He’d glowered at her with such dark annoyance that she’d fumbled with the keys, creating a discordant, grating noise. She’d closed her mouth, risen clumsily to her feet, and stormed from the parlor.
Georgina had long ago realized that she would not be able to win back her husband’s affections. Even if he forgave her, she would always be Fox’s daughter and that could not be undone.
Her heart tightened at the truth of her silent acknowledgement. Georgina shoved her sorrowful musings into a deep corner in her mind. She could not think about this. Not now. She needed to be prepared for her meeting with Jamie.
The minutes ticked by and her nerves stretched so thin she had to bite her lip to keep from throwing her head back and screaming. Nearly two hours later, Georgina began to suspect Jamie had no intention of coming. Nonetheless, she continued to wait. And wait. And wait.
Until there was no choice but to accept that Jamie wasn’t honoring the meeting. With a sigh, Georgina snatched the copy of Othello and carried it to the front counter.
The owner of the shop smiled at her, displaying an uneven row of yellowing teeth. “Very different than your unusual selection,” he observed.
She turned her money over to him and accepted her purchase. “I was feeling the need for a change.”
He scratched the top of his bald pate. “Isn’t the most happy of Shakespeare’s work.”
He had her there. But then the book fit her mood perfectly.
Georgina bid him good day and hurried off with her purchase under her arm. She stepped outside, squinting into the fading sunlight for a sign of her driver. Catching sight of him, she began walking forward.
“Good day, Georgina,” Jamie said, and moved directly into her path.
Her recently purchased book tumbled into a puddle of black and brown sludge. She gasped.
Jamie held his elbow out. “Come with me, Georgina.”
Georgina shook her head, fighting a burgeoning sense of panic. She couldn’t accompany him, not alone, and not in this very public fashion. The gossips would sharpen their teeth on such delicious fodder.
She took a step away from him.
“Don’t even think of it, my dear.” Jamie smiled through tightly clenched teeth.
For anyone passing by, they’d only see a compellingly handsome gentleman with an affable grin. Only Georgina had the experience to know that this smile preceded his most vicious attacks.
Memory of the duke’s admonition that she take Suzanne with her everywhere surfaced. Georgina swallowed back her growing apprehension. “I-I…”
He extended his elbow. A courteous offer from a gentleman assisting a lady across the street.
Georgina’s stomach curled into a tight ball of tension that made her mouth go dry. She was besieged by the ominous thought that if she joined Jamie, she would never return. The flecks of gold shooting fire in his pale blue eyes, the vein throbbing at his temple…all pointed to a palpable, dangerous fury.
“N-no. I have to—”
“If you care even a bit for your husband, I suggest you accompany me, Georgina.”
She placed her hand on his arm and allowed him to guide her across the street.
All the while, she sought out her driver. When she found him, any hope of salvation died a swift and painful death. The young man stood with his back to the street, engrossed in a conversation with a pretty maid.
Jamie rested his hand against the small of her back, applying subtle pressure. He led her to a black carriage. “Get in.”
Georgina bit the inside of her cheek and allowed him to assist her inside.
The door closed and the conveyance rattled off, carrying Georgina away from the bookshop. No one knew where she had gone. She’d left no note to indicate that she’d received a summons from Jamie. When she didn’t return that evening—and, casting a glance at Jamie from beneath hooded lids—it was a certainty that she wouldn’t return, no one would note her absence. Not her husband, nor her staff.
Suzanne!
She sent a silent prayer to a very busy God that her maid had discovered her absence. Why, even now the young woman might be alerting the duke—
“I’m disappointed in you, Georgina,” Jamie said, interrupting her spiraling thoughts. He leaned over and gripped her chin, forcing her closer so that his hot breath wafted over her skin.
She bit her lip to keep from crying out.
“Very disappointed,” he murmured. He relinquished her so suddenly she pitched backward, slamming her head into the wall of the carriage.
She curled her fingers into the fabric of her skirts as she sought to hide the terror growing in her breast. She didn’t speak, knowing Jamie was toying with her like the cat who’d trapped the mouse. No, she wouldn’t give in to that fear. It would only heighten the sick pleasure he took in torturing her.
“Do you know why I’m disappointed?”
She wet her lips. “No.”
Georgina had a sinking feeling she knew exactly what had pushed Jamie to the brink of madness. She prayed she was wrong but knew in her heart that he’d discovered her deception. There was no other accounting for the about-face from their last encounter. It was why he hadn’t contacted her over the past ten days. Why he’d instructed her to leave Suzanne behind.
She unfurled her fingers. With infinite slowness, she inched her hand along the edge of the seat.
Jamie grabbed her before she’d even grasped the handle. He squeezed her wrist.
A hiss of pain escaped her as tears flooded her eyes.
“Lying bitch,” he snarled.
“Jamie,” she implored.
He backhanded her across the face. A loud thrumming resonated in her ears.
She gave her head a clearing shake. “Please.”
Don’t hurt me. Let me go. Tell my husband I love him.
Jamie dusted his hands, as if by touching her he had forever sullied his person. He reached for the curtain and directed his attention outside, seeming to study the passing scenery. He spoke in a chillingly, cheerful voice. “Do you know that I insisted you were loyal? I went against your father’s better judgment. I attested to your honor.”
“I am honorable.” She cradled her throbbing cheek within her hand. It was true. She just happened to be loyal to those other than Jamie and the Irish Republicanism.
Jamie’s nostrils flared. The curtain fluttered back into place. “Do you take me for an idiot?” he exploded.
“I—” Her protestations were rewarded with another cruel slap. This time to the opposite cheek.
“Enough. Not another word until we reach our destination.”
She wanted to ask where they were going, but Jamie’s muscled biceps rippled through the fabric of his coat, and his countenance shone with barely suppressed rage. She’d find out nothing else from him. All she would do was invite another assault.