Dark Deceptions: A Regency and Medieval Collection of Dark Romances(7)

She studied Adam. In her breast, guilt warred with fear. He was in love. Her eyes wandered to the now-closed leather folio. Correction, he was in love with a stunning lady.

Georgina touched a curl and brushed it behind her ear.

He didn’t deserve to be a prisoner in this vile place.

“Your expression is pained.”

Georgina jumped at Mr. Markham’s softly spoken words.

“And you always do that. Flinch as if you’ve been struck.”

That was, of course, because she had been. On more occasions than she could count.

“Mr. Markham…”

“We’ve known each other for what? A month? You keep me company nearly every day. I think we can dispense with formalities.” His lips turned up in a sardonic grin.

“Formalities?”

“My name is Adam,” he clarified.

“Georgina.”

“Georgina,” he teased in an almost seductive murmur.

Her skin warmed at the sound of her name on his lips. It was as though the one word utterance tumbled off his tongue like a lover’s caress. She brushed her foolish longings aside. She’d not survived these many years by being foolish. “I mean, you should call me Georgina.”

“Will you tell me about your family?”

She hesitated. His questions were dangerous. Nay, all questions were dangerous. If he discovered the truth… Her eyes wandered to a point beyond his shoulder as she imagined a very different world than the one she’d been born to.

“My mother was a maid. She was beautiful.”

Well, the latter part was true. At least, that’s what her father had told her of the woman who’d died giving birth to her. She often wondered if that was why he hated her. If he blamed her for her mother’s death?

“She would sing to me. I would sit at her feet each night and she’d brush the tangles from my hair.” Oh, how much more beautiful this image was than the horrid truth.

“What of your father?”

She closed her eyes and summoned an idea of the father she’d always dreamed of. “He loved to tell stories. Mother and I would sit beside him and he’d tell great tales.” She paused. It was far harder to craft even false memories for the monster who’d sired her. A ruthless merchant who’d harbored a bitter animosity for everything English, including his own daughter.

“Your tones are very cultured for a maid’s daughter.”

Georgina stiffened.

“Forgive me. I didn’t mean to offend you,” he said.

His words danced too close to the truth. The Crown had known what they were doing when they trained this man to do its work.

“What happened to them?”

God, he was tenacious. Despite knowing exactly whom he meant, she asked, “To whom?”

“Your parents.”

She looked out the window and shifted, her lies piling onto the already heavy guilt she carried. “They died.” She directed her curt response to the gardens below.

“How did they—”

Georgina interrupted him before she had to add to her burden with further fabrications about her imaginary family. She spun around. “Why don’t you tell me about your family?”

She expected him to go silent as he so often did when she asked him probing questions she didn’t deserve an answer to.

“My father died when I was young. He suffered an apoplexy.”

The anguish on his face squeezed her heart. It called her back to the seat beside him. “I’m so sorry.” She sank into the chair.

Adam glanced down at his hands. “It was a long time ago.”

“That doesn’t make it less painful.” Desperate to drive back the sad lines at the corners of his lips, Georgina asked, “Do you have any siblings?”

He nodded. “Two brothers.”

A wave of wistfulness overtook her. “I would have traded my left hand for a brother or sister.”

Adam chuckled. “Yes, sometimes I am lucky. It would depend on which given day you ask me.”

“What are they like?”

His brow wrinkled. “Well, Nick is the eldest. He’s four years older than I am and always assumed responsibility for us. My younger brother, Anthony, could drive a saint to drink. But they are a good, loving family.” His throat bobbed up and down, and she had to look away again.

“And what of the woman?” Her cheeks blazed at the boldness of such a question.

He reached for his glass of water and took a long swallow. “I can’t speak of her.”

“Because she was your love?” She curled her fingers into the sides of the chair as she waited in hopeful anticipation of his answer.

“Because she is the only woman I’ll ever love and it is a disservice to her memory to speak of her.”

Pain knifed at her heart. What she wouldn’t give to have a man speak with that kind of passion about her. The alternative; that his words resonated because they’d been spoken by this enigmatic man, were too terrifying for her to seriously consider. She shook her head, ridding herself of the foolish notion.

“Have you ever been in love?”

She started at his question. “Never.” As much as she longed for an honorable suitor, Georgina didn’t think she’d ever find a man who would love and care for her. She’d long ago ceased to believe that she’d find a way out of this hell. “If I marry, it will be for security and stability. Never love.”