Then silence. No more screaming. Nor shouting. Or vile curses. And, somehow, that was worst of all.
Georgina’s fingers sought and found the edge of the doorjamb to keep herself from collapsing. Her heart climbed into her throat and threatened to strangle her.
Georgina didn’t know how long she stood there but, as the seconds ticked by, her shame grew and grew. What manner of coward was she that she should leave Adam to face her father’s cruelty? How could she have done that, when he’d sacrificed his own freedom for her safety?
She threw the door open so hard it slammed against the wall.
Two pairs of angry eyes swiveled in her direction. Jamie had a riding crop poised mid-strike over Adam’s naked chest.
“Stop,” she cried. She grabbed Jamie’s arm. “Please, you must stop.”
He shrugged her off.
Father spun around. “What’s this about, gel?” he barked.
“Please, I—” She glanced at Adam. Their gazes caught and held. “I must speak with you,” she said to her father. “Both of you.”
Jamie straightened. The riding crop dangled forgotten by his side.
Her eyes slid closed for a moment as she sent her thanks up to a God she didn’t believe in. For now, Adam had been spared this abuse. “This can wait until we’re done here,” Jamie growled, a feral gleam of bloodlust in his eyes.
“No. It cannot,” Georgina protested. She gave her father a pointed look.
He shifted his mouth from side to side. “We’ll finish this up later, Mr. Markham.”
Georgina allowed herself to be dragged off, casting one last glance over her shoulder.
Emmet is amassing the power of the United Irishmen. His men have captured a British spy.
Signed,
A Loyal British Subject
Chapter 3
When Adam was a small boy, he and his brother Nick had been as mischievous as any other young boy in England. They’d had a very stern tutor and, one time, he and Nick had carefully dug up earthworms from the lush soil and placed them in the man’s gloves. As heir to their father’s earldom, his older brother had escaped punishment. Adam hadn’t been as fortunate.
For his troubles, the nasty tutor had locked Adam away in his armoire. Even as a man of now eight and twenty, he’d sometimes awake from his sleep, gasping for breath as he recalled the terror. The impenetrable abyss, the quiet hum of silence. He’d pounded away at the makeshift coffin, screaming until his voice had failed him.
His mother had been the one to find him. The tutor had been sacked on the spot but the horror of that moment would forever linger.
Tied up as he was now, unable to help Georgina, Adam found himself plagued by the same sense of helplessness that he’d suffered because of his tutor’s abuse.
It had been clear she was lying. Fox’s partner, known to Adam only as Hunter, had clearly realized that—Adam had seen the flash of understanding in his eyes. He couldn’t stop flagellating himself with the image of what they would do to her. All because she’d protected him.
Why would she forego her own safety for his welfare? His torture was inevitable. All she’d done was bought him a momentary reprieve. She must have known that, yet she’d still shielded him with her body, as a kind of sacrifice.
Here he was; a faithful member of The Brethren of the Lords, a group sworn to protect and defend the Crown, needing the protection of a slip of a girl.
The memory of her anchored to Fox’s side rocked through his mind and he wrenched at his bonds in vain. With a ragged cry, he lay back against the mattress. Sweat trickled from his brow into his eyes, stinging mercilessly. He ignored it, thinking of her. He’d go mad if he imagined them with their hands on her, so he allowed himself to unearth the other thought he’d buried.
She had kissed him.
He recoiled at the betrayal of Grace and yet…the taste of Georgina lingered. As much as he railed at himself for his fickle desires, he hungered for this capable maid.
She was nothing like the women he usually desired. Adam had always preferred fair women with long limbs and fiery red tresses, prideful.
Yet Georgina had drawn him in. With her well-flared hips and generous breasts, she was curved in all the places a woman should be. There was a sultry, seductive quality to her pouty lips. When he should’ve been thinking about Grace and his freedom, those goddamn lips would enter his imaginings. He’d envision her using her mouth for all kinds of forbidden pleasures.
Adam turned his head and stared at the small window in the corner.
He was a bastard and deserved every last bit of torture doled by Fox and Hunter.
*
Georgina’s mind worked furiously as her father steered her downstairs with a firm grip around her wrist.
He’d always delighted in hurting her. Georgina glared at him but he remained oblivious to her abhorrence.
When she’d turned eight and ten, he’d begun presenting her to his social circle and the beatings had stopped. He’d had grand hopes of her making a profitable arrangement with a wealthy merchant. Father had always been obscenely wealthy, but it had never been enough. He seemed to relish material things, status, and power a good deal more than he’d ever cared for any living creature—her included. She didn’t care. It didn’t matter.
Georgina hated that she still couldn’t lie to herself after all this time.
In the two years Father had presented her to possible suitors, it had become obvious that even his wealth was not enough to entice the most eligible gentlemen. So the beatings had resumed and she’d faded into the background.
Jamie looked at her. The flecks of gold in his pale blue eyes sparkled with fury. “What could merit this insolence?”
She swallowed, refusing to answer him.
When they reached the kitchen, Father shoved her into a chair. He folded his arms. “Well come on then, I don’t have all day.”
“I agree to your request.” In her lap, she crossed her fingers. “You are correct, Father. It is likely Mr. Markham will simply turn over the information you seek.”
Father tapped his chin. “Why are you so suddenly willing to help?”
“It is conditional,” Georgina lied. “I ask that when I find the names of those in his organization, you set him free. I’ll not be responsible for another man’s death.”
Silence fell as her father appeared to consider her offer. “Hmm.”
She waited, unfurling her fingers which she’d unknowingly clenched into tight fists at her side.
“I don’t trust her,” Jamie snarled. “She’s protecting him.” He turned to Georgina and stuck a finger in her direction. “You’re falling in love with him!”
No! Georgina gripped the edge of her seat, her nails dug into the hard wood. She shoved aside the panicky fear that twisted in her gut. She would never do anything so foolish as to fall in love with one of her father’s captives. She was merely caring for him as she had many others before him.
Oh God, why did that feel like a lie?
Jamie slammed his fist down on the table. “You do not even deny it.” His voice rumbled off the walls.