Dark Deceptions: A Regency and Medieval Collection of Dark Romances(70)

Said like that, in his very earl-like tone, Adam had little choice but to follow along, leaving his mother and Tony alone with the vicious viper he’d married.

The two brothers wound their way through the throng of guests, Adam taking pains to ignore the greetings and well-wishes directed his way, responding with a glare for anyone without the sense to leave him alone.

Adam reached for a flute of champagne, but Nick plucked it from his fingers swifter than a pickpocket from the Seven Dials. “I think you’ve had enough,” he said between clenched teeth, taking a refined sip of the bubbling brew.

Adam’s throat went dry and need gripped him. “Give me the bloody glass.”

Nick finished the contents of the crystal flute in one long swallow. A servant materialized as if out of thin air, and Nick placed the empty glass on the tray and waved the young man away.

His brother said nothing for a long while. When he did, his words were so faint they barely reached Adam’s ears. “I don’t care if you have suddenly realized your foolish error in wedding Miss Wilcox. It is something that cannot be undone. So put a smile on your bloody face, conduct yourself in a respectable manner, and get back to her side.”

Without waiting for a response, Nick turned on his heel and disappeared through the crowded ballroom.

Adam stared after him. He would rejoin his wife. But first…

He reached for a glass of champagne.

First, he’d have another drink.

*

Once upon a time, she’d had grand dreams of her entrance into Bristol’s society of merchants. She would be courted by handsome, witty, kind, young gentlemen. They would shower her with flowers and write odes to her otherwise non-existent beauty.

Those dreams had died a swift death when she’d made her debut.

Remarkably, her introduction into London Society would appear to be an even greater disaster. Adam was soused. He was slurring horrible, hurtful things for the ears of any and all who happened to be near and—she glanced around—in this crush, everyone was near.

Then, of course, there were the sneers dripping with noble condescension from the ladies. Georgina couldn’t decide which was worse—the ladies’ haughty stares or their husbands ogling her embarrassingly plump bosom. She tamped down the urge to fold her arms and shield herself.

Thankfully, Tony had not left her side. Even the Countess of Whitehaven remained staunchly at her elbow.

Georgina would never be able to repay them. She bit the inside of her cheek. Repay them? When her identity was revealed and she was landed in Newgate, all she would bring to these lovely people was greater shame and heartache.

“How about a dance?” Tony asked, not for the first time.

Georgina shook her head. “N-no. Thank you. I…” Her words trailed off as an exceedingly handsome couple appeared on the stairway. They possessed the utter perfection that artists would salivate to replicate on canvas. The tall, muscular gentleman attired all in black had drawn the notice of every single lady in the ballroom.

Not Georgina. Her eyes were fixed on the golden Athena at the dark stranger’s elbow. Tall, lithe, and impossibly elegant, she was everything Georgina was not.

Georgina had committed that face to memory many months ago.

Grace Blakely.

In this sea of strangers, Grace appeared to be scouring the room, searching, searching, before her eyes alighted on a single person. Georgina told herself not to look, but she could no sooner stop her heart from beating than resist the pull. She followed Grace’s violet gaze right to Adam.

He had the look of a man who’d been cleaved in two by a mighty sword.

The pain of their reunion sucked the air from Georgina’s lungs. She swayed on her feet.

The countess gasped, reaching out just as Tony did to keep her standing.

“Are you all right?” Tony asked, his voice coming as if down a long hall.

She stared blankly through the crowd at Adam, punishing herself with the emotion in his expressive eyes laid bare for all to see. Regret. Pain. Loss. Anger. He read like a book, and she wanted to rip out the bloody pages and grind them beneath her heel.

“Are you all right, my dear?” This time it was Adam’s mother.

Georgina shook her head. “I-I…” She needed to get away from this. From all of this. If she continued to stand there, she would collapse amongst a crowd that would like nothing better than to shred her to pieces. She did what she’d longed to do since their arrival. She walked away. Moving through the crowd. Disregarding the stares. Ignoring Tony calling after her.

There had to be somewhere she could go for some privacy. She darted between perfect strangers and passed down long corridors.

When the din of the crowded ballroom was no more than a distant hum, she glanced over her shoulder, feeling blessedly free. Georgina continued on to the nearest room and shoved the door open.

She shut it behind her. Leaning against the protective barrier, she closed her eyes and sighed.

“Well, well, Mrs. Markham. It would appear we meet again,” a cultured voice drawled.

Her eyes popped open. A scream climbed up her throat but went nowhere. She pressed her hand to her pounding heart and stared back at the Duke of Aubrey.

He sat on their host’s sofa, drinking the man’s brandy, looking for all the world as though it were his own palace. The duke held his glass up in mock salute but made no move to rise.