Dark Deceptions: A Regency and Medieval Collection of Dark Romances

Her brother-in-law, the Earl of Whitehaven, frowned, his familiar emerald gaze going to the door behind her. “I’m looking for my brother.”

So much for pleasantries. She brushed her warm palms along her silken skirts. “I haven’t seen him since we arrived.”

Suspicion darkened his eyes to a dark jade. “What were you doing in our host’s library?”

Georgina gave her curls a little toss. “That is none of your business, my lord.”

His mouth hung open. Apparently, he didn’t expect that meek, biddable Georgina would ever defy his orders. Well, good. The earl could go hang along with everyone else who’d treated her worse than a common street whore. He snapped his jaw closed and took a step toward her.

Georgina held her ground. She’d had enough of men using their strength to bend her to their will.

The earl pointed a finger at her. “I don’t know what you did to hurt my brother, but he’s begun drinking again. By God, you’ll make it right.”

Pain and regret clogged her throat. She’d never meant to hurt Adam, yet her lie of omission had turned him from a rational, caring man to a cold, heartless stranger dependent on a bottle.

Her brother-in-law pounced on her guilty silence. “Have you taken a lover?”

“No!” Georgina gasped, pressing a palm to her heated cheek. She could never, ever think of lying with another man. Not after the magic she’d known in Adam’s skilled arms.

The earl’s lip curled. He leaned down so close she could see the pores of his skin. “I suggest you go find your husband. Now. And, you should know, I don’t believe you. Whoever he is, end it. Or I will destroy you.” With that dark promise, he spun on his heel and left.

Georgina stared after him. With all those intent on destroying her, she really didn’t have much of a chance at survival.

Her shoulders drooped in defeat and she set out to find her husband.





Chapter 21





Adam stared out across the ballroom floor. Dancers twirled and swirled in rapid circles down jaunty lines until his head spun with dizziness.

Or mayhap it was the alcohol. He took another swallow of champagne. His gaze landed on a young lady with a crop of dark curls and his heart lifted.

Until she turned and he realized it wasn’t his wife.

And then he realized he was searching for his wife.

He took another drink and found his glass empty.

The raucous laughter and twittering giggles of eager young debutantes made him want to gnash his teeth, clamp his hands over his ears and drown out the repellent din. With his world dashed to crumbling ruins, it seemed unfathomable that anyone should find amusement in anything.

Earlier that day, when he’d confronted Georgina with the file given him by Bennett, a part deep inside Adam had clung to the fragile thread of hope that it had all been a great big lie perpetuated by The Brethren.

Until she’d uttered that two-word confirmation about her father, he’d believed in her. He’d imagined the conversation playing out so very different. He would have presented her the information, asked her for the truth. She would have been shocked and hurt that he could ever think a traitor’s blood flowed through her veins. He would fall to his knees, beg her forgiveness, and they would carry on as they’d been before.

How utterly na?ve he’d been. A bloody fool was more like it.

An elegant woman moved into his line of vision. Her flaxen hair caught his eye, glinting like spun-gold in the glow of the candles.

Like a deer caught in a snare, Grace Helling froze. Her gaze flitted around the room until she found Adam. Her lips turned up in a tremulous smile. He ripped his eyes away.

While he’d been captive, this woman had married another member of The Brethren. Her laugh, husky and sweet, reached his ears even through the loud hum of conversations. Adam was besieged by the sting of regret and anger. While he’d tied himself to his captor’s daughter, Grace had found herself in a perfectly happy, uncomplicated union.

And he wanted that. Not with Grace, but with an undeserving, lying Georgina.

Adam cursed. The graying matron beside him gasped and snatching her skirts away, walking off in a flurry.

He was making a proper ass of himself. The morning papers would quite gleefully report on the scene made by Mr. and Mrs. Markham, but he couldn’t drum up the smallest vestige of concern. The sting of Georgina’s betrayal ate at his thoughts. At any moment, The Brethren could appear with a determination of her fate. As much as he wanted to punish her, as much as he wanted her to hurt as he was hurting, the thought of her life being snuffed out as easily as the flame of a candle threatened to destroy him.

Adam needed to spend less time wallowing in his own misery and more time keeping a close eye on his wife—Fox’s daughter.

A servant appeared, and he handed his glass off to the young man, waving off a filled flute. Walking the perimeter of the ballroom, he searched the crowd, doing a rapid scan for the voluptuous beauty who’d broken his heart. It took him only moments to realize she was suspiciously missing. With a silent curse, Adam headed for his host’s alcoves.

When he turned up empty from his search, he moved outside to the empty balcony. The crisp, cool air filled his senses, pushing back the liquored haze he’d put himself in. His eyes struggled to adjust to the thick, starless night.

Then he saw her.

His breath caught. She stood there all tall, lithe elegance, her beauty even greater than he’d remembered. Her lips were turned up in a sorry rendition of a smile.

He only managed one word. “Grace.”

If he and Grace were discovered, the scandal would be great—for his entire family. The last thing he could do after all the misery he’d caused was create further heartache. There was also Georgina to consider. It shouldn’t have mattered if his wife discovered him with Grace, but—damn him for having a bloody conscience—he cared. He made to leave.

“Don’t go!” Grace cried out. “Please.”

It was that last pathetic word that halted him mid-stride.

He turned. She held a hand up, outstretched to him as if she’d wrapped a string around him to draw him to her.

And perhaps she had, because—against his better judgment—Adam moved forward, toward the woman who’d once claimed his heart.

He froze in front of her, acutely aware that she was only a few inches shorter than his six foot two.

She cocked her head. “I’ve missed you, Adam.”

Her betrayal should not have matter any longer, and yet it did. It served as a reminder that the women who had claimed to love him were nothing more than self-serving creatures who only thought of their own happiness. He twisted his lips in an attempted smile. “Not enough to wait for me.”

She flinched and a single tear streaked down her cheek. “I thought you were dead. They told me you were dead.”

Adam arched a brow. “Oh? Who are they?”

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