Dark Deceptions: A Regency and Medieval Collection of Dark Romances(56)

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 mantel, 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.