Dark Deceptions: A Regency and Medieval Collection of Dark Romances(26)

A tall, muscled stranger filled the entryway.

Through swollen eyes, she studied the imposing figure. His had been the face to haunt her dreams since he’d been shot dead in the kitchen. Apparently the sins of her past had come back to greet her.

“Hello, Miss Wilcox,” he murmured. “My name is Nathaniel Archer.”

Georgina fainted.

*

Outside of Bristol

Adam could scarce believe he was free. The wheels of the carriage that brought him to his next destination churned at a fast clip. It was the only sound in the harsh silence of the carriage. Blakely and Stone remained silent for which Adam was eternally gratefully. There was nothing he cared to discuss with them, just then.

When the sun had begun its descent, heralding the end of the day, the coach rocked to a sudden halt.

Stone shoved the door open and leaped down. He reached back and offered a hand to first Blakely, then Adam.

Adam paused. He stared at the lone farmhouse.

“This way,” Stone directed.

They walked the remaining distance to the thatched cottage. Stone knocked once.

A stocky man, several inches shorter than Adam greeted them. He passed a cursory glance over Adam and his upper lip curled back in obvious disdain. “Is this him?”

Stone nodded. “Yes.”

“Lucien Bennett at your service,” he drawled.

With his aloof coolness and nasty condescension, Adam suspected Bennett was at nobody’s service.

“Come in, come in,” he said at last.

They filed inside the farmhouse. Bennett led them through the cozy space too small for a room full of gentlemen of their stature, to what appeared to be a makeshift office. A fire roared from within the hearth. Flickering shadows danced on the walls and played off the worn leather sofa and winged chairs.

Out the corner of his eye, Adam detected a figure stepping forward out of the shadows. His body stiffened as he mentally prepared for an attack.

“Hello, Adam.”

The tension left his body.

“Fitzmorris,” he gasped. His knees grew weak beneath him.

Fitzmorris had been the one to recruit and train Adam for The Brethren all those years ago. A sheen of tears filled the usually unflappable Fitzmorris’s eyes. “We’ve got you back, Adam. It’s going to be all right.”

His friend was wrong. He’d never shake the horror of the past three months.

Fitzmorris took him by the elbow as if he were a small child and guided him over to one of the seats. Adam collapsed into its folds. The springs groaned in protest.

Someone handed him a drink. He downed it in one swallow, not even feeling the burn of the brandy. His glass was immediately refilled. This one he sipped. He savored the tingle in his mouth. The warmth spread down his throat, soothing, calming.

He stared into the dark brew and started. Georgina’s face stared back at him. The tumbler fell to the floor and liquid sloshed onto his boots.

A hand came to rest on his shoulder. Adam cried out. He reached for his captor’s fingers and squeezed.

Fitzmorris’s hiss ricocheted through the barren farmhouse.

Sanity returned.

He released his friend. “I’m sorry,” Adam managed between labored breaths. He raked a hand through his hair.

“Think nothing of it, my boy,” Fitzmorris said in hushed tones.

I’m an animal. A savage beast.

His gaze flitted among the men. Stone looked on pityingly, Fitzmorris with concern. Blakely couldn’t meet his eyes. The unnamed stranger eyed Adam like he was a despicable cur.

Fitzmorris followed Adam’s stare. “Mr. Bennett is ‘The Delegator’.”

“The Delegator”, one of the key figures for The Brethren, served as counsel to the elite organization. Members rarely saw or heard from “The Delegator”.

Bennett cocked his head. “You wonder why I’m here.”

Adam waited.

“You’ve served us well, Markham.” The words rang hollow.

Shame rose in Adam’s throat. In being captured, he’d failed. It didn’t matter that he’d been drugged. It had been his error. He deserved Bennett’s scorn.

“This is as good a time as any to free you from future missions,” Bennett was saying.

Adam gave his head a shake. “What did you say?”

Bennett tugged his gloves free. He beat them against each other, looking bored.

Rage clouded Adam’s vision. He surged to his feet. “This is how I’m to be repaid for my service?” He took a step toward Bennett. “After almost three months of captivity, this is all you have to say?”

Fitzmorris and Blakely caught Adam between them. “Calm down,” Blakely said quietly.

Adam pulled free with a bitter laugh. “I was drugged by a member of the brotherhood and turned over to Fox. You do know that?”

Silence met his question.

He looked at each of them, stunned. “Fitzmorris?”

His friend glanced away.

Adam’s gaze flew to Grace’s father. “Blakely?”

Blakely gave an imperceptible shake of his head.

With a growl, Adam spun away and presented them with his back. They didn’t believe him and he was too bloody exhausted from his efforts to fight them on the truth.

“Markham, I’m being patient with you because of your ordeal, but I expect a certain degree of respect,” Bennett said in clipped tones.