“I know,” she snapped. Her voice rang in the silence, eaten by the darkness.
In the privacy of her own head, she followed it with, And so are you.
“I’ll give you another week, but no more. If you can’t do this for me, I’ll have to look for another way to dispose of your debt.”
With those as parting words, he turned and stormed down the street, leaving Lily trembling.
A moment later, Adam rested his hands lightly on her shoulders. Tears tracked down her face. She refused to turn and show them to him. “You heard?”
“Every word. I won’t let him hurt your family.”
The quiet vehemence in his voice made her head spin. Did she believe him, the scoundrel who had stolen from her? Or her former laughing, bookish friend, who now threatened to destroy her family? Nothing was as it seemed.
And she didn’t know what do.
…
Adam could not leave Lily exposed to Chatterley’s treachery any longer. His time to research had grown thin. He had to act.
Unfortunately, his meticulous inquiries into Chatterley hadn’t yielded the skeletons Adam had hoped to use as leverage. Chatterley was a respectable, well-liked scholar, if reduced in circumstances. No one had an ill word to say about the snake who hid behind his smile. The cretin, it appeared, did not use strangers the way he did his closest friends. If Adam wished to discover something, he would have to put in the time and effort to finding it with his own senses.
He had to follow Chatterley.
An odious task, given that it turned Adam’s stomach to look at the man for too long. He didn’t relish leaving Lily alone to fret herself into illness. Though it was perhaps best he kept his distance, given the sort of comfort he ached to give her. Better he focus on her future—their future. Lily was even more resilient and driven than she’d been when he’d married her, but she couldn’t defeat Chatterley alone.
When Chatterley stepped off the street into a gaming hell, Adam cursed beneath his breath. Was that gutless swine gambling away the funds he’d received from blackmailing Adam? For all that Adam often lived dangerously, he never gambled. He relied on his skill, not on blind chance— Blind chance gave fools hope.
He wouldn’t have taken Chatterley for a fool.
After counting to five, he followed the man inside. It took a moment to orient himself in the dim candlelight. The cacophony brewed around him like poison. Shouts of triumph or bemoaning success. Calls to play, calls to quit. Laughter, rowdy suggestions to the women of ill repute who enticed the men, the rattle of dice in cups. Sweat beaded along Adam’s hairline as the crowded room was transfixed by the ghost of a ship deck. Screams instead of challenges, battle cries instead of calls for luck. Deafening cannons, bullets, steel on steel.
He was not on a ship anymore. The floor beneath him was solid, not swaying. Adam swallowed hard and shut his eyes, his heart hammering in his ears. If anything, that seemed to make it worse. His mouth was dry and scratchy. His hands trembled. He needed to get out.
He opened his eyes. The chaos of the din seemed to unfurl around him at twice the normal speed, to match his racing heart. At the west end of the room, a man slipped into a corridor. A man who resembled Chatterley’s height and build. Adam pursued him, desperate to leave the crowd behind. He pushed his way through the bodies, flinching at the rattle of dice that sounded more like bullets.
The corridor, deserted by the time he reached it, held only one door at its far side. With every step, he left the sound of the main room and its gruesome memories behind. But he was still on edge, his breath cutting down his throat and making it hard for him to swallow. The narrow walls of the dark corridor threatened to swallow him. He blindly pursued the exit.
The door led to fresh, cool air. When it shut behind him, the burble of voices fell away. He paused, drinking in a deep breath, then again. He was on land. He was safe. War couldn’t follow him here.
The cock of a gun splintered his thoughts. His ears roared. The butt of the pistol pressed into the small of his back.
Kill. Kill. Kill.
“You’ve been following me.”
Dimly, above the clamor of his instincts, Adam recognized Chatterley’s voice. It didn’t seem connected to the present. To the gun at his back, to the war left to fight. His muscles bunched, preparing to move. Instinct. Kill. His only choice—dying—was not an option. He couldn’t leave Lily alone.
Lily. Chatterley. The present. No war, at least not the way he knew.
“I don’t like the way you spoke to my wife tonight.”
Chatterley laughed, a hollow and bitter sound. “You don’t get to tell me what to do—”
Adam reacted to the hostility in Chatterley’s voice. He turned, lashed out, wrapped his fingers around the grip of the gun. When the haze cleared, his hand trembling with the urge to do violence, he found Chatterley on the ground and the pistol in his hand.
Kill, kill, kill.
No. Adam didn’t do that anymore. He gasped for breath, struggling to think clearly.
Fear making his voice high, Chatterley informed him, “If you kill me, the truth will come to light. I made arrangements in the case of my death.”
Adam battled for control of himself. He disarmed the pistol, put it in his greatcoat pocket. His fists curled. They ached with the force. He stepped back, smothering the mantra in his head and all of his instincts. With one hand, he gestured for Chatterley to rise.
The man did so tentatively, leaning heavily against the wall as if his knees shook too hard to support his weight.
A flood of satisfaction grounded Adam in the moment, helping to chase away his demons. It wasn’t near the punishment Chatterley deserved.
“You frightened Lily tonight. That is unacceptable.” When Chatterley started to protest, he raised his voice, speaking over the weasel. “Don’t speak to me of consequences. This time, I will tell you the consequences. I don’t have a care for my name. If you harm her, you’ll be floating in the Thames.”
“The information would hurt her, too.”
That knowledge alone was what had parted Adam from Lily’s side four years ago. He was not going to let it wedge between them again. After all, he’d had four years to find a solution to spare her. If she accepted it, no one would be able to harm her.
For now, Chatterley had a noose hanging around their necks. One that tightened with every breath Adam took.
Adam pinned him to the wall with an arm across his shoulders. Leaning close enough for Chatterley to see the fury in his eyes, he warned, “I’ll say this one last time: keep a civil tongue in your head when you talk to my wife.”
“Are you sure she’ll be your wife much longer?”
Adam leaned harder on his arm. “Is that a threat?”
“An observation.” The strangled sound of Chatterley’s voice did little to squelch his evident satisfaction. “Now that you’re here, she may decide to seek a divorce. She despises you. You don’t think she’ll do everything in her power to be free of you?”
Heaven help him, but Lily might decide to leave him in her dust. Adam had thought he’d made his peace with that eventuality. He’d even considered helping, should she ask it of him, or simply staying out of her life if she decided she couldn’t spare the expense or scandal. However, that resolution had been forged before he’d met her again. Before he’d tasted her lips and worked shoulder to shoulder with her. Before they’d become partners, as they always should have been.
Now, he didn’t think he could walk away.
But Lily— She believed he had stolen from and abandoned her for his own profit. She believed he hadn’t wanted to make love to her, when the truth had him awake late at night, aching for her. Without knowing the truth, she might very well decide to leave him.
Could he tell her the truth without putting her in danger? Adam held Chatterley’s gaze, his
jaw clenched. If he misjudged his wife and she ran to Chatterley with what he told her, she would topple everything he had worked toward building in the years they’d been separated. Despite the blackmail, she called this slug a friend.
Adam tossed him aside like a rag doll. “You’ve been warned. The next time won’t come with a warning.”
He turned, his greatcoat fluttering around him as he strode briskly down the alley. The hairs on the back of his neck stood at attention as he awaited a parting shot. Chatterley must not have been clever enough to bring more than one pistol, because Adam reached the street unscathed in body, if not in heart.
He owed Lily a conversation—one he didn’t know if she trusted him enough to believe.
Chapter Seventeen
The day after the dinner party, Lily opened the door to find Miss Granby on her doorstep, shoulders bunched around her ears and eyes shining behind her spectacles.
Miss Granby jabbed a finger at her in accusation. “It did not work. You promised me it would work.”
Lily opened her mouth, then shut it again. She didn’t know how to respond.
With a sniffle, Miss Granby tucked a stray tendril of hair behind her ear. She looked miserable. “Don’t you intend to invite me inside?”
Ever since Lily had sold off most of their belongings, the house wasn’t fit for entertaining. “Perhaps you’d care to take a walk instead?”
Miss Granby tipped her face up to the overcast sky, scowling. “It’s dreadful out here. I think it will rain.”
Hell and damnation. Perhaps the sole sitting room wouldn’t be too offensive, provided Sophie wasn’t currently occupying it. Lily bared her teeth in what she hoped passed for a smile. “Please, come in.”
Imperiously, Miss Granby stepped into the house, waiting as Lily shut the door behind her. “Thank you.”
“May I take your shawl?”
Miss Granby gripped it tighter around herself. “I don’t think so. I shan’t be staying long. I only meant to…to…” She pressed her lips tight and stared at her shoes.
“To chastise me?”
The young woman turned a frightening shade of plum. She looked close to tears. She couldn’t be much older than Willa.
Lily squeezed the other woman’s arm reassuringly. “Come with me, then. Let’s have a chat. Would you like some tea?”
Miss Granby nodded, mute.
Despite her aggressive entrance, she proved biddable as Lily led her into the sole sitting room with room to sit. As they passed framed watercolor paintings, the young woman’s eyebrows drew together with curiosity.
“My sister,” Lily supplied. “She fancies herself something of an artist.”
“They are lovely.”
There was the hint of a question in her voice, as if she didn’t believe the lie herself. Lily fought not to smile. “They’re lively, to be sure.”
She stopped short in the threshold of the sitting room. Although she’d half expected to find Sophie seeking solace inside a book, she hadn’t expected to find her husband doing the same. A frisson clambered down her spine at the sight of him bent over the book Lily had borrowed, seemingly captivated by the content. Lately, it had been altogether too easy to share her house with him, almost as if he belonged.
Dangerous thoughts. He’d proven yet again yesterday evening when he’d left the house upon their return that he had no intention of continuing the baffling kiss he’d delivered in Lord Granby’s sitting room. In fact, she’d expected him to avoid her.
Adam, it seemed, defied expectations.
Upon noticing their arrival, Adam flipped the book over the arm of the chair to mark his place. He stood, betraying no hint of surprise upon finding their guest. “Miss Granby, so good to see you again.”
“I offered her some tea,” Lily supplied.
Adam gave her a nod of understanding. Only the household knew that Lily had dismissed all the servants, or so she hoped. Thus far, Miss Granby hadn’t batted an eyelash when Lily had opened her own door. Perhaps she had been too distraught to wonder at the coincidence.
“I’ll see to it,” Adam promised. He crossed halfway to the door before hesitating. “Unless you would prefer a libation instead?”
The color returned to Miss Granby’s cheeks. She shook her head. “Tea will do.”
“Then it won’t be but an instant.”
In a moment that stole Lily’s breath, he leaned down and pressed a quick kiss to her cheek. Her skin tingled as he pulled away, whistling a jaunty tune as he left the room. She stared after him. Had he kissed her solely to maintain their personas?
“Mrs. Darling?”
Lily shook herself. She motioned for Miss Granby to sit and took the seat across from her. “What has you so distraught?”
The young woman looked at her hands, twisting in her skirts. “You know very well what has me so distraught. You saw what happened last night.”
Lily frowned, thinking over the evening. “I don’t recall anything causing much of a stir.”
“Precisely! I performed your instructions to the letter. I wore my best dress, pinched color into my cheeks, laughed at everything he said. He likely thinks I’m unhinged.”
Perhaps she ought not to have laughed at everything the poor fellow said. Fighting the urge to giggle, Lily asked, “Was this Mr. Peabody?”
Miss Granby turned cherry red and pulled her knees up to her chest. She balanced the heels of her slippers on the edge of the settee. Fortunately, the furniture had seen far rougher treatment. “Yes.”
The word passed her lips barely louder than a breath. Lily leaned forward to better hear.
“I know him well. He works for my father, you see, and he visits the house daily. I only wish… I wish he would see me as more than my father’s daughter. As a woman.”
“Then you ought to act with more mystery.”
Miss Granby jumped at Adam’s voice. Hastily, she slid her feet to the floor.
As though he didn’t notice the way their guest colored up, Adam carried in the tea service and set it on the table next to the overturned book. Lily took over, pouring three cups. She put one on a saucer in front of Miss Granby, leaving the sugar and milk within easy reach.
The young woman didn’t appear to notice. Despite her heightened color, she hadn’t taken her eyes off Adam. “Whatever do you mean?”
He flashed her a smile. “Men love puzzles. Am I right to understand that this Mr. Peabody is an intellectual?”
Miss Granby nodded.
Dropping into his seat—disconcertingly close to the one Lily occupied—Adam waved a hand. “I imagine a man like him thrives on a challenge. He wants a woman to engage him intellectually.”
Miss Granby straightened. She fiddled with her spectacles, quivering with excitement. “I can do that. I study the same subjects he does, and more besides. I’m knowledgeable in all manner of things.” Her gaze flicked to Lily, then returned to the man at her side. “Including antiquities.”
“That’s all well and good for after you have his attention. But in order to get it, I suggest you act more aloof. He’ll want to uncover your secrets, but only if you have secrets to keep.”
The young woman’s face wrinkled as she frowned. “But I haven’t got any secrets.”
“Pretend you do, or find a secret to keep.”
Lily raised an eyebrow at him. “I don’t think you’re making this any easier for her.”
He leaned back in his chair, admiring Lily from beneath half-lidded eyes. “To the contrary, my dear. I pursued you for the mystery.”
She snorted. “What mystery? I’m a hardworking woman. That’s all I’ve ever been.”
He cocked his head. “To the contrary. You have as many facets as the gems you adore. The fact that you are a hardworking, honest woman is only one of them. Any man who looks deeper will know there’s more to
you than what meets the eye.”
The conviction in this voice left no doubt that he meant every word.
He can make a headache sound intriguing. Nevertheless, she felt her cheeks heat. She held his gaze for a moment longer before turning her attention to their guest. She seemed a safer subject.
Miss Granby was so riveted upon Adam’s every word that she nearly toppled forward into her tea. Awed, she whispered, “Is that how you fell in love?”
Their courtship hadn’t been nearly so poetic. In fact, he’d begun by confessing that his intentions were less than honorable. She should have slammed the door in his face. She hadn’t, and the next few months had been the happiest in her life.
I’m being honest with you. That’s more than I give to any other woman.
But he hadn’t been honest. Somehow, it had all been to his benefit and her detriment. Now he had returned without asking for a thing, not even her time. In the few months of their courtship and marriage, she had learned to read him. She still remembered those words, years later. Even knowing what he was, she’d chosen to trust him. She saw nothing in his demeanor but a genuine sympathy for Miss Granby’s plight. They’d accomplished their goal—an invitation into Lord Granby’s home—but still, he took the time to advise the heartsore young woman.
Adam offered his hand to Lily as he stood. “Come, my love. Shut the door and we’ll show her precisely how to win the attention of this Mr. Peabody. A demonstration, if you will.”
Miss Granby, as unconventional and heedless of propriety as she was, did not object. With the door shut, even with the young woman in the room, Lily felt as though she and Adam were alone. He watched her with an intensity that left her breathless. When he stepped closer, a shiver raised gooseflesh over her arms and neck. His warm breath chased them away.
“You will be the aggressor,” he reminded her.
She had tried that with him before. Adam had pushed her away.
Without waiting for her response, he turned to Miss Granby. “You must start with the knowledge that you are the most beautiful woman in the room.”
The Price of Temptation Page 20