Aubrey withdrew a second note. “One more thing. Miss Wilcox asked that I give you this as well.”
Adam stared at it. Dread pooled in his gut. Why would Georgina give me a letter? His mouth went dry as a niggling fear crept in. “Her name is Mrs. Markham.”
“You know by now that you were not married. Not in the eyes of the Church of England,” Aubrey said with surprising gentleness.
Adam slammed his fist down. “We were married in the eyes of God, and that is all that matters.”
The Church of England could go hang! He tore open the envelope in a frenzied panic and scanned the succinct note.
Adam,
You have always done what is right. For England. For your family. For me. I cannot allow you to sacrifice any more of your happiness. Not out of any misplaced guilt or obligation. If I let you, you would spend the rest of your life married to me for all the wrong reasons.
This is for the best. For the both of us.
I will always love you.
Ever Yours,
Georgina
He fisted the note and it crumpled in his fingers. Oh God.
I have lost her. And with her goes my heart and soul.
His legs knocked against the edge of the chair and he sank into the leather folds. How could she believe this was for the best? How, when she was his every reason for living?
He hadn’t even told her how much he loved her, how she’d breathed happiness and life into his existence. How had he not realized until just now that he would endure a lifetime of captivity in a small, barren chamber so long as he had Georgina at his side. He buried his face in his hands.
Aubrey settled a hand on his shoulder. “She is a good woman.”
What a bloody fool I’ve been.
He’d never deserved her.
Adam picked his head up. “Where is she?”
He looked up when Aubrey remained stonily silent. Shoving the duke’s hand from his person, he snarled his next words, “You won’t tell me?”
The duke’s jaw set at a stony angle. “The Brethren is indebted to Miss Wilcox. It would be wrong of us to not honor her wishes.”
Adam leapt to his feet and snarled. “Her wishes? You speak about being indebted to Georgina. Where is The Brethren’s loyalty to me? After all I’ve suffered for this organization, you’d take my wife from me.”
“We didn’t take your wife from you,” Aubrey said. A muscle in the corner of his eye twitched indicating the powerful nobleman’s magnanimous attempt at patience was waning. “Your wife left of her own volition.”
The words hit Adam like a blow to the chest. He spun on his heel and stalked from the room. Even as he left the duke’s townhouse, Adam could admit he was responsible for his own misery. Not Hunter, Fox, Aubrey, or any other member of The Brethren could shoulder responsibility for Georgina leaving.
With his coldness and harsh disregard, Adam had driven her away and by God, he wanted her back.
And he would get her back.
Chapter 30
3 months later
Adam stared up at the fa?ade of Bristol Hospital. His cloak swirled about his feet as he climbed the steps. He knocked.
A short moment later, the door opened. A young man with an empty shirtsleeve pinned up greeted him with a frown on his hard lips.
Adam handed the man his card. “I’d like to speak with the lead nurse.”
The servant stared down at the card, his expression impassive. With a curt nod, the servant motioned him inside, and then went in search of the woman.
Adam clasped his arms behind his back and paced the pink marble foyer. His gaze searched the sterile space and guilt burned like acid in his throat. It had taken him but one meeting with Aubrey to deduce Georgina’s whereabouts. The duke hadn’t come out and directly given him her location but had alluded to it in such a way that made Adam believe that perhaps the Duke of Aubrey wasn’t the total, heartless bastard he’d taken him for.
“Sir?”
He froze mid-step.
The young man bowed. “If you’ll follow me?”
Adam walked beside the servant. They moved through the silent, cheerless halls. With each step he took, his anxiety doubled.
What if she isn’t here?
Or worse, what if she is here and turns me away?
They paused at a dark paneled door. The servant motioned him inside.
A plump, matronly woman of non-descript years stood in the middle of the room, hands clasped in front of her rounded belly. She dismissed the servant with a slight nod. All the while her attention remained focused on Adam. “I am Nurse Catherine. You requested an audience with me, Mr. Markham?”
Adam rocked on the balls of his feet. He glanced around the room and searched for the right words. He expected after the three days it had taken him to travel to Bristol Hospital, he should have found some words, any words that would be adequate for Georgina. Then, what could one say or do after all the heartache he’d caused his wife.
“Mr. Markham?” she prodded.
He coughed into his hand, humbled to admit to this stranger that he’d come to find his wife…who’d left him. “Forgive me. Do you employ a woman by the name of Georgina Mar—Wilcox?”
The faintest tick appeared on the woman’s right eyelid and he suspected if his role with The Brethren hadn’t required his strictest attention to detail, he might have not detected the telltale gesture.
But he did.
And he knew with a certainty he’d wager his very life on that Georgina was here.
“It is my understanding she might be here,” he pressed.
Nurse Catherine arched a single brow. “So, you are looking for your wife Mr. Markham.”
His back stiffened at the condescension in the older woman’s tone, but he did not respond to it. She couldn’t possibly loathe him any more than he loathed himself.
“And you believe she is here,” she went on.
“I do.” He knew she was here.
The nurse’s hand fluttered about the base of her severe chignon. “Forgive me, sir, this is a most unusual meeting. I don’t know a woman by that name.”
“Oh?” he drawled.
The corner of her eye twitched again.
Yes. Georgina was here. He’d rather maintain a semblance of gentlemanliness and not storm Nurse Catherine’s halls in search of his wife.
Her lips compressed into a tight line. “What do you want, sir?” Impatience danced in her eyes.
Adam held his palms up. “I love my wife. I need to see her. I need to know if she is here, and that she is safe.”
Nurse Catherine’s hands tightened, rustling the fabric of her stark, white dress. “May I speak plainly, sir?”
He inclined his head.
“If your wife is here, and I’m not saying she is, it would indicate that she ran away from you. What would make me trust that your intentions are driven out of love and a sense of concern for her well-being and not out of a desire to bring her back home where you can continue to hurt her?”