Dark Deceptions: A Regency and Medieval Collection of Dark Romances(86)



Georgina swept through, her maid in tow.

She jerked to a stop at the sight of him. Her cloak was drawn tight about her, the billowing hood concealing her face.

His knees all but knocked together in relief. “Where did you go?” The harsh demand conveyed none of that to his wife, however.

Her body went rigid. “I went to a bookshop.” Her words were nearly lost in the muslin fabric of her cloak.

Watson made a move to retrieve it, but she waved him off and proceeded up the stairs.

Adam’s mouth fell open. Now that Georgina had returned, all his fears had abated, and he was left feeling more than a little foolish.

“Are you dismissing me?” he barked, taking the steps two at a time to keep up with her swift pace. He didn’t like his sweet wife discharging him as if he were nothing more than a wayward servant.

Georgina didn’t pause in her long, slow climb. “Please, Adam. You mustn’t pretend there is anything we have to talk about.”

Her words brought him up short and, by the time he’d collected his confounded emotions, Georgina had gone. The tall maid he’d employed for Georgina paused to shoot him a long, black look before hurrying after her mistress.

It was only as he stared bemusedly after them that he realized—Georgina hadn’t returned from her shopping with any purchases.

Doubts ran rampant.

Something was decidedly suspicious about his wife’s behavior, but Adam was too bloody confused too examine the reason for his apprehension. He couldn’t, however, turn a blind eye to her activities.

If she were betraying him again, God help her, because there would be no mercy on his part.





Chapter 25





Seated behind his desk, Adam stared down at the second letter Fitzmorris had sent round. There was a greater note of urgency in this missive. The other man requested an audience on the morrow. Adam sighed, tossing the sheet onto his desktop. He’d pay Fitzmorris a bloody visit and be done with him.

The day Adam had been dismissed from The Brethren, his role within the organization had been amputated. Like a petulant child, he delighted in ignoring their bloody summons. Except now, he needed the diversion, something to keep his mind from the state of bloody confusion Georgina had plunged him into.

Fighting the urge to bury his head in his hands, Adam gripped the side of his desk. He and Georgina had managed to co-exist in a relatively peaceful existence, which was a tremendous feat considering he’d wanted her thrown into Newgate not too long ago.

Now he didn’t know what he wanted for her.

Or them.

If Georgina had pleaded with him, professed her innocence, he suspected it would have fueled his hatred. She did none of those things. Rather, she moved through their household like a ghost. Her head lowered in an abject misery no one could possibly feign. It made him feel bloody guilty. He told himself he had nothing to feel guilty over—it was Georgina who had deceived him—but it made no difference. His stomach roiled with agony until he wanted to reach for her, beg her forgiveness. Until he had to shake his head and think on the ludicrousness of such flawed thinking.

It is Georgina who should be pleading on her lovely knees for absolution.

He told himself that but, since he was being honest with himself, he could acknowledge that he didn’t wholly believe it.

The day she’d returned from the bookshop, her arms empty of purchases, warning bells had sounded in Adam’s ears. All signs had pointed to Georgina being involved in some clandestine act. He’d watched her quite closely over the next week, only to find that she didn’t go anywhere or interact with anyone. It only attuned Adam to the fact that her existence was a lonely one…and his guilt swelled.

Adam sighed. He would get nothing accomplished this day.

He needed to see her. Adam made his way upstairs and nearly collided with her maid.

The tall woman’s cheeks were heightened with a splash of red. Her chest heaved as if she’d been running through the house and, when she spoke, her gasping words echoed his thought. “Have you seen Mrs. Markham?”

The warning bells blared louder. He shoved down the concern radiating from a point deep inside him. “I’m sorry?”

The maid frowned. “As you should be,” she muttered.

Adam blinked. Surely, he’d imagined the affront. “I beg your pardon? What’s your name?”

She tossed her chin back in a show of defiance. “Suzanne. If you’ll excuse me, sir. I have to find Mrs. Markham.”

Had he just been dismissed by a servant? He shook his head. The world was going all topsy-turvy on him. “Just a moment,” he commanded in the tone that had frozen traitors in their tracks.

Suzanne spun around, planting her hands upon her hips. Fire danced in her eyes. “Yes, sir?”

Adam’s thoughts spun.

Am I really going to address her impudence? Christ, I’ve gone stodgy.

“Where the hell is my wife?” he barked.

She gave her head a toss. “If I knew that, sir, would I be asking you?”

He strode down the hall toward Georgina’s rooms, asking over his shoulder, “Have you searched her chambers?”

The maid pressed her lips into a firm line. “Yes, sir,” she said, but not before Adam saw the way she pointed her eyes to the ceiling.

Adam paused outside Georgina’s chambers and threw the door open.

Kathryn Le Veque, Ch's Books