Dark Deceptions: A Regency and Medieval Collection of Dark Romances(85)

“Mrs. Markham?” Suzanne called from within the bookshop.

Georgina quelled a surge of relief and forced her eyes wide in feigned fear. “It’s my maid!” she gasped, her eyes darting around the aisle.

Jamie stiffened. He seemed to want to say more but must have feared the risk of discovery, for he slipped down the aisle and out of sight.

Georgina sagged against the shelving, pressing a hand against her galloping heart.

“Mrs. Markham?” Suzanne called again.

Georgina detected a thread of panic in the maid’s tone. She tried calling to Suzanne but couldn’t get the words out. Now that Jamie was gone, she was overwhelmed by a maelstrom of relief, fear, and anticipation. Her skin tingled until she wanted to scrape her fingernails along her flesh and drive the frayed nerves from her body.

She knew the moment Suzanne found her. The maid gasped. “We must get you out of here.”

Georgina closed her eyes, not wanting to see the questions in the other woman’s gaze. She must have noted the stark violet marks left on her forearms by Jamie’s fingers. She touched the corner of her bruised lip, wincing. Or mayhap her swollen lips. The memory of Jamie’s kiss entered her mind and a hysterical giggle gurgled deep within her chest. She shivered.

Suzanne whispered something to her, but it was lost to the loud droning in Georgina’s ears.

The maid took her by the arm and steered her out of the shop and to a waiting carriage. The hum of mundane street sounds played out like the errant screech of a violin chord—deafening. Georgina stepped forward.

“Mrs. Markham!” Suzanne cried, pulling her back just as a phaeton came whirring by.

The fog lifted and Georgina crashed to the ground. She landed on the pavement with a pained oomph. The passing horses kicked a spray of dust and dirt into her eyes, momentarily blinding her.

Several gentlemen hurried forward to offer their assistance, but Georgina climbed to her feet before they could reach her. Throwing propriety to the proverbial wind, she raced to the opened carriage door and allowed the tiger to assist her inside. Then, saints be preserved, the door closed, and she found herself alone with Suzanne.

“Are you all right?” Suzanne asked.

Georgina glanced out the window at the passing scenery. “I have a name for you,” she said. “Lord Ackerly.”

She didn’t answer the maid’s question, because Georgina had a sinking feeling she’d never be all right again.

*

For the first time in a fortnight, Adam hadn’t gone out to take dinner at his club or attend some other ton function. Seated behind his desk, he stared down at the note he’d received from his superior. It seemed Fitzmorris needed to meet with him on a matter of some urgency.

At a different point in his life, at a time before Georgina, those words would have galvanized him into motion. Now the whole blasted organization could go hang. Where had they been when he’d been taken captive? With their far-reaching influence, they’d been unable to spring him from Fox and Hunter’s clutches.

The only person he cared to see was his bloody wife.

So, of course, this would be the one night she’d gone out.

He pulled the watch fob from his jacket pocket and, for what was surely the hundredth time that day, consulted the piece. Thirty minutes past six.

Where in hell is she?

Folding up Fitzmorris’s note, he placed it inside the hidden compartment on his desk and rose.

Someone had to know where Georgina had gone.

“Watson!” he bellowed, striding out of the room. “Watson!”

He nearly collided with the old, graying man. “Yes, Mr. Markham?”

“Where in the hell is my wife?”

Watson angled his head as if Adam had just asked him to fetch the king’s crown and not the woman he was married to. A nugget of guilt jabbed at him. His disregard had been abundantly clear, not only to his family and the ton, but his staff as well.

“Watson?” Adam prodded with a trace of annoyance.

“She went out,” the butler blurted.

Adam briefly closed his eyes. “Yes, I had rather guessed that. Where has she gone?”

“A bookshop.”

“A bookshop?” Adam repeated.

Watson nodded. “Yes, a bookshop.”

Well, now that they’d cleared that away… “When did she go to the bookshop?”

The corners of Watson’s mouth tipped down ever so slightly. “I’m not sure sir.”

“You’re not sure?”

Watson nodded. “I wasn’t aware I was to keep track of Mrs. Markham’s whereabouts.”

Adam growled at his butler’s subtle disapproval.

For all anyone knew, his wife may as well have gone out hours ago. An inexplicable fear ate at him. He told himself to take a deep breath. When that made no difference in staving off his dread, he made himself take another. There had to be something more to Georgina’s absence. His heart slowed, panicked hurt blinding him.

Good God, what if she’s left me?

Adam pointed a finger at Watson. “I want my horse readied and the address of the establishment.”

Watson bowed his head. “Very well, sir.” He hurried to do Adam’s bidding.

Not even ten minutes later, Adam stood in the foyer, preparing to head out in pursuit of his wife when Watson opened the door.