hunter’s gaze flitted between Adam’s pistol and the door.
Adam grinned. “Are we expecting company, Hunter? Is it perhaps my dear father-in-law who you expect to step through the doors and rescue you?” His gaze landed on his wife. Her soulful, brown eyes made wide circles in her face and her skin had the same deathly pallor as Hunter’s.
You made me fall in love with you and you broke my heart, Georgina.
His grip tightened on the pistol. He’d not utter those words aloud and give Hunter any bit of victory in these final moments.
Georgina moved toward him, but Hunter captured her wrist, pulling her to his side. “Surely Georgina means enough to you that you’d let me live?” Hunter wheedled.
Georgina made a move to free herself from his grip. “Adam, I love you,” she rasped. “Do not listen to him!” She looked at him with pleading eyes.
God, how he wanted to believe her. Wanted to trust her words.
Then Hunter pulled her sweet buttocks against the vee of his thighs, and leaned down close so his lips fairly brushed her ear. “You would abandon me to save yourself, Georgina?” His voice broke. “After all we’ve shared, you would betray me, too?” He looked at Adam, pain reflected in his eyes. “Do you know Georgina can sing? She has sung to me every day since we met. She has a voice like an angel.”
Adam winced as he remembered waltzing her around his small prison. He’d once thought the very same thing about sweet, harmless Georgina.
Georgina swatted at Hunter’s hand. “You lie,” she cried, her face contorted with rage, quashing all memories of the innocent young maid who’d come to Adam’s rooms and cared for him.
Hunter continued. “She would cook for me. She knew my favorite dish was lamb and every night would—”
Adam held his hand up. He couldn’t take anymore. Not if he were to retain any semblance of his sanity. Georgina’s willingness to transfer her affections from Hunter drove her betrayal home like a nail through his heart.
For the first time in a very long time, Adam didn’t want to kill Hunter. Instead, he felt a remarkable kinship with this man who loved Georgina too. He, like Hunter, knew what it was to love a woman so self-serving she’d say and do anything to achieve her goals…and her father’s goals.
Adam lowered his pistol. “Get out,” he commanded hoarsely.
Hunter’s eyes went wide.
He waved his gun. “Before I change my mind. You two are deserving of the Crown’s punishment, however it will not be at my hands.”
Right or wrong, I love you too much, Georgina, to turn you and your lover over.
He’d sooner wrap the noose about his own neck than watch anyone do that to her, even if that was what his deceitful wife had coming.
Hunter reacted first. He took Georgina by the arm and pulled her toward the doorway, beating a hasty retreat around Adam.
Georgina dug her heels in. She gave her curls a frantic shake. “Adam, y-you—”
He jerked his chin toward the door. “Go!” he bar
ked.
Go! Before I change my mind, kill Hunter, and take you with me.
Hunter leaned down and whispered something close to her ear.
As if she’d stared the mythical Medusa in the eyes, Georgina went motionless. A small, quivering smile turned her lips. “Goodbye,” she said hoarsely then walked out beside Hunter, Adam’s bruised and bloodied heart going right out the door with them.
Chapter 27
Adam stepped out of the warehouse and squinted into the last vestiges of the setting sun. He pulled his watch fob out and consulted the time. Funny, it felt like he’d spent eternity in the bowels of hell, when it had been but a thirty-minute exchange.
He scanned the busy surroundings, searching for his coach. It sat motionless across the street, waiting for him, but Adam turned on his heel and walked away. He needed to walk. With a heavy tread, he made the long trek down the street, his pace slow. He concentrated on placing one foot in front of the other, because if he didn’t, he would go mad at the loss of Georgina.
Adam had thought he’d loved Grace, but that had been nothing compared to this all-consuming fire that licked at him and scorched him from the inside out. His love for Georgina was so great he’d betrayed his country, The Brethren, and his own family. Even knowing she would go off and continue her work against the Crown hadn’t been enough to turn her over to his superiors, because when he imagined a world without her smiling in it, he knew he would go mad.
Mayhap he already had. He paused, glancing back at the empty warehouse. Where would she go? Would she ever think of him? Or had she truly only used him to serve her own purposes? The questions swirled through his brain until it felt like he was running in dizzying circles. A carriage pulled up alongside him, spraying him with bits of gravel and refuse from the street.
The door opened. “Get in.”
Adam stared up at the Duke of Aubrey.
Aubrey glared down at him. “I said, get in.”
Adam’s numbed hurt gave way to fast-growing rage. He welcomed any diversion that would keep him from thinking of Georgina, even if for just a moment.
Aubrey held up a hand, displaying the familiar signet belonging to The Brethren.
Adam climbed into the coach.
Into the very crowded coach. Across from him, Aubrey sat beside Bennett and another man. This one a stranger.
The carriage lurched forward.
Aubrey wasted no time with social niceties. “You may know me as ‘The Sovereign’.”
Adam started. So this was the infamous leader of the organization: the powerful Duke of Aubrey, whose name appeared in scandal sheets linking him with notoriously disreputable widows. It was a stroke of genius. Who would ever suspect that one of the most notable rogues in London served in one of the most exalted positions with the Crown?
“What do you want?” Adam growled. He’d already deduced the reason for Aubrey’s unexpected appearance—“The Sovereign” wanted Fox and Hunter…and Georgina. His superior had surely come for Georgina.
Aubrey drummed his fingertips along the edge of his knee, giving him an air of relaxed calm. The stiff tension in his broad shoulders and the hard set to his square jaw belied the duke’s attempt at feigned nonchalance. “I spoke to Fitzmorris earlier this morn,” Aubrey said. “He claims he requested several audiences. Did you meet with him?”
Adam shook his head. He’d been otherwise engaged uncovering the truth of his wife’s deception.
Aubrey cursed. “Where is she?” he barked.
“I don’t suppose you’re speaking about my mother, the Countess of Whitehaven?” he asked with forced levity.
“Don’t play games,” Bennett snapped. “Where is she?”
Adam bit back a stinging retort. His entire world had been blown to pieces, and why? Because he’d devoted everything he was to The Brethren. They wanted Georgina. Well they were going to have to wait until the good Lord came again, because he wasn’t turning her over. The Duke of Aubrey, Bennett, and the nameless bastard could all go hang.
“Markham?” Aubrey urged.
Adam prayed Georgina had had enough time to make her escape, because The Brethren had discovered her deception.
“You have nothing to fear from Georgina Wilcox. She’s not here. She’s gone,” Adam said woodenly.
Bennett and the stranger exchanged looks, and the first frisson of doubt unfurled in Adam’s gut, along with the awful feeling that he’d committed some irreparable harm.
“What do you mean, gone?” the unfamiliar figure pressed.
“Who are you?” Adam asked the nameless stranger.
The man waved his hand as though to say it didn’t matter who the hell he was. “I said, where is she?”
Adam had exhausted his store of patience for that day. “Go to hell,” he spat.
The man reached across the carriage and gripped him by the lapels of his coat, jerking his frame against the squabs of the coach. He gave him a hard shake. “By Christ, you’ll answer me!”
Aubrey settled a hand on his shoulder but he shrugged it off.
Adam remained stoically silent. He’d not give Georgina over to this ruthless bastard.
He released Adam with a black curse and reached for the handle of the still-moving carriage. Panic made Adam’s heart speed. This stranger was so determined to get his hands upon Georgina he’d risk life and limb by jumping from a moving conveyance.
“She’s not here,” Adam barked, effectively ending the stranger’s intentions of climbing out and hunting Georgina like a cornered beast.
Aubrey spoke. “Where is she?”
Adam met the duke’s icy stare. “I freed her.”
The tension seemed to drain out of the duke’s stiff shoulders.
“Finally something’s gone right,” Bennett mumbled in his gravelly tone. “Where is she then?”
Adam stared back at the expectant expressions of the three men. Why would The Brethren want Georgina freed? Unless to lead them deeper into the web of traitors…
“Markham?” Aubrey prompted.
“She’s with Hunter,” he said, between clenched teeth.
A deathly silence filled the carriage. Only the clip clop of the horses’ hooves split the quiet.
The stranger roared and launched himself across the cramped coach. “By God, I’ll kill you.”
Bennett wrestled him off Adam and shoved him back into his seat.
“Enough!” the duke commanded.
Adam looked through narrowed eyes at his superior. “She is my wife. Surely you cannot think I’d turn her over to you?”
Aubrey ran his fingers through immaculate, black hair. “You didn’t know. I expressly forbade Fitzmorris from meeting with you, but he defied my wishes. But you never met him.”
Adam had already said as much. A loud humming filled his ears as he tried to make logic of the other man’s outrage. “Why did Fitzmorris want to see me?” When the duke remained silent, Adam demanded again. “Why did he want to see me?”
Aubrey looked from Adam to the others. “She didn’t tell him.”
With a growl, the tall stranger swiped a hand over his eyes. “Of course she didn’t tell him.”
“Tell me what?” Adam demanded. When Aubrey remained stoically silent, he directed the question to Bennett. “Tell me what?”
“That she is working for us,” the stranger spat.
The dull humming in his ears grew and he gave his head a shake, to no avail. Nausea roiled in his stomach, bile climbing up his throat. “No.” He’d heard them wrong. Georgina wouldn’t be helping The Brethren. She was a traitor—
“We enlisted her help,” Aubrey finally answered, his tone quiet.
Even if they spoke the truth and Georgina was now in fact helping The Brethren, that hadn’t always been the case. Some of the tautness left his frame. Adam hardened his jaw. “That doesn’t pardon her of the wrongs she’s committed. She has probably only done so to save her own neck.” He’d not be so foolish where Georgina was concerned. Not agai
n.
The stranger spoke. “You are wrong. Miss Wilcox has been helping us for many years now.”
The last shred of Adam’s patience fell away. “Who the hell are you?”
“He’s speaking the truth,” Aubrey said. “For more than four years, Miss Wilcox has aided The Brethren. Her efforts have proven invaluable.”
The growing unease stirred in his gut once again and he tried in vain to tamp it down. He dug his fingers into his temples and gave his head a frantic shake. “Lies.” The denial tore from his throat, hoarse and guttural. “You lie.” They had to be lies, because if they weren’t, that would mean Georgina had been loyal to him and the Crown. That would mean when she’d insisted on her innocence she’d been telling the truth. And that would mean he had turned her over to Hunter’s clutches. His stomach pitched. Oh God, I’m going to be sick. “Back. We have to go back,” he rasped. “I left her with him.”
Aubrey cursed and banged on the roof of the coach, calling out new orders.
Disdain seeped from the stranger’s eyes. “You bloody fool.” Guilt knifed away at Adam’s insides. He pressed the heel of his palms against his eyes and tried to blot out the horror of what he’d done. This was so very different from the betrayal he’d felt when he’d learned of Georgina’s birth. This was a hell of his own making, born of his insecurities and unwillingness to see his wife for the beautiful gift she was. And because of it, he’d placed her life in the hands of that monster.
Aubrey dropped a hand on his shoulder. “We will get her back.”
“And, God willing, she’ll be alive,” the stranger spat.
Adam’s heart shriveled in his chest.
She has to be alive. She has to.
She had to live because he needed to spend the rest of his life atoning for all the ways in which he’d wronged her. Sucking in a ragged breath, he closed his eyes and saw her as he’d left her—pleading with him in words and through the depth of emotion in her eyes to protect her.
And what did I do? He’d walked out on her, abandoning her to the clutches of Hunter and Fox. His mind screeched a protest. Unable to bear the images he’d conjured, he banged his head against the back of the carriage in a slow, punishing rhythm. Fox would not kill her. He couldn’t kill her. What manner of man could? That was, if Georgina was even Fox’s daughter.
My Lady of Deception Page 28
