Dark Deceptions: A Regency and Medieval Collection of Dark Romances

Roses filled her full cheeks, the crimson stain matching the color of her sinfully perfect, plump lips. It would appear Fox and Hunter were no more than a distant memory—for both of them. Oh, the traitorous bastards lingered; Adam suspected they always would. But, for him, the nightmares came hardly at all.

The same could not be said for his wife. There were times Adam awakened in a cold sweat, only to realize it was Georgina gripped by an unshakeable terror. He would take her in his arms, willing her back to him, guiding her with the soothing strength of his voice.

Tony drew to a stop and bowed, murmuring something to Georgina. She spun around. Her gaze alighted on him, her eyes sparkling like a million stars on a cloudless night.

She hurried over to him. “Adam!” She hesitated then dipped into a formal curtsy.

He bowed. “Mrs. Markham.”

“Tony was just helping me refine the steps of the quadrille,” she explained.

“I think you have well-mastered it, wife.” Nor was that a platitude; Georgina moved as gracefully as if she’d done it her entire life. The dance instructor they’d hired had marveled at his student’s innate ability.

Georgina had modestly brushed off the man’s compliments, but there was no denying she possessed a natural grace and elegance on the dance floor.

Tony sauntered up to them. “Your wife could have given that old instructor lessons,” he said with a wink.

She blushed prettily and gave her head a shake. “My head is going to explode from all your compliments.”

Tony smiled in response. “Your wife picked up Latin, Italian, and French in almost three months’ time. She’s as skilled a dancer as any I’ve seen.” He shook his head. “It’s hard to believe with all her talent, the one skill she doesn’t possess is a singing voice.”

Adam started. “What…?” Georgina’s voice could shame a choir of angels.

Brown, panicky eyes met his, and Adam realized she didn’t want Tony to know about her voice. His brow furrowed. In fact, come to think on it, he’d spent so many of his days making passionate love to Georgina and squiring her about London, it had escaped his notice until now that she’d not sung since they’d been reunited.

She had her lower lip between her teeth, worrying the flesh. “I’d imagine there isn’t a thing Georgina isn’t accomplished at,” Adam said instead. Her shoulders seemed to lift on a relieved exhale. The glowing smile was back in place. He held his hand out. “Will you waltz with me?”

Her gasp blended with Tony’s guffaw of amusement. “If Mother finds out you’ve taught Georgina the waltz, her head will spin in circles.”

Adam’s lips quirked. “When did you start to worry about what Mother thinks?”

Tony inclined his head in acknowledgement. “Touché, Brother.”

Adam returned his attention to Georgina. He held his hand out. “Mrs. Markham?”

She gave her head a frantic shake. “Adam, we can’t!” she said in a scandalized whisper. “Your brother—”

“Shant say a word,” Tony promised solemnly, crossing an X over his heart.

“See?” Adam murmured.

And, to the strings of an imagined orchestra, he began to twirl her about the dance floor. Her feet struggled to adjust to the unfamiliar movement. They’d not engaged in that particular dance since…since his captivity. Except then they’d had just the small four walls of his prison cell. Now they possessed the wide expanse of freedom provided by the long dance floor.

Georgina’s footsteps matched his in a perfect harmony. All the while, her lips moved as she counted a silent one-two-three rhythm. His heart swelled at the endearing gesture.

“What?” she asked. She stumbled a bit.

He caught her to his chest, righting her.

Tony’s laugh echoed off the ballroom windows.

They ignored him.

“You are beautiful, Georgina,” he said. And he meant it. There’d been a time, long, long ago, that he’d thought her plain and dull. How could that have ever been? She was more vibrant than any person he’d ever met—including Grace. “Are you ready for your introduction to Society?”

She snorted. “I think I’d rather face down a pack of hungry wolves.”

He angled her body close to his.

“Not appropriate, big brother. Not appropriate.” Tony guffawed from the sidelines of the dance floor.

Adam ignored him. “I’ll not let anyone hurt you, Georgina. I promise you that.”

She lowered her eyes and it struck him—why should she believe him? All Georgina had ever known was pain. Oddly, the thought did something more than enrage him. It made him want to fill her days with endless joy and wonder. He applied pressure to her waist. “Look at me,” he ordered.

Georgina glanced up.

“You do know that, don’t you? I will not tolerate anyone being cruel to you—”

She made a sound in her throat. “You cannot control the thoughts and actions of other people.” Her eyes fairly bled with hurt.

Her meaning couldn’t be clearer. A shiver wracked his frame. By God, he was free, and Fox and Hunter would forever be relegated to a distant memory. He would not let them dictate his actions for a moment longer.

Adam growled. “Can’t I?” He’d sworn he’d place himself between her and any and every danger. She was his and he’d not let anything happen to her. Not again. Not when she’d suffered so bloody much.

Her full lips tipped up in a sad little smile. “Oh, Adam, you truly believe that, don’t you?”

“With all my heart.” His gaze fell to her plump, red lips. An uncomfortable ache settled in his groin as he was seized by a sudden urge to kiss her. He snorted. Sudden urge. It was really rather something of a constant urge.

He glanced over at Tony and found the young blighter eying him with knowing amusement. All his earlier appreciation faded under the weight of wanting him gone.

Georgina stopped counting to say, “Stop glaring at your brother.”

Adam seized the opportunity to gather her closer to him.

“He’s making a nuisance of himself,” he growled. “He—”

“Has been a good brother and loyal friend to me,” she interjected, giving him an admonishing look. “Tony has accepted me when most people will not. Even the staff has not—”

Fury bubbled to the surface. “Have they given you a difficult time?” The mere thought of it made him want to storm through the house and summarily dismiss every blasted one of the servants.

Georgina shook her head a little too hastily. “Only at the onset. They’ve all warmed considerably.”

His wife was a miserable liar. He chose to let the matter rest…for now. He would speak with his staff later. When Georgina was not around. That would mean letting her out of his sight, and he did not intend to do that—especially in light of her upcoming entry into Society.

His musings were interrupted by the sudden appearance of his butler. He bore a silver tray with an envelope upon it.

Adam brought them to a slow halt. He released her and sketched a bow.

Georgina fell into a deep curtsy that would have done her dance instructor proud and took a step away from him.

“Can’t you see, Watson, my wife and I were in the midst of a very important dance?” Adam said teasingly.

The butler’s face may as well have been carved in stone. “I…”

Kathryn Le Veque, Christi Caldwell's books