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 delighted 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 fa?ade 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.