Dark Deceptions: A Regency and Medieval Collection of Dark Romances(65)

Georgina Wilcox, born 14 April 1782.

It would appear his wife had had a birthday since they’d married. A pang of regret pulled at him. He should know such a detail about this woman who’d come to mean more to him than himself. Then, why would she mention such a minute detail when there were so many other great secrets between them?

He scrubbed a hand over his face. It all made sense. Adam had ignored so many obvious unexplained details: her cultured tone, the ease with which she’d mastered the lessons by the dancing instructor he’d hired for her.

He tossed the pages aside and reached for his tumbler of brandy.

He’d only seen what he’d wanted. It had been far easier to view Georgina as a courageous woman in need of rescuing, because it had given him strength. He’d felt less alone in his hellish prison.

Adam poured himself a healthy glassful and did what he swore he’d never do again…

He drank.





Chapter 19





A bolt of lightning split the black, late afternoon sky. The resounding boom of thunder rattled the foundations of the townhouse.

“Come away from that window, Mrs. Markham,” her maid, Suzanne, murmured.

“Georgina,” she corrected without missing a beat. An ominous foreboding surrounded her, hinting at doom. “It is a bad omen,” she whispered.

Suzanne made a comforting sound. “Come away from that window, ma’am. This is the night you’ll make your entrance into Society. Surely you must be excited?”

Georgina let the curtain fall back into place. The young maid couldn’t be more wrong.

“I need to prepare your hair, Mrs.…Georgina,” she amended when Georgina glanced back at her.

Panic crashed into her more forcefully than the next boom of thunder to rattle the windowpane. She’d been well-versed in dancing, proper deportment, and all that was expected of a merchant’s daughter. This, her entrance into Society, was something altogether different. Georgina Wilcox did not belong in this world. She was only moving forward with the pretense of belonging because of her husband.

She’d not seen him since they’d made love last evening. When she’d awakened, he’d been gone. He’d not come to breakfast. All day she’d waited for him to make an appearance, but he’d been conspicuously absent. Her pride prevented her from asking one of the servants.

Georgina wet her lips. She needed to see him. She sprinted for the door and yanked it open.

“Mrs. Markham?” Suzanne’s voice echoed around her but Georgina ignored her as she all but flew down the corridor.

She raced down the stairs as if the devil himself were chasing her, her breath came fast and heavy.

A large figure stepped into her path.

Georgina shrieked as she skidded to a halt in front of Watson.

“Mrs. Markham.” He greeted her as if she were casually strolling through the garden and not racing through the house with her curls undone like a woman bound for Bedlam.

She murmured a greeting and stepped around him. This time, she took care to slow her steps, lest she earn any more suspicious looks from the servants. She paused outside her husband’s office and then, before her courage deserted her, pressed the handle.

Georgina peeked inside.

She took a deep breath and entered the quiet room. “Adam?” She closed the door. Silence met her query.

She leaned against the wood panel, a frown playing about her lips.

Silence confirmed her misgivings.

She hated this urgent desire to see him. She’d prided herself on not needing anyone these many years. Only, since she’d met and fallen in love with Adam, she had been forced to confront the truth. She didn’t want to be alone any longer. She wanted to share the burdens of life with someone else. Her own strength had helped her survive and yet, it had not been any kind of warm, companion for her over the years.

Another rumble of thunder sounded. She shivered and wished her husband was near to chase away this black doom that surrounded her.

Ugly suspicion nibbled at her mind. Adam’s aloofness, Jamie’s charges about Grace and Adam resuming their relationship, his mysterious absence on the day she would enter Society. Her gaze alighted on his perfectly neat desk. Not a thing out of place. She glanced over her shoulder toward the door and then back to the mahogany desk at the center of the room.

She wet her lips and walked hesitantly to the desk. “This is wrong,” she muttered to herself. “He’s given you no reason to mistrust him.”

Guilt twisted about her insides. Unlike she who’d betrayed him from their first meeting.

Still…

She tugged open the first draw and sifted through the papers. Business ledgers.

Georgina moved on to the next and rustled through a series of invitations to events. Her guilt doubled. She shook her head. Snooping on her husband…her fingers brushed an oddly coarse sheet. She pulled out the badly burned page. Most of the words had been destroyed. Her heart froze. Stopped beating within her chest. Withered. And died.

Adam, I must speak with you on a matter of utmost importance.

Ever Yours,

Grace

“Can I help you find anything, wife?”

Georgina screeched. The note in her hands danced through the air and fluttered to the floor, the burned note damning.

To her.

To him.