She glanced away, unable to deny his charge.
“Just tell me you are happy, Mallory. Convince me that Gresham is truly the man you want above all others.”
Above me.
The unspoken words hung in the air between them.
She had hoped to spare him this, spare both of them, but there was no easy way around it, she realized.
“He is the man I want. I love him, Michael. I love Adam.”
His eyes blazed with an expression that made her chest twist with pain, with remorse. “I care for you very much,” she said. “How could I not when we were once destined to share our lives together? But things have changed since you went away. My feelings are so very different now.”
“Are they? Despite your words, I refuse to believe you feel nothing for me any longer, that the love we once had together is over and done.”
“It is. It has to be. Michael, I’m married.”
Striding to her, he took her hands. “I know, and it’s killing me. I realize it’s wrong, but by God, I still love you, love you so much that I cannot bear the idea that you are gone from me forever. Tell me you feel something of the love you once bore me. Say you haven’t forgotten what we once shared.”
“I have forgotten nothing, but don’t you see that it’s impossible—”
“It’s not,” he pressed. “Come away with me, Mallory, run away with me. We’ll go to Scotland or Wales, or even farther where we’ll never be found. Canada or the Americas; I’ve heard there’s land just waiting to be claimed. We could have an estate as large as your brother’s, maybe even larger depending on where we go.”
“Have you gone insane? I couldn’t possibly leave—”
“Of course you could. Just say yes, and we’ll depart. Pack a bag, and we’ll leave in my carriage today.”
But before she could tell him that she had no intention of going anywhere, a thump sounded in the doorway. Glancing up, she saw with a sick flip in the pit of her stomach that it was not the maid with the tea.
Adam wore a dark, almost satanic glower, his brown eyes turned nearly black with fury. “The squire and I finished our business early,” he said in an icy monotone. “Fancy returning to find you entertaining company, Lady Gresham.”
She’d seen Adam angry before but never this angry, especially when his eyes lowered to her hands that were still being held inside Michael’s. Hastily, she pulled them away, then took a step back to evade Michael as he made a slight move as if to reclaim her.
“Major Hargreaves dropped by unexpectedly,” she said, wishing she hadn’t heard the slight quaver in her voice as though she had done something wrong. “I had no idea he planned to pay me a call.”
Adam’s jaw tensed visibly. “Rather convenient that he happened by on an afternoon while I was away. Mayhap you had a letter from him and have only failed to recall?”
“No. I had no letter from him,” she stated.
Michael shot her a look. “But I wrote. Did you not receive my missive?”
“No, I did not.”
Michael frowned. “But I was sure it had been delivered.”
“Well, the post is never as reliable as one might wish, particularly this time of year,” Adam said in a casual voice.
Ordinarily, she wouldn’t have thought anything about his comment, but a warning tingle ran down her spine.
Adam knows something about that letter, she realized. What has he done?
But she had no time to speculate further as he strode deeper into the room, the set of his shoulders as pugnacious as a prize-fighter’s. “Now that we have that little detail out of the way, we can move on to more important matters, such as the major’s imminent departure.” With a stare worthy of a cobra, he regarded Michael. “I want you out of my house. Now! Unless you’d like to stay for the beating I ought to give you after daring to importune my wife.”
“Have at it then,” Michael shot back. “You’ll find I’m rather handy with my fives.”
“No!” Mallory exclaimed. “There will be no fighting!”
Neither man paid her the least heed, the pair of them moving forward across the room, bristling like wolves circling as they looked for the best angle of attack.
“I’m not going anywhere, Gresham,” Michael said, “not until I’ve said my piece. I know you forced her to write that letter.”
“What letter!” Adam growled, his gaze shooting suddenly to her, his eyes nearly black with fury. “Did you write to him?”
“Only to say good-bye,” she exhorted, panic hammering against her ribs. “Only to end things for good.”
“Because you made her,” Michael continued. “Because you browbeat her just like that day when we were together in London. Since I returned to England, I’ve heard all about your pernicious attentions toward my fiancée while I was away.”
“While you were dead, don’t you mean? And she’s not your fiancée anymore.” Adam took another step forward as Hargreaves circled slowly.
“No, because you coerced and compromised her in spite of her obvious grief over me,” Hargreaves said, pressing on undeterred. “You manipulated matters so that she had no alternative but to accept your suit regardless of her real feelings.”
“Why you—” Adam began.
Michael turned to meet her gaze. “Did he force you, Mallory? Did he seduce you so that you had no choice but to become his wife?”
She shook her head. “No, you’re wrong. It wasn’t like that.”
“He’s always wanted you, you know,” Michael continued. “When we were engaged, I suspected his interest but held my tongue because you always liked him, and he was a friend of your family. I watched how you treated him, saw that you regarded him as nothing more than one of your brothers, and so I decided he was manageable enough. But the moment I was out of the way, his true colours showed through. While you were vulnerable, he took advantage of you, insinuating his way into your life, sneaking like a thief into your bed.”
“Shut your damned mouth,” Adam growled, “or I’ll shut it for you!”
“Listen to him, Mallory, cursing like the scoundrel he is, for all that he bears the title of earl. Is he abusive to you? Are you afraid of him?”
“No,” she protested, shooting Michael an appalled look. “Adam would never hurt me.”
“Would he not? How can you be sure? By his reputation alone, he’s less than honourable. A cad and a womanizer, who probably wanted your dowry, as well as your virtue, so he could use the money to repair this debt-ridden estate of his.”
“If I’d wanted her money, I’d have married her long before you ever came on the scene,” Adam said through clenched teeth. “Remember who you’re talking about, Hargreaves, before you say something you’ll truly regret.”
“You know what I think, Gresham? I think you’re full of nothing but bluster and bravado, empty threats and no action. If you weren’t, you wouldn’t have gone behind my back and stolen my woman from me.” Turning his head, Michael met her gaze and stretched out a hand. “Come away with me, Mallory. Come away with me now, and I promise you’ll never know anything but happiness again.”
Before she could answer, Adam let out a roar and lunged at the other man, landing a solid punch to Michael’s jaw. Well accustomed to defending himself, though, Michael shook it off, retreating briefly before countering with a vicious punch that drove the air from Adam’s stomach.
Adam sucked in a harsh breath, recoiling as he raised an arm in a clearly instinctive move that kept Michael’s next punch from making contact with his face.
Michael’s advantage was short-lived, as Adam retaliated, landing a pair of rapid blows that snapped Michael’s head back in the most alarming way, blood trickling from his nose.
Mallory covered her mouth with a hand, gasping as she watched the two of them pummel each other. “Stop!” she shouted. “Stop this now!”
But they ignored her, fists flying in a series of jabs and punches that made her cringe to watch. Rushing at each other, they l
anded more blows before becoming locked in a brutal, rib-crushing hug, as if each one hoped to squeeze the life out of the other. Shoes slipping, they crashed to the floor, Adam getting in another pair of punches when he managed to land on top.
Shouting futilely at them again to stop, she wrung her hands, her chest squeezing with a horrible pressure. Dear God in heaven, they’re going to kill each other!
Unable to look away, she saw blood drip from the corner of Adam’s mouth, a livid bruise spreading across his cheek. As for Michael, one of his eyes was swollen nearly shut, his mouth cut and his knuckles raw and bleeding.
When she saw Adam’s hands go for Michael’s throat, she knew she had to find some way to end this before one of them really did kill the other.
Just then, an alarmed squeak came from the doorway. Glancing sideways, Mallory saw one of the housemaids standing on the threshold, the tea tray clutched in her hands.
Without pausing, Mallory hurried forward and took hold of a large silver pitcher, grateful she had a standing order to bring water with every service.
Racing across the room to where the men were still grappling with each other, she paused to get the best angle, then poured.
Both men sputtered, cursing and moving apart as each recoiled from having cold water splashed on his head.
“Enough!” she declared, holding the dripping pitcher in one hand. “Stop this now, both of you. There will be no more fighting. I won’t be the cause of this enmity.”
“Mallory,” Hargreaves complained, wiping droplets off his face.
“What in the deuce—” Adam retorted, shaking back his wet hair rather like a great dog.
“I won’t abide the two of you fighting in the middle of the library like a pair of common thugs,” she continued, letting her emotions pour out of her at will. “I won’t have it, do you hear? This fight is over.”
“I don’t think that’s your decision to make,” Adam said. “I’ll decide when I’m done teaching this wife-stealing blackguard a lesson.”
“Oh no you won’t, my lord. I’ll have the footmen in here to pull you off should you attempt any further mayhem.”
“Quite right,” Michael said.
She turned on him. “And once they’re done with Adam, I’ll have them toss you out as well, Major Hargreaves.”
“Mallory—” Michael said, clearly surprised and wounded.
Adam glared at his opponent, looking as if he were considering whether or not to punch him again regardless of her threat. Instead, he gave a guttural curse, levered himself to his feet, then reached into his pocket for a handkerchief. Stepping away from Hargreaves, he pressed the cloth to his wet, bloody face.
Shaking, she set down the pitcher. “Major, please go. I am sure Brooke will see to your coat and hat.”
“Yes, go before I change my mind about killing you,” Adam growled, just like the wolf she’d earlier thought him.
Michael bristled visibly, glaring at Adam. “If it weren’t for Mallory, I’d oblige you to try.” Pausing, he turned to her. “Will you be all right?”
“Yes, of course.” Her shoulders drooped. “Just go, Michael. Please go before this gets any worse.”
Hargreaves opened his mouth as if to argue, his gaze briefly meeting hers before he snapped his jaw closed again. Nodding, he stood. “As you wish, my lady.”
Turning on his heels, he strode from the room.
Clasping her hands around her elbows, she forced herself not to shake, a knot of worry aching in her stomach in spite of her assurances to Michael.
Then Adam turned and fixed his fierce, dark gaze upon her.
“Adam—” she began.
“Go to your room.”
“What?” Her jaw went slack.
“Go to your room. Now! Get out before I—” He broke off and looked away, one fist clenched around his bloodstained handkerchief.
“Before you what?” she murmured, her heart thudding in a dull, heavy beat as a fresh tremor rippled under her skin.
“Before I say or do something I may regret for the rest of my days,” he told her in a low, carefully controlled voice.
She trembled again, her eyes growing moist. “I didn’t know he was going to call today. I believed everything was over between us.”
“Obviously he didn’t have that impression. Mayhap because of your letter to him,” he added in a scathing tone.
“I couldn’t leave things as they were. I didn’t want him to think badly of me. I only wrote him to say good-bye—”
“You told me you wouldn’t contact him,” he grated from between his teeth. “You swore you’d never see him again.”
“And I haven’t, not until today—”
“You broke your pledge, and so conveniently too, just when I happened to be out of the house on business. Did your farewell note suggest a visit?”
“No, it wasn’t like that—” A tear rolled down her cheek.
“Did you know he was going to ask you to run away with him? Or were you just planning to start an affair the moment you were back in Town? Is that why he wanted to meet? So you could make arrangements?”
“Make what arrangements? What do you mean? I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“I’m talking about his letter to you.”
She blinked. “The one he mentioned? The one that went missing?”
“It didn’t go missing,” Adam informed her, his words rolling from his tongue with deliberate menace. “I confiscated it, then I burned it, and by God, I enjoyed seeing what excellent kindling it made.”
She drew in a harsh gasp, blood draining from her cheeks. “Y-You read my mail? You burned my letter?”
“That’s right, and I’d do it again to keep what’s mine.”
“What’s yours?” she repeated in a suddenly dull voice. “You make me sound like a possession.”
“You’re my wife.”
“Yes, and as your wife, you should be willing to hear me out. You should be willing to trust me. But you don’t, do you, Adam? You believe the worst of me, when all I did was try to show some kindness to an old friend.”
“He’s not your friend, nor does he wish to be. He wants to be your lover, and he’s willing to run off with you to make that happen. I heard him with my own ears, begging you to go to Scotland or Wales or bloody America! Well, you’re not going anywhere.”
Something cold and hard settled in her chest where her heart had been, something screamed inside her mind that made her want to cry. But the tears that had been threatening earlier didn’t come.
He said he loved her and yet he chose to misconstrue her actions. He told her she meant the world to him, but he refused to listen, letting jealousy rule him rather than trust and what was truly in her heart.
If she’d broken her vow not to contact Michael, it had been for kind and honest reasons.
If she’d seemed to waver, she had done so out of regret over hurting someone she’d once loved rather than a lack of commitment to Adam.
But he had no faith in her honesty, and no matter what she did in the future, there would always be a lingering sense of doubt that haunted him, that tortured and tormented them both.
No matter her love, she knew she couldn’t live with his suspicion and disbelief. She couldn’t bear the knowledge that he didn’t love her enough to trust.
Raising her eyes, she studied his face. Her dear friend, the man she’d known since girlhood, her lover and husband.
So familiar.
So handsome.
So beloved.
Then she took a breath and did what she knew she must. “I’m leaving.”
“Going to your room, you mean.”
She shook her head and met his rich brown gaze. “No, I’m leaving Gresham Park. I’m leaving you.”
CHAPTER 26
Adam stared, a mix of shock, panic and pain tightening around his ribs like iron bands. “The hell you are! You’re not going anywhere, and you’re certainly not running off with Hargreaves!”
She gave him a cold stare. “I didn’t say anything about Michael. I said I’m leaving. I’m going home.”
“This is your home,” he told her in a fierce voice.
“No, I don’t think it is,” she said in a doleful voice. “Not anymore.”
“Don’t be ridiculous.” He slashed a dismissive hand through the air. “You can’t leave. I won’t let you.”
She turned sad eyes upon him. “Shall you not? And how do you propose to stop me?”
“Oh, I’ll find a way.”
“Perhaps,” she replied, with a deadly calm that he found more disturbing than tears or anger would have achieved. “I suppose you could lock me up here at Gresham Park. Chain me in my room and put bars on the windows, as though I were some kind of prisoner. I suppose it might serve for a time, but not indefinitely. After a while, I believe someone would notice. My brothers, for instance.”
He scowled.
“No, Adam,” she continued in that calm voice that sent a shiver down his spine. “You cannot keep me here, not if I no longer wish to remain.”
And as he thought about it, he realized she was right. He couldn’t hold her against her will, not unless he did something cruel, something that might make her hate him—or worse that might break her spirit. If he did such a thing, he would be no better than his father. Nor would he ever be able to live with himself again.
His heart constricted in his chest, threatening to burst from the pressure, blood thundering between his temples as he fought the surge of agony that rose within him.
He wanted to rage, but he didn’t.
He wanted to drag her into his arms and never let her go, wanted to put up those bars and secure those locks so she could never escape.
But I can’t, he realized. If she wanted to leave him, there was little he could do to prevent it.
“Where shall you go?” he asked, choking out the question.
Please God, don’t let her say she’s going to Hargreaves. That I could not, would not, be able to bear.
Wicked Delights Of A Bridal Bed Page 29