“There’s nothing left to say. Get ready. We have a ball to attend, dear wife.”
With that, he spun on his heel, leaving Georgina more shattered and broken than the lone tumbler lying in jagged shards at her feet.
To keep from descending into madness, she fell back into the role she’d assumed for the past years—that of maid. Georgina sank to the floor and began to collect the tiny bits of glass, gathering it into a neat little pile. She welcomed the sting of pain as the occasional shard punctured her skin, even embraced the flood of nausea that her small drops of blood elicited. They reminded her that she was alive. She’d survived twenty years of being beaten, emotionally battered, and unloved at her father’s hands, and she would survive this too.
A sob escaped her. The tears flowed as her body was wracked by convulsive gasps of despair. This was so very different from the hurt she’d known at her father’s hands. He was a vile, greedy traitor. Adam was good, and honest, and caring. And he’d made her believe in love. He’d made her believe there was goodness in the world.
Only now did she confront the truth, the ugly reminder that the Lord had decided she was a person undeserving of love and happiness.
She buried her head in her hands, weeping until her ribs ached and her throat burned.
He expected her to don her lovely sea-foam green gown and paste a smile to her face. The urge to run was strong. Her gaze darted around the room in search of valuables. Surely, she could take enough of value and be gone? Flee this world of false happiness and go somewhere…
“If you could go anywhere, where would you go?”
“Why bother, Adam? Dreams aren’t real.”
“Surely you must have dreams?”
“Dreams are for small children.”
“Wouldn’t you want to see Paris?”
“We’re on the cusp of war with France,” she pointed out. “I hardly think Paris would be my best destination.”
He waved his hand. “Fine, Rome then, or Greece. Don’t you want to see the world?”
The whisperings of that day were so vivid it was like being transported to the small chambers that had served as Adam’s prison.
He’d asked where she would go…but she was in the only place in the world she would ever want to be.
And it was the one place she would never be allowed to stay.
Chapter 20
Georgina had tucked herself into the corner of the spacious carriage bearing them to Lady Ashton’s ball for her introduction into Society. She had the look of a small fox burrowing within the fabric of her shimmering blue cloak as though she feared he’d reach over and strangle her.
The image she evoked raised the ugly reminder of who she was. Fox’s kin—his enemy and captor’s daughter.
Adam directed his attention outside to the passing scenery. That way he didn’t have to see her ashen cheeks and those wide, wounded, brown eyes. When she looked at him as if he’d torn apart her world, his insides roiled with remorse. Adam reminded himself that Georgina’s misery was of her own making. He told himself her tears were the practiced tools of a skilled actress.
None of that mattered; guilt threatened to rip him apart. It only made him that much more enraged…with himself. With her. With all of it. Not even the bottle of whiskey he’d consumed that day had managed to quash the dull hurt.
How dare she look at him as if he’d betrayed her? Not when she’d been the one to deceive him from the moment they’d first met, the one who’d lured him in and trapped him into this sham of a marriage.
Bennett had assured Adam the marriage would be dissolved—either by Georgina’s death or upon special orders from the king himself.
The promise should have eased Adam’s troubled mind. Instead, whenever he thought of her gone from his life, it felt like his heart had withered and died within his chest. He told himself his reservations stemmed from a fear of the way the dissolution would reflect on his mother and brothers. The words rang hollow in his mind.
The carriage drew to a halt. Adam peered out the window at the long line of guests before them.
He gritted his teeth. Bloody wonderful. Just what he needed: more time alone with his wife.
Wife.
His lip curled and he dropped the curtain back into place.
“Here we are,” he said flatly. “Are you prepared to use your skills to charm the lords and ladies this evening?” She opened her mouth to speak, but he cut into her response. “Do you fear being viewed as an interloper?” he asked viciously.
With her grace and elegance, no one could take her for anything but a lady.
That irascible, brown tendril escaped the artful arrangement of curls atop her head. She brushed it back, angling her chin upwards. “I’ve lived through a good deal more than the haute ton. The last thing I fear is their treatment of me.”
Ah, how very brave his wife was. He could detect the faint tremble in her words and yet she spoke with resolve and courage.
He gripped the edge of the seat and he blinked back the effects of too much alcohol.
Bloody Georgina for making him turn to the bloody alcohol. He raised a brow. “Am I supposed to feel bad for you, Georgina?”
She tilted her chin back another notch. “I don’t want your pity.”
Damn her for not giving him the fight he’d been spoiling for since he’d left her alone in his office. It would be far easier to hate her if she were victorious in her deceit. Instead, she appeared broken, and it was playing havoc with his heart and mind.
They didn’t speak until their carriage arrived at the front of the line. Adam leaned across the carriage and Georgina flinched. Her gaze darted around the carriage like a battered animal seeking escape. Adam recoiled. He could not forgive her. But he’d never lay his hands on her. How could she believe he’d ever harm her?
Adam held a finger up. “My mother and brothers are working very hard to see you accepted into Society. Do not shame them this night. Is that clear?”
She gave a jerky nod. “H-how…w-what…?”
“Yes?” he demanded when she fell silent.
Georgina studied her folded hands. “W-will you stand beside me?”
“Georgina, it hardly matters if we are seen as a happy couple. Members of the ton would be more repulsed if we showed affection. Therefore, our animosity will be perfectly suited.”
She flinched. “I have no animosity toward you.”
The driver opened the carriage door, saving him from uttering words that would surely crumple her already pained face. He directed his attention toward the front of the townhouse, not even deigning to offer Georgina his hand.
They climbed the steps in complete silence. Adam took great pains to avoid any physical contact with his wife, concentrating his efforts on putting one drunken foot in front of the other. The slow pace he set for himself allowed Georgina to match his stride.
They moved into the receiving line and awaited their turn to greet the host and hostess.
Their names were called. A sea of rabidly curious eyes fixed on him and Georgina. He stole a glance at her from the corner of his eye and found her remarkably composed. It was also the first time he’d seen her in the sea-foam green gown selected by his mother. With the subtle flare of her hips and the lush spill of her bosom, Georgina had the look of a sea nymph.
As if she felt his stare, Georgina looked up at him.
He returned his gaze to the crowd below. The moment they were introduced, Adam and Georgina descended the steps and wound their way through a crush of guests.
Bevies of disapproving scowls were directed at his wife, but the cool contempt did not seem to penetrate Georgina’s stoic expression.
His mother and brothers came into focus. Tony raised his hand in greeting and all but elbowed his way to the crowd to meet them.
“Poor fool’s been charmed by you. Ten times the fool he is,” he muttered beneath his breath.
A graying matron nearby gasped behind her hand, her eyes widened in delight
ed shock at being privy to such intimate words. The old harridan rushed off, most likely to share good gossip with anyone who would listen.
Georgina’s pallor turned a sickly shade of white and she looked at him with accusing eyes.
I will not feel bad. I will not feel bad.
In spite of the silent mantra, his gut churned.
Then Tony was there, beaming a broad smile for Georgina. He bowed. “Hullo, sis! You look even more stunning than usual.” He claimed her hand for a kiss. A hissing gasp escaped her. Tony frowned, turning her hand over.
Georgina pulled her fingers back and dipped a curtsy. Red surged to her cheeks. “Thank you,” she said softly.
Adam gritted his teeth. On any other day, with any other woman, it should have been him showering compliments on his wife…not his brother. He and Georgina, however, were no more than two souls bound by lies and deception.
Georgina lifted her gaze to his and Adam tore his eyes away. He’d not be duped by the façade of innocence she wore.
Mother and Nick appeared.
Adam greeted his mother with a deep bow and nearly tipped over, flat upon his face.
“Whoa,” Nick said, helping right him.
Adam grinned. “Are you here tooo pay respects to my looovely wife?”
Mother and Nick exchanged a look.
“Come, nothing to say to my beautiful, loyal wife?” he prodded.
Georgina bit her lower lip, tears pooling in her eyes.
“What’s the matter with you?” Tony asked, taking a step toward him.
Adam stumbled a bit but closed the distance between him and Tony. So this was how it was to be? He would now fight his brother in public for this lying traitor?
By God, she is not worth it.
He took a step back.
His mother smiled through gritted teeth. “Adam, I must insist that you stop right now.” She had the same look in her eyes that she’d had the day he’d collected a basket of frogs and released them during a dinner party at their country estate.
Nick directed a frown at Georgina. “I would like to request the first dance.” He shot a look at Adam. “That is, if your husband doesn’t mind?”
Adam chuckled. “Not in the least. Take her. Please take her.”
Mother’s eyes went round as saucers.
Nick glared at him. “Come, join me for refreshments,” he said when Tony took a step forward, most likely to lay him flat in Lady Ashton’s ballroom.
Said like that, in his very earl-like tone, Adam had little choice but to follow along, leaving his mother and Tony alone with the vicious viper he’d married.
The two brothers wound their way through the throng of guests, Adam taking pains to ignore the greetings and well-wishes directed his way, responding with a glare for anyone without the sense to leave him alone.
Adam reached for a flute of champagne, but Nick plucked it from his fingers swifter than a pickpocket from the Seven Dials. “I think you’ve had enough,” he said between clenched teeth, taking a refined sip of the bubbling brew.
Adam’s throat went dry and need gripped him. “Give me the bloody glass.”
Nick finished the contents of the crystal flute in one long swallow. A servant materialized as if out of thin air, and Nick placed the empty glass on the tray and waved the young man away.
His brother said nothing for a long while. When he did, his words were so faint they barely reached Adam’s ears. “I don’t care if you have suddenly realized your foolish error in wedding Miss Wilcox. It is something that cannot be undone. So put a smile on your bloody face, conduct yourself in a respectable manner, and get back to her side.”
Without waiting for a response, Nick turned on his heel and disappeared through the crowded ballroom.
Adam stared after him. He would rejoin his wife. But first…
He reached for a glass of champagne.
First, he’d have another drink.
* * *
Once upon a time, she’d had grand dreams of her entrance into Bristol’s society of merchants. She would be courted by handsome, witty, kind, young gentlemen. They would shower her with flowers and write odes to her otherwise non-existent beauty.
Those dreams had died a swift death when she’d made her debut.
Remarkably, her introduction into London Society would appear to be an even greater disaster. Adam was soused. He was slurring horrible, hurtful things for the ears of any and all who happened to be near and—she glanced around—in this crush, everyone was near.
Then, of course, there were the sneers dripping with noble condescension from the ladies. Georgina couldn’t decide which was worse—the ladies’ haughty stares or their husbands ogling her embarrassingly plump bosom. She tamped down the urge to fold her arms and shield herself.
Thankfully, Tony had not left her side. Even the Countess of Whitehaven remained staunchly at her elbow.
Georgina would never be able to repay them. She bit the inside of her cheek. Repay them? When her identity was revealed and she was landed in Newgate, all she would bring to these lovely people was greater shame and heartache.
“How about a dance?” Tony asked, not for the first time.
Georgina shook her head. “N-no. Thank you. I…” Her words trailed off as an exceedingly handsome couple appeared on the stairway. They possessed the utter perfection that artists would salivate to replicate on canvas. The tall, muscular gentleman attired all in black had drawn the notice of every single lady in the ballroom.
Not Georgina. Her eyes were fixed on the golden Athena at the dark stranger’s elbow. Tall, lithe, and impossibly elegant, she was everything Georgina was not.
Georgina had committed that face to memory many months ago.
Grace Blakely.
In this sea of strangers, Grace appeared to be scouring the room, searching, searching, before her eyes alighted on a single person. Georgina told herself not to look, but she could no sooner stop her heart from beating than resist the pull. She followed Grace’s violet gaze right to Adam.
He had the look of a man who’d been cleaved in two by a mighty sword.
The pain of their reunion sucked the air from Georgina’s lungs. She swayed on her feet.
The countess gasped, reaching out just as Tony did to keep her standing.
“Are you all right?” Tony asked, his voice coming as if down a long hall.
She stared blankly through the crowd at Adam, punishing herself with the emotion in his expressive eyes laid bare for all to see. Regret. Pain. Loss. Anger. He read like a book, and she wanted to rip out the bloody pages and grind them beneath her heel.
“Are you all right, my dear?” This time it was Adam’s mother.
Georgina shook her head. “I-I…” She needed to get away from this. From all of this. If she continued to stand there, she would collapse amongst a crowd that would like nothing better than to shred her to pieces. She did what she’d longed to do since their arrival. She walked away. Moving through the crowd. Disregarding the stares. Ignoring Tony calling after her.
There had to be somewhere she could go for some privacy. She darted between perfect strangers and passed down long corridors.
When the din of the crowded ballroom was no more than a distant hum, she glanced over her shoulder, feeling blessedly free. Georgina continued on to the nearest room and shoved the door open.
She shut it behind her. Leaning against the protective barrier, she closed her eyes and sighed.
“Well, well, Mrs. Markham. It would appear we meet again,” a cultured voice drawled.
Her eyes popped open. A scream climbed up her throat but went nowhere. She pressed her hand to her pounding heart and stared back at the Duke of Aubrey.
He sat on their host’s sofa, drinking the man’s brandy, looking for all the world as though it were his own palace. The duke held his glass up in mock salute but made no move to rise.
Georgina wet her lips. A sinister darkness clung to him and the last thing she needed was mo
re of what this hardened man represented. She started to leave.
“Please stay, Mrs. Markham. I find myself in need of good company as well.”
She paused. “And you’ve decided I’m good company?” She couldn’t keep the bitter words from spilling off her tongue.
He took a small sip, smiling around the rim of his glass. “I’ve decided you are better company than most of the people out there.”
Her brow furrowed. “Oh, and you’ve reached such an exalted opinion from our in-depth exchanges?” Georgina bit the inside of her cheek, wishing she could call the mocking words back.
The duke laughed.
She didn’t know what possessed her to remain here with this stranger, baiting him. Logic told her to turn on her heels and flee to the nearest empty rooms. Something kept her back. Her toes curled in her slippers at the image of Adam and Grace indelibly burned in her mind. If she returned to the ballroom, she’d have to confront the pain of watching her husband pine for his lost love.
“I like you, Mrs. Markham.”
Georgina said nothing. She hadn’t quite made up her mind about the duke. She’d heard Tony’s low opinion of the roguish peer but had long ago learned to form her own opinions, basing them on more than mere gossip and happenstance.
The duke finished his glass and reached for the decanter. He held it up. “Would you like a glass?”
She shook her head. “No, thank you.” She’d seen what spirits had done to her father, Jamie, and now Adam, and had no interest in turning over her self-control, even for liquid fortitude. “I should leave.” It would not do for them to be discovered alone together. She nearly choked on a mirthless giggle as she imagined being found with the young duke. Oh, the gossips would just love such a juicy tidbit.
Your husband would only care about how it reflects on his family, a cruel voice jeered inside her heart.
“Yet you stay.” He made the observation like a scientist discovering the planetary secrets.
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