Dark Deceptions: A Regency and Medieval Collection of Dark Romances(20)

He inclined his head. “I’d be glad if you would.”

Georgina set to work bathing the man’s face. Her stomach rolled at the stench of blood.

“Blood bothers you.” It wasn’t a question.

“You are perceptive,” she murmured.

“I’d imagine you see your fair share of it, here.”

She managed a jerky nod. “I do.”

“I’d imagine you must have a very good reason for staying.”

Very perceptive, indeed.

Georgina gently grasped his chin. “Tilt this way a bit,” she murmured.

He complied. “I take that as a yes.”

She dabbed at his lip. He didn’t even flinch. “I didn’t think it was a question.”

“Perceptive girl.”

Apparently, the sentiments were mutual.

“What is your name?” he asked.

“Georgina.”

He bowed his head. “Charles Blakely at your service.”

His refined, regal tones indicated he was a man of importance. Surely, there were powerful people looking for Mr. Blakely? And Adam. Her father played a dangerous game and eventually he would be caught.

You too will be caught, Georgina. They will link you to Father and Jamie and find you guilty.

Georgina sat back and evaluated this new prisoner. He was closer in age to her father, but possessed the vitality of a man much younger. There was an intelligent glimmer in the obsidian depths of his eyes that unnerved her—a look that seemed to delve into her inner thoughts.

Mr. Blakely broke the silence. “I have a daughter. She is about your age. You remind me of her.”

Her heart twisted at the stranger’s admission. Another man. Another family. How many more good people would suffer to serve her father’s twisted agenda?

She managed a forced response. “Do I?”

“Some people have an inherent goodness. A kind heart. I recognize that in you.”

A bitter laugh climbed up her throat. It came out as more of a strangled sob. “Then you are a poor judge of character.” If she were truly good, she would have released Adam months ago and to hell with the consequences.

The man reached for her and even with his bound hand managed to give her forearm a gentle squeeze. “You are here caring for me, aren’t you? I know what it is like to do what you have to in order to survive.”

Georgina fought back tears. “You don’t know anything about me.” Because if he did, he’d not be so magnanimous.

“Trust me, miss. In my life, I’ve had experience with all sorts of characters. You do yourself a disservice. I suspect it’s because your life hasn’t been an easy one.”

His accuracy was too much. Here he was a stranger, whom she’d only just met, and he could so accurately gauge her life experience. She wanted to be free of her father. She’d had enough.

Georgina reached into the front of her apron and pulled out a knife.

The stranger stiffened. His reaction was much like Adam’s and the two other nameless men before him. They were always waiting for the final deathblow.

“Forgive me,” she whispered.

He flinched.

She slashed his shirt open then reached for a cloth inside the bowl of water. Georgina rang it out and pressed the cool water against his flesh.

He hissed and she glanced up at him. She’d borne the sting of the lash. Knew the searing agony of water as it seeped into the shredded flesh. “I am so sorry. I know they must hurt.”

Blakely remained silent while she cleaned his wounds. Next, she applied the balm.

He sighed in response. “That is heaven.”

“If this is heaven, I don’t want to see hell.” She dropped her cloth onto the tray.

“Miss Wilcox,” Mr. Stone’s voice thundered from above stairs.

She bit her lip, ignoring him. “Here.” She loosened the length of the captive’s constraints enough that he could reach the bread she placed on his lap. “Just a moment,” she called over her shoulder at the still-closed door. Georgina reached for the glass of warm lemon water and held it up to his lips. “Drink,” she said softly.

When he’d drained the glass dry, she picked up the empty tray and carried it over to the door.

“Can you help free me?”

Georgina swallowed hard. It was time to shove aside the selfish fear and cowardice that had driven her. “I will. I promise.”

And Adam. She needed to free these men…somehow.

“I must go,” she murmured.

She needed to see Adam.

Mr. Blakely nodded. His gaze seared her back as she climbed the stairs to confront Mr. Stone.

She nearly ran into him.

She would have tumbled down the stairs if Mr. Stone hadn’t reached out and grabbed her, pulling her to safety.

She didn’t want to be beholden to this man or anyone. “Thank you,” she bit out.

He smiled but didn’t relinquish her. “You sound like you’d rather have fallen down the stairs then talk to me.”

Georgina looked pointedly at his hand. “I think perhaps I might prefer that than speaking with you.” She arched a single brow. “You called me, Mr. Stone.”

“I’m here at ‘The Sovereign’s’ request. I’ve come to help. We must be quick if we are to get Mr. Markham and Mr. Blakely out of here.”