Dark Deceptions: A Regency and Medieval Collection of Dark Romances(99)

Adam’s face contorted. “I don’t care about that. I told you the day…” He faltered. “The day you were shot I would wed you again.”

She looked away as an internal battle waged inside her. The foolish part of her wanted to accept that which he offered and go on pretending she was the cherished wife of a man who’d nearly been killed by her father. Except…

She’d been foolish for too long. She would not allow him to wed her out of a misbegotten sense of guilt. “No.” Her one word response blared in the silence of the room. Nor could she wed a man who’d believed so ill of her. Even if she had given him earlier grounds to do so. There was too much they could not recover from.

A pained sound rumbled from Adam’s chest. “You don’t…” He seemed to be searching for words. “No,” he repeated back. “You said no,” he said more to himself. Adam sucked in an audible breath. “For days I considered what I might say to you. I would tell you how unworthy I am of you and your love.” He raked a hand through his hair. “I would beg your forgiveness. There is nothing to say. Nothing but, please forgive me.”

Adam would do anything for her—but out of guilt. He wore it etched in the tired lines of his rugged cheekbones and the sad twist of his lips.

She could not trap him—not when fate had freed him. Not when fate had freed them both.

No. There were only three words that he could give her. Three words Adam would never utter. Not to her. Not when there was beautiful Grace, who had the added advantage of not being the daughter of a traitor.

So she said nothing but, “I need to rest, Adam.”

Adam cleared his throat and stood. “Of course, of course.” He reached a hand to her and she turned on her side. “We will talk later,” he pledged quietly.

There was nothing left to say.

*

One week later, Georgina requested a meeting with the Duke of Aubrey.

She stared across the wide surface of the immaculate, mahogany desk at the powerful nobleman who’d controlled her fate these many years now. He sat, his gaze trained on a sheet in front of him as though either uncaring or disinterested in her presence. She gritted her teeth, tired of commanding gentleman.

Georgina cleared her throat.

The duke picked his head up. He stood and studied her from hooded lashes. “You should still be resting,” he chided.

Georgina gave him a tight smile. “I never took you for a nursemaid, Your Grace.”

He inclined his head. “Or a spy.”

She remembered the carriage ride the evening she’d fled Lord and Lady Ashton’s. Her smile dipped. “Or a spy.” Yes, gentlemen did not become spies. It was seedy and dark and not the endeavors pursued by powerful noblemen.

“Please sit.” He motioned to the smooth, brown leather sofa by the hearth.

Georgina slid into a seat. She set down a sealed note she’d carried here. “Thank you for the clothing and for allowing me to convalesce here.”

He claimed the chair opposite her. He waved off her thanks. “Mrs. Markham, as you know, I’m indebted to you far beyond several gowns and shelter.”

Which brought Georgina to the reason for her visit. “I cannot stay here any longer.”

“I assure you my staff is the soul of discretion. Your presence here has gone, and will remain, undetected if that is your—”

Georgina shook her head. “No. It is more than my reputation. I…”

Am tired of living a lie. Her entire life had been a lie. The truth of her parentage, her role in helping The Brethren, her marriage to Adam. All of it. She was tired of the mistruths and deception. She wanted to start anew. Nay, she needed to begin anew. And it had to begin by freeing Adam. Her heart seized.

The duke spoke. “I gather you want to return to your husband.”

She laughed. The sound bitter and empty. Her husband. Dear, loyal Adam, who continued to pay her visits, sketching at her bedside, bringing flowers. She cleared her throat. “No.”

The duke blinked. “No?”

She smoothed her palms over her skirts. “You know he is not my husband.”

The duke sighed and settled his long, muscled arm on the back of his seat. He tapped his fingers along the top of the chair. “I can see that your marriage is made legal.”

Her lips twisted wryly. Of course he could. A smidgeon shy of royalty, with a large dose of power at the Home Office, the duke could accomplish nearly everything. Seeing to the legality of her sham marriage should prove little obstacle.

“I don’t want to remain married to Adam,” she said bluntly.

The duke’s fingers stilled.

Even if Adam somehow desired a true marriage with her, how could she marry the man who’d left her so callously, believing the lies of another? Because you were never truthful with him, a voice taunted. Yes, she hadn’t been entirely honest, or at all honest with him, but after the hell she’d endured at her father and Jamie’s hands, she deserved more than an empty marriage with a man who thought so ill of her.

Georgina continued. “I only ask you help me leave. Beyond that, I will never ask anything else of you, Your Grace.” She reached for the note at her side and handed it to him. “Could you give this to my h…to Adam.” He wasn’t her husband. Only in her heart would he remain that way.