Georgina’s face flashed behind his eyes. He sucked in a breath. The thought of betraying her memory by taking some nameless woman into his bed sickened him. “I don’t need a mistress.”
A small smile tilted one corner of Nick’s lips. “I wasn’t referring to you taking a mistress. I was referring to you finding something else to do with your time.” He glanced at the empty whiskey bottle on the table. “That is, something other than drinking and gaming.” Disapproval underlined his words.
He swiped a hand over his eyes. “I don’t need to be saved, Nick,” he growled, hating the lie that pounded at his breast. He did need saving, but it was not the kind his brother could help with. Adam had failed Georgina and nothing could make it right.
“I can help you, Adam.”
A denial sprung to his lips but he couldn’t force the words out. Adam blamed his blurred vision on the alcohol he’d consumed. “I missed you, Nick.”
And just like that long ago day of their childhood when Adam had been freed from the armoire, Nick folded him in his arms. “I’m not going to let anything happen to you. You’re safe.”
Adam trembled. It was like the faint rumblings of a distant thunderstorm that grew, and grew, until it opened up into a fantastic display that cracked the sky and shook the ground. He sobbed. Tears poured from him like a deluge.
“G-god, I-I missed you,” he choked out between the great, gasping gulps.
Nick just held him and allowed him to cry.
Adam cried for the loss of the simple, uncomplicated love he’d known with Grace. He cried for the time he would never be able to recapture. He cried for the abuse he’d suffered at Fox and Hunter’s hands.
And he cried for Georgina. He cried until his body ached. Until there was nothing left but a shell of the boy who’d been locked away in an armoire.
Nick ushered him over to the leather sofa and helped him down. Then, as if he were a valet, and not the powerful Earl of Whitehaven, he proceeded to tug Adam’s boots free.
“We’ll sort this out, little brother. I promise.” Nick turned to leave.
He couldn’t be alone. “Please.” He held a hand out. “Don’t.
His brother returned to his side. “I’ll stay with you.”
Adam closed his eyes. “There was a woman.” He yawned.
The leather wingback chair opposite Adam groaned in protest, indicating that Nick had taken a seat. “Oh?”
“Her name was Georgina.”
Emmet is concerned by the apparent leak of information. The persons suspected of the leak are known as The Brethren of the Lords—a group of English nobles who are acting as spies for the Crown. A plan is in place to determine the identity of other members of The Brethren.
Signed,
A Loyal British Subject
Chapter 9
A dull pounding filled Adam’s ears. He squinted into the bright sunlight and glared up at the towering fa?ade of the imposing white structure. When he’d awakened several hours ago, he’d convinced himself he’d imagined the emotional exchange with his brother, the haunting memories of Georgina, and the promise to join Nick at Middlesex Hospital where the earl served on the Board of Directors.
Adam couldn’t think of a place he wanted to be less.
Fox and Hunter’s cruel laughter echoed off the walls of Adam’s brain and he flinched.
That wasn’t altogether true. There were places far worse than this dreary institution.
“This is your idea of a diversion?” Adam mumbled.
He groaned at his brother’s booming laugh. Nick thumped him on the back. “It is an improvement from the company you find in a bottle of spirits.” There was a hint of reproach in those words.
Adam peered at Nick from the corner of his eye, heat making his cravat incredibly tight. He resisted the urge to tug at it, unwilling to let Nick know how his admonition had shamed him.
The truth that Adam kept from him—the tale of his captivity and the countless rounds of torture he’d endured—were not grounds for Adam’s dependence on spirits. His stomach tightened. He hated that he had lost so much of his self-control. After months of indulging, he had to accept that the intoxicating pull of brandy was not strong enough to dull the pain that haunted him. It was the type of agony that couldn’t be healed with a soothing balm or tonic.
He curled his hands into tight fists at his side. And all this because of the two bastards who’d taken him prisoner. If he found them, he would take great delight in—
“Adam?” Nick interrupted.
He started. “Fine,” he answered the unspoken question. He gave his head a shake. “Let’s get on with it,” he snapped, and started up the steps.
Nearly twenty minutes later, Nick had gone off to his meeting and Adam remained rooted to the entrance hall of Middlesex Hospital. He shifted his weight from side to side, unable to stave off the surging sense of awkwardness. What had possessed him to allow Nick to drag him here? The last thing the men in this hospital needed was a visit from a former spy and current reprobate brother to the Earl of Whitehaven. Feeling foolish that he’d allowed Nick to drag him along, Adam spun on his heel and hurried to take his leave. He had nearly reached the front door when an older, graying nurse appeared before him, cutting off his path to freedom.
“Mr. Markham, might I show you around?”
Bloody wonderful.
“Yes,” he growled.
If the nurse detected the spark of impatience in his laconic response, she gave no outward indication. He followed her down the long corridor, the echo of their footsteps sounding off the wall.
He noted how she continued to steal surreptitious glances from the corner of her eye at him. He may as well have been a two-headed demon for the way the woman eyed him.
Adam’s jaw set stonily. At one time, he could have charmed the heart of the coldest dowager. Fox and Hunter had destroyed his ease around other people. Now whenever he moved around strangers, it felt more like visiting a menagerie of exotic animals.
“The men will be so very grateful for your visit.”
He rather doubted it. He didn’t offer much in the way of company. In fact, they’d probably prefer empty silence to anything he had to say.
They entered a large room with several rows of neat, white hospital beds. Adam started. He’d expected a quiet, sterile space, not this bright cheery room with pictures adorning the walls. At the tables beside each man’s bed was a small vase of flowers. The winter sun glinted through the windows, wreathing the room in an ethereal glow.
His gaze followed one of the sun’s rays and he froze, suspended in a world where dream met reality.
Her back was to him, but he’d recognize that untamable mane of brown curls in a crowded ballroom.
His heart pounded hard and fast within his chest.
Georgina.
She poured a glass of water and handed it to a graying man.
“Mr. Markham?” the nurse at his side prodded.
He shook his head. “Georgina!” he called.
Her body stiffened.
The nurse gasped. “I’m sorry, sir. This is most improper. Why don’t we return to the front hall?”
Like hell.
Adam started toward Georgina. He’d found her at last—the proverbial needle in a haystack—and he did not intend to lose her now.