After he’d been taken captive, Adam had believed he wouldn’t know peace until Fox and Hunter were dead by his hand. Staring down at Hunter as the blood seeped from his pale, lifeless body, Adam realized the stark truth—killing them wouldn’t bring him peace.
Only Georgina could do that.
The duke shouted something.
“What the hell took you so long?” Adam snapped.
“Markham,” Aubrey murmured.
Bennett strode through the room. “He’s dead,” he confirmed, jerking his head over to where Georgina’s father lay.
Adam’s heart spasmed. He loathed Fox for the hell he’d put him through but now, the horror of his captivity seemed secondary to the love he had for Georgina. Fox was still her father and this was still a loss for her.
He looked at her.
She’d fixed her wide-eyed stare on Hunter’s dead body and clasped a hand to her chest.
Adam frowned at the ashen hue of her skin and took a step toward her. “Georgina…”
She pulled her fingers back. She stared unblinking, at a thick, red stain on her fingers.
A loud humming filled his ears. “Georgina?” he repeated, his voice came as if down a long hall.
She held her bloody fingers toward him. Her beautiful, bow-shaped lips formed a small moue of surprise. “I…” Her eyes rolled back in her head and she collapsed.
Adam caught her to him. His heart slowed to a halt then picked up a pounding, hard rhythm as he lowered her to the floor. With shaking fingers, he explored the blood-soaked fabric, searching for a pulse.
No. No. No. No. No.
He struggled to breathe.
Ah, God, no. Please, I can’t…
He found her heartbeat; threadbare and slow but still beating. Adam yanked his cravat off and pressed it against the steady outpouring of blood, trying in vain to stem the flow.
There was so much of it.
“Help,” he cried out. “She needs a doctor.”
He swiped his bloodstained fingers over his face. He’d not survive this.
He pulled Georgina against him and rocked her back and forth. Tears blinded him. He blinked and forced the drops to fall, clearing his vision so he could see what his insecurities and foolishness had wrought. “Why?” he rasped against her temple. “Why would you place yourself in front of a bullet for me? Why, Georgina? Why?” Why, when I hurt and betrayed you? Why would you give your life for me? He dimly registered the commands barked out by Bennett, Archer, and Aubrey but couldn’t fight his way through the thick fog of confusion.
Archer clasped Adam’s shoulder. “We have to get her help.” He reached for Georgina.
Adam snarled at him. “Get the hell away from her.” Wisely, Archer fell back. Adam wouldn’t let anyone else touch her. Nobody.
Aubrey looked to Bennett and Archer. “See to this,” he said quietly and motioned to Georgina’s family. “As discreetly as possible.”
Adam rose, taking great pains not to jar Georgina. They moved through the warehouse, out the doors, and into Aubrey’s carriage. Georgina remained still. Her eyes were sunken against the porcelain white of her skin.
As the carriage rattled on, Adam raised Georgina’s fingers to the light. Blood marred the tips of her fingers and the underside of her nails. Nausea roiled in his gut.
He remembered back to his captivity when Georgina had cared for him; how the sight of blood had made her weak-kneed. His eyes slid closed. Until the day he died, he would forever remember the sight of her life-blood seeping onto the coach floor.
He growled. “Surely the driver can move faster.”
Aubrey gave the command and the carriage sprung into motion. Adam cradled Georgina to his body and prayed. He prayed to a God he didn’t even think he’d believe in anymore. But for Georgina, he’d trade his soul to the devil if it might save her.
It seemed ten lifetimes passed before the conveyance reached its destination. He dimly registered the door opening. Aubrey leapt from the carriage and reached up for Georgina’s prone form. Adam handed her over, but when his feet were on the ground, he swiftly reclaimed her and followed the duke up the steps to the white townhouse.
The front doors were thrown open before they’d reached the top step. “We need a doctor,” Aubrey instructed the stoic butler as they sailed through the entranceway. The aged servant gave no indication that there was anything untoward about bloodstained men carrying an unconscious woman into the duke’s home. “And then we need warm water and strips of cloth.”
The butler nodded and hurried off.
Adam followed Aubrey up the stairs and into an empty chamber. For the first time since he’d exited the carriage, Adam allowed himself to look down at Georgina. His heart fell.
She’s dead. Adam hung onto her limp frame.
“Hand her to me,” Aubrey said.
Adam’s chest seized and his legs crumpled beneath him. The other man rescued Georgina before Adam carried her to the floor with him. The duke laid her down on the floral coverlet.
“She’s dead,” Adam said, his voice hollow.
Aubrey shoved back the sticky, wet fabric of Georgina’s modest gown. He pressed his fingers to her chest. “She is alive,” he said quietly.
“But for how long?” Adam rasped.
Everything unfolded in a blurry haze. The doctor came and attended to Georgina. He shook his head and Adam tossed him physically from the room.
Another doctor came with the same grim pronouncement—Georgina had shed too much blood.
This time Aubrey ushered the man out before Adam got to the old doctor.
The third doctor came; a tall, young, non-descript fellow. He examined Georgina.
Adam sat at the edge of a chair beside her bed. “Can you save her?” he asked hoarsely.
The doctor studied the front of her shoulder. Then the back. “I’ll not lie to you. Her condition is dire,” he said bluntly. His mouth set in a firm line. “I’ll do everything I can to save her.”
For three days, the doctor did just that. When fever set in and Georgina’s body shook from chills he laid cold compresses on her wrists, her ankles, her brow. Through it all, Georgina writhed and screamed.
Then the nightmares came and Adam tortured himself with his wife’s plaintive whimpers. Her head tossed and turned as she battled the demons in her sleep. At those times, the only thing he could do was crawl into bed beside her and wrap his body around her until she eventually stilled.
He lay beside her, head propped up on his elbow, and simply studied her. Memories poured over him like a gentle rain.
“Are you Eve?”
She angled her head. “My name is Georgina.”