The Price of Temptation

by Harmony Williams

  He couldn’t move even a fraction closer to Chatterley. His head pounded. His vision swam and he tasted bile. When he’d hit his head, he may have done irreparable damage. Hell and damnation, was he going to die here, beneath Chatterley’s boot?

  Pain spiked through Adam, lower than his head this time as Chatterley dug in his boot. His throat constricted. He was thirteen, trussed up in the hold of the Nemesis, being told what a pleasure it was for him to serve the Crown and do his duty.

  No. He was not thirteen anymore. Those memories, unlike the ones of battle, were thin and worn at the edges. The floor didn’t sway beneath his cheek. He smelled the sludge off the bottom of Chatterley’s boot and the lingering lye of the water soaked into him, not the brine of the sea. Two decades had passed, and he was alive. He was free.

  Lily. Think of Lily.

  The pain retreated to a dull ache and intermittent throb. Chatterley stepped back. Derision dripped from his voice like venom as he muttered, “Lily, Lily, Lily.”

  Adam froze, unable to breathe. He hasn’t done anything with her. He wouldn’t. Adam had left her safe in bed.

  “That’s all I ever hear from your lips. Well, Mr. Darling, I know what you’ve done.”

  Far less menacing a diatribe than the coward likely intended. Adam shut his eyes, centered himself, gathered his wits. Lily didn’t know he’d left the house. He had to return to her.

  Chatterley kicked him in the chest. “Pay attention. I don’t care to repeat myself.”

  Adam gasped for at least twenty seconds before he managed to draw in a decent breath. Chatterley’s boot had connected with something tender. It wasn’t the first time he’d kicked Adam.

  When Adam opened his eyes again and made an effort to tilt up his face, his captor seemed appeased. “I thought…you didn’t care to get your hands dirty.” Adam wheezed, forcing out the words between short breaths. Something was wrong with his side. Cracked ribs?

  “Your weak attempts to unbalance me won’t work.”

  Perhaps because you’ve already lost your sanity.

  Adam didn’t have the breath to return the quip. It wouldn’t help him, even if he did. He had to think clearly.

  Unreasonably certain of his safety, Chatterley crouched to look Adam in the eye. “Since you’re so keen to speak of Lily, I know what you’ve done.”

  The papers Adam had burned. The ones he feared were copies of the original. He should have sent the entire damn house up in a conflagration.

  Chatterley cocked his head. “No clever retort, I see.” His mouth, as far as Adam could see without straining his neck, curved up at the edges with satisfaction. “But you see, this is the one time I need you to loosen your tongue. You turned Lily against me.”

  “You did that on your own.”

  Gingerly, as if he didn’t care to touch Adam, Chatterley gripped Adam by the hair and turned his head. His eyes were grim. His nostrils flared. “You convinced Lily that she was better off not capitulating to my request, not I. Where did you stash the armband? I won’t be played for a fool.”

  “A pity… It’s the role for which you’ve trained…your entire life.”

  Despite the breathiness of Adam’s delivery, Chatterley’s grip tightened. He slammed Adam’s head against the ground. The world receded.

  …

  Adam next woke to more unclean water and the tang of blood in his mouth. This time, he couldn’t even lift his head.

  “Let’s try this again,” Chatterley said, biting off every word. “Where is the armband? You’ve already proven you don’t hesitate to steal from your wife.”

  If Adam’s hands had been free, he would have strangled the lesser man. He launched himself at Chatterley in boiling rage, the pain an afterthought.

  When the haze cleared, he was lying on the floor again and Chatterley was as far away as could be managed while still remaining in the same room.

  “…not in any condition to answer questions, sir,” said the manservant by the door, his voice as flat as his expression.

  Chatterley made a disgusted sound. “I’ll leave him to you.” He raised his voice, the edge as sharp as a blade. “Make no mistake, Mr. Darling. You’ll tell me where you’ve hidden that armband. And then I’ll turn you over to your captain. I hope you enjoyed your time with Lily, because you will never see her again.”

  The thunder of the door shutting splintered across Adam’s skull. When he tried to move, he lost the battle with his stomach. The violent shudders of his body only intensified the pain in his skull. Spent, he lay limp, arms contorted behind his back, unable to so much as crawl away from the mess. Worst yet, he couldn’t feel his hands to move them. A full breath out of reach, he had nothing but his misery and helplessness to keep him company. Tears leaked from his eyes.

  Lily. He wouldn’t come home and this time, she would never know why.

  …

  By dinnertime, there was no question, no hope. Adam was gone.

  The last time this had happened… Lily’s heart skipped a beat. She had attempted to pay the innkeeper and discovered that the bank note was no longer valid. Her husband had signed her dowry into another account.

  What had he stolen from her this time?

  The armband.

  She dashed upstairs, her heart thundering in her ears. She fumbled through the room she’d shared with him, a room that smelled ever so faintly of his cologne. Where had she set the case when she’d returned last night?

  Dear Lord, had it only been last night? It felt like an eternity.

  There—tucked into a corner behind the door. She fell upon it and clawed it open. Her heart felt like a winged bird, battering at the cage of her ribs. Loud and painful. Grimacing, she scattered her tools on the floor next to her, each clinking against the wood. She found the catch to the secret compartment beneath. The false bottom joined the strewn tools. Beneath…

  When her hands met a cool metal object, she nearly wept with relief. Gingerly, she pulled it out, blinking away her blurry vision. Was it the original artifact or one of the failed forgeries, as she’d suggested to her sisters to use to buy them time? Her fingers slipped over her tools as she drew them nearer and skirted back into a pool of light from the dying sun. She fixed the monocle to her eye and peered at her prize. In her head, she listed all of the flaws Reid had so cruelly pointed out with her previous attempts.

  None. She found none of them. This was the ancient armband.

  Adam hadn’t stolen it? Relief gushed from her lungs in a long sigh. Tears flooded onto her cheeks. She cradled the object in her lap and turned her face up to the ceiling.

  What was she to do with it now?

  Chapter Thirty

  Another invitation. Another evening spent ingratiating herself and pretending to be someone she was not. Lily wanted none of it. Days had passed since she’d stolen the armband and Adam had left her.

  But she had to return it. It wasn’t hers to keep nor to give away.

  Under her breath, she muttered, “You didn’t have to come. I promised to return it and I will.”

  Willa squeezed Lily’s arm as they stared up the steps to the door of Lord Granby’s townhouse. Even the house itself seemed to scowl at them disapprovingly. The looming clouds overhead didn’t help.

  “I’m not here to monitor you. I’m here for support.”

  Lily stretched her lips, but it didn’t feel close to a smile. Slowly, they began the inexorable climb to the door. When it swung open, Lily peered at the scuffed toes of her slippers, peeking out from beneath her hem. Strangely enough, Willa’s larger feet next to hers gave her comfort and strength.

  She lifted her eyes. “Is Miss Granby at home? Tell her it’s Mrs.—” Her voice caught. “Mrs. Darling.”

  For a brief, blissful time, she’d fooled herself into thinking that she and Adam would be man and wife in truth. She’d given her
self to him…again—her heart and her body. And, like he had four years ago, he had tossed her aside. In the hole left by his absence, she had biting questions and doubts. What if everything between them had been a lie?

  “Right this way, madam.”

  As Lily stepped into the house, Willa tightened her hold. When Lily looked at her sister, she found a fierce expression on Willa’s face.

  “You’re doing the right thing, Lily. I’ll be next to you the entire time.”

  Lily smiled. At least this time around, she had something more valuable from the trial than the dignity that had been stripped from her. She had her sisters, who, thanks to this ordeal, had drawn ever closer to her. She should have confessed the truth to them years ago.

  “Thank you.”

  The footman led them into the house. His gaze strayed to the parcel in her arms, but when she held it closer, he didn’t ask after it. Instead, he showed them into the plant-riddled sitting room she had visited on more than one occasion. Lily sank into a cushion, barely hearing his offer to bring her some tea. She shook her head, not trusting herself to speak as anxiety knotted in her throat. He departed without another word. Willa sat next to her, clutching her hand tightly.

  Her thoughts clattered around her mind like the rattle of dice. She’d gambled so much for the chance at happiness, only to have it ripped away from her. These past few days, she had tried to distract herself—tried to accept the comfort her sisters offered, but from time to time the pity they poorly hid threatened to swallow her.

  She tried going to the shop and working herself into exhaustion, but the workroom only reminded her of working elbow to elbow with Adam. The easy way he used to tease her, the companionable silence, the frequent touches as if he reassured himself of her presence. Those happy memories soured with his absence.

  Worse still was the tight panic that gripped her every time she relieved herself and still found no blood.

  “Mrs. Darling. I’m surprised you’re here.”

  Lily looked up at the cold, clipped voice. Miss Granby, bristling with indignation, pushed her spectacles higher on her nose and stormed to the chair opposite Lily. She sat, not bothering with pleasantries as she glared at her visitor.

  “And who is this?”

  “My sister, Willa.”

  Miss Granby spared her only the slightest nod before facing Lily once more. “Are you here to give me more dastardly advice?”

  Lily’s strength failed her. She leaned into Willa as she held out the parcel. Her hand trembled. When Miss Granby made no move to take it, Lily placed the parcel, still wrapped, on the table between them. “This belongs to your father.” Her voice was no more than a whisper.

  Curiosity overcoming her, Miss Granby leaned forward and lifted the edge of the fabric. Disgust curled her lip. She dropped the fabric as if bitten. Jaw clenched, she turned to look at the window, though with the leaves and blooms crowding around the sill, there was precious little to see.

  “Papa noticed something was amiss. I should have known. I should have known from the start.” She blinked rapidly, clenching her hands on her lap.

  Each word pierced Lily like a needle. She took them without comment, without apology. She deserved every last barb.

  “It was wrong of me to take it. I don’t expect you to forgive me, but I thought it would be better in the hands of its rightful owner than in those of the person who coerced me to take it.”

  Miss Granby sneered. “Would that be your husband? If you have one.”

  Lily flinched.

  “Adam is my husband, but he didn’t…”

  The young woman didn’t appear to be listening. She slammed her clenched fists on her knees. The thump ricocheted through Lily’s hollow chest.

  Willa surged to her feet, her eyes sharp. “It wasn’t her fault, and she’s doing the right thing.”

  Miss Granby didn’t appear to hear. She squeezed her eyes shut. Her voice thick with emotion, she said, “This is your fault. You gave me false advice so I would invite you to Papa’s dinner parties. And now look what’s happened—he’s leaving the country!”

  Adam?

  Lily exchanged a glance with Willa. Confused, her sister slowly sank onto the cushion next to Lily again.

  Surely, Miss Granby couldn’t know something about Adam that they did not. Lily hadn’t the faintest idea where he was, or if he’d intended to leave England.

  No, if she had referred to Adam, tears would not have sparkled behind her spectacles, magnified by the glass.

  In a soft voice, Lily asked, “Who is leaving?”

  “Mr. Peabody,” she said on a sob. She dashed the tears from her cheeks impatiently and aimed a watery glare in Lily’s direction. “I did everything you said, but it didn’t work. He’s leaving the country on an expedition! Who knows when I’ll see him next?”

  Willa perched on the edge of her seat, ready to rise at the slightest provocation. “You… You don’t care about the theft?”

  “That old thing?” Miss Granby produced a handkerchief. She wrung it between her hands. “Who cares, Papa has a dozen more like it. But this was supposed to be my…” She squeezed her eyes shut again, looking pained.

  That afternoon she had visited Lily, Adam had been so tender in his treatment of Miss Granby. He’d seemed to genuinely care.

  Like he genuinely cared about you?

  The voice was so small, she brushed it away like a fly. Oh, bother. She swallowed back a hard lump. He had left her again, but this time, she couldn’t muster the same anger. He had shown her more of himself, shared secrets about himself, enraptured her body and soul. The man who’d taken pity on distraught bluestockings and taught them how to flirt— That was the man Lily loved, despite everything. His abandonment hurt so much more. When would it end?

  “I’m sorry, you’ve lost me.”

  At Willa’s statement, Miss Granby turned cherry pink. She hid behind the handkerchief.

  Too much space separated them for Lily to comfort the poor woman properly. “Adam didn’t lead you astray. His advice was sound.”

  If anything, that seemed to deepen Miss Granby’s despair. She sniffled. “It’s me, then?”

  “It might be a misunderstanding. You should speak with him and tell him how you feel.”

  The ragged breath Miss Granby drew in sounded closer to a sob. “What if I do and he still leaves?”

  Willa scoffed. “If he does, he doesn’t deserve you.”

  Color bloomed in Miss Granby’s cheeks as she lifted her gaze, her eyes wide. “Why would you say that? You don’t even know me.”

  “But I do, and my sister has the right of it. You’re intelligent, witty, pretty. He’d have to be blind to turn away from you, especially after you confess your love for him. He won’t find a better woman.”

  The blush mantling Miss Granby’s cheeks deepened. She worried her handkerchief again. “I’m frightened. I’m frightened I’ll tell him and he’ll still leave.”

  Lily’s heart clenched. That was precisely what had happened to her, wasn’t it? For all Adam’s pretty words, his actions had proven how he truly felt. He didn’t want her for life.

  “Bollocks,” Willa said, with feeling.

  Lily jumped. “Willa!”

  Her sister wrinkled her nose but didn’t apologize. “That’s what such sentiments are. Miss Granby, if your Mr. Peabody doesn’t worship the air you breathe, then he isn’t worth your time. You’ll find someone more worthy, trust me.”

  Astounded, Lily gaped at her sister. Willa’s words were infused with such conviction and confidence. She believed them. Which meant she must think the same of Mr. Sanderson. Warmth bloomed in Lily’s chest and she reached out to clasp her sister’s hand, sharing a smile with her.

  “You’re absolutely right, Willa.”

  A dimple winked in Willa’s cheek as she smirked. “I k
now I am.”

  Her confidence in herself bled into Lily. She turned to Miss Granby, catching the other woman’s eyes. “If you’ll allow me to offer one more piece of advice? You cannot know how Mr. Peabody will respond until you try.”

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Between the closed shutters, the nausea that afflicted him whenever he moved sharply, and the sustained ache keeping him from falling into a sleeping oblivion, Adam had lost his ability to tell time. A week might have passed since his capture or an eon. Chatterley’s manservant entered at intervals to place porridge in front of Adam’s nose or dribble water between his lips. Adam couldn’t be bothered to help, even if his swimming head would allow it.

  Several times, he’d considered lying to Chatterley, simply so the man would turn him over to the navy. Their justice would be more swift. But the thought of Lily reading of his fate in a broadsheet disgusted him. Her memory was the shining beacon in his soul, the lighthouse warning him away from capsizing.

  He had to know she was safe.

  The door opened again, shut. The footsteps vibrating along his cheek no longer drove into his head like nails. When they stopped in front of him, Adam braced himself for a kick.

  A man tsked instead. “You haven’t eaten.”

  Not Chatterley, but his manservant. Without thinking, Adam gulped in a relieved breath. It hitched as a stab of pain washed through him, but it wasn’t as bad as when he’d first woken like this. He took several shorter breaths in quick succession, steeling himself before he turned his head to view the man looming over him.

  “I don’t know how you expect me to eat with my hands tied behind me.” His voice emerged as cracked as his lips.

  The man hesitated, then crouched down on his heels. “It isn’t right to leave you this way. You must eat.” He scooped the bowl from the floor and dipped the spoon into it before bringing it to Adam’s lips.