Regency 02 - Betrayal (20 page)

“But she matters very much, Adam,” Connor
inserted firmly.

Adam released a sound of frustrated
annoyance. “Devil take it, why are we discussing this right now?
For all I know, Carly is dead by now and will cease to plague
me.”

Bri felt ashamed of her behavior. She had not
planned to attack anyone; she had definitely not meant to kiss
anyone. But she had done both, barely remembering the one and
thoroughly enjoying the other.

Damn him.

“My dear, it is surely not so bad as to
warrant such tears.”

Bri sniffed and looked up at Verena. She
sniffed again, blew her nose into the large gentleman’s
handkerchief she held, and gave a watery chuckle. “No, it’s not.
I’m just so ashamed of myself. And now I’ve gone and dragged you
into this and it’s not your problem.”

The marchioness favored her with a stern
look. “It most certainly is my problem now, for I make it so. And
Con will not allow them to treat you in such an infamous manner.
Neither will Adam.”

“Adam can go to the devil,” Bri muttered.

“I’ll not have you talking about him in that
way, Brianna Derring,” Verena replied with an edge in her voice.
“He is putting more on the line for you than you can ever
understand.”

Bri glanced at her friend in surprise and
annoyance. “When did you become his champion? I seem to recall him
treating you as little better than a servant despite your marriage
to his best friend.”

“That’s true. But things have changed and we
all need to forgive when the time comes. And sometimes even when it
doesn’t.”

Bri looked down at her tightly clenched
hands. Then she glanced at Brewster who still sat beside her.
“Mary, will you go get a tea tray, please.”

Brewster nodded and left the room.

Bri stared at her hands again while Verena
watched her friend. The countess looked terrible, Verena realized
suddenly. Her eyes were puffy from weeping and there were dark
circles under her eyes that suggested she had had little or
troubled sleep for several days at least. Her hands were twisting
the handkerchief she held beyond recognition. And she winced every
time she moved her arm a certain direction or shifted in her seat.
She wore dark blue, which was unusual since Bri tended to favor
bright, shocking colors. Even her hair appeared duller than
usual.

Her perusal was interrupted by the return of
the gentlemen. Connor and Lord Greville preceded Adam who sported a
split lip and a bruised jaw. The ladies started to their feet in
concern but the marquess stopped them with a raised hand.

“I have asked your maid to pack your trunks,
Bri. You are staying with Doll for a few days. Your uncle cares too
much for appearances to make a fuss about it. Or so I’m told.” He
quelled the protest that rose to her lips with a glance. “If it
will make you feel better, Verena needs you to be with her right
now. She is expecting, you see.”

Bri turned to her blushing friend, her look
of amazement transforming into excitement. “Indeed? Oh, how
wonderful!”

“Yes, well,” Verena murmured with an
embarrassed grin.

“And never have I beheld a more cranky woman
than Lady Connor when she is
enciente
,” Adam inserted with a
wide grin.

Verena scowled at him. “What would you know
about pregnant women, Mr. Prestwich?”

“Carly had one once,” he replied without
hesitation, a deep glare transforming his already harsh features
into something positively satanic.

“Who is Carly?” Bri asked with a confused
look. She looked at Greville.

“Don’t ask me,” he replied with a shrug. “I
have been trying to discover that for the better part of a quarter
hour.”

“Is Brewster ready yet?” Verena asked.

“Who is Brewster?” Adam asked.

“My maid,” Bri replied. “I imagine she will
be here momentarily. How did you convince her to obey?”

“Convince her?” Con asked, perplexed.

“Yes. She is hired by Corning, after
all.”

“She is?” said Adam. “Are you sure? She seems
completely devoted to you, my lady.”

“My lady?” Bri murmured with a half-smile.
“Why the formality, Mr. Prestwich?”

Adam’s face went blank. “Formality is
essential to my sanity,” he replied dryly before turning away and
exiting the room.

“Adam will tell you in his own time,” Verena
replied to the look of bewilderment on her friend’s face. “Let us
leave. I think I hear Brewster now.”

He hated it when Connor was right. And he
usually was, blast him. The marquess had finally managed to talk
some sense into Adam before leaving the room where he had been
taken by Corning. By the time they joined the ladies, Adam had
agreed to keep his distance from Lady Rothsmere.

He wanted to do anything but. Just
remembering the taste of her was enough to arouse him. Even four
days after the fact. Damn.

Adam sat at the piano in the music room at
Lockwood, tapping out a tuneless melody, while Morris poured him a
drink. The valet was mumbling something unintelligible and Adam
found he couldn’t concentrate on any of his current problems.

“What the devil are you grumbling about,
Morris?” he snapped irritably. “I can’t hear myself think with your
jabbering.”

The valet released a few louder grumbles and
directed them at his employer.

“You do, do you? Well, you can take your
opinion and go to the devil, Morris. I have no need of them.”

Morris rumbled something else, his own temper
rising.

“Stubble it. I’m not listening,” Adam
retorted petulantly.

Adam nearly jumped when Morris suddenly
shoved his grizzled head in front of him and let loose a series of
grunts that Adam had no trouble interpreting as some very colorful
expletives.

“I am not a child,” he said defensively,
sounding exactly like the very thing he protested being. He
modified his tone before continuing. “Morris, unless you wish to
find other employment, cease badgering me.”

To Adam’s amusement, the valet tossed his
hands in the air, made a rude gesture to his master, and walked to
the door.

“Morris, wait. If you want to go to Cornwall,
fine. But I am promising nothing, old man. Carly is Carly and
always will be. I don’t believe women can change despite everything
Miles says or you believe. But, we will go.” He sighed
expansively.

He really didn’t care what Morris thought.
Miles could harp at him for all he was worth and it still wouldn’t
matter. Adam would never change his mind about Carly. She was a
viper and a schemer and he had no use for her. He would go to
Cornwall for a time to appease his blasted servants and then he
would return to make sure Bri remained safe from her family.

He didn’t have much doubt on that score,
however. He knew Connor would protect her with his very life if the
need arose. And Verena was a veritable lioness when her loved ones
were threatened. Bri would be fine.

There was also the arrival of Denbigh to
Town. Connor had summoned the duke the day after Bri’s removal from
her uncle’s care. Connor had been worried over the possibility of
Adam’s being taken up for attacking the Duke of Corning and had
asked his father to lend his support should such an action come to
pass.

Adam seriously doubted it would. Corning and
his wife were so wrapped up in appearances that they had actually
hired Adam to find their niece rather than call in the
professionals of Bow Street. Adam grimaced in self-disgust as he
thought about how he had unwittingly helped add to Bri’s grief.

But had it really been so unwitting? She had
told him, after all, what she had been through at their hands. Good
Lord, she would have rather died than be returned to them. What a
blasted fool he was.

Adam rose to his feet to prepare for the
evening. He had agreed to attend a musicale that evening at Lady
Denbigh’s just across the square. The only reason he had agreed was
because Raven had actually been hired to perform. It was something
she had just recently started to do in order to more easily keep an
eye on Lady Rothsmere. Adam appreciated everything the woman had
done for him and wanted to show his support.

It had come to his attention that she had a
new protector. He had been surprised to discover it was Bri’s
cousin Greville. After some minor detective work, Adam had found
that the man had a small yearly income and he had trouble living
within his means. Adam meant to ask Raven about that tonight.

Electing to be unfashionable and walk, Adam
left the house. He made it about four strides when he was grabbed
and dragged into an alley.

Bri sat between her cousin and Verena. She
tried to concentrate on the music but her mind insisted on dwelling
on the absence of Adam Prestwich. He had promised to be there,
Verena had said. And he wasn’t. The music had started nearly two
hours ago and there was still no sign of him. And it was unlike
Adam to be late especially to a party being given by the woman who
was more a mother to him than his own had ever been.

Looking around again, She noticed her cousin
Viscount Breckon watching her with a predatory look that made her
shudder. Steyne was beside him with a smug look on his face. Bri
wondered what they were up to. They looked far too pleased with
themselves.

Why were they even there? She highly doubted
they had been invited. Breckon may have been since he was still
considered acceptable by even some of the highest sticklers, but
Steyne was barely acceptable anywhere.

Especially now. His penchant for rape had
somehow become the latest rumor. Apparently, he had had his way
with the daughter of a merchant who had no qualms about taking the
viscount to task for it. Steyne had become an anathema to the
ton
even though as a group, they openly despised those that
made their money through hard work rather than inheriting it or
marrying it. It was somewhat odd that they had chosen to side with
the merchant.

Something was very wrong. She knew deep down
that something serious had happened to cause such looks of
satisfaction.

She relaxed when she saw the Duke of Denbigh
himself approach the two men she had been studying and personally
escort them out. She turned her attention back to the beautiful
Miss Emerson.

The butler entered and approached Connor.
After a few whispered words, a look of alarm crossed the marquess’s
face and he stood abruptly and followed the man from the room.

Something told her it had something to do
with Adam. Bri muttered some excuse to Verena and Greville about
searching out the ladies’ withdrawing room. Then she hurried after
Connor.

Traversing the darkened hall, Bri tried to
keep Connor in her sight. She was unfamiliar with the layout of the
mansion but it was much like others in Town, she realized with
relief. She was surprised when Connor and the butler went up the
stairs to the third floor where the family’s private rooms
were.

They stopped before a door about halfway down
the long hall. Biggles, the butler, said something too low for Bri
to catch, the marquess nodded, and the butler turned the handle and
pushed the door open. Both men entered, leaving the door slightly
ajar.

The countess hurried to the door, holding her
Pomona green skirts well above her ankles. She peeked through the
crack in the door and listened. All she could see was Connor
standing with Biggles by the bed in the center of the room. She
couldn’t tell who was in the bed and the men’s voices were too low
for her to make out what was being said.

Connor turned and she beheld the grim
expression on his face. Her worry increased. What was
happening?

Biggles raised his voice enough that Bri
could hear. “Should I send for the doctor, my lord?”

“No,” Connor replied thoughtfully. “I will
tend him myself. I think I know who is responsible for this. I
don’t want anyone to hear of this, especially the countess. Who
found him?”

“It was Thomas, my lord, the knife boy. He
was running an errand for cook when he saw three men drag him into
the alley.”

Lord Connor nodded. “Have a word with the
boy. Emphasize the need for silence. I want Adam’s enemy to think
he is dead. It may be the only way to save his life.”

Bri stifled her gasp. Oh, God, no! Uncle set
those awful bullies of his on Adam and now he was barely alive. And
it was all her fault, too.

She was so distressed that she missed
Connor’s next words. She crept away from the door, her hand over
her mouth and tears coursing down her cheeks. She backed into a
shadowed alcove and sat down. Con and the butler soon left,
speaking lowly as they walked. They passed very close to her and
Bri heard what they were saying.

“Under no circumstances is Lady Rothsmere to
hear of this. I don’t want her to…” Connor’s voice trailed off as
the two men descended the stairs.

Bri stared at the now closed door for a full
minute. What if he died? It would be her fault. He had come to her
defense and this was how he was to be repaid.

She had been told about his attack on her
uncle. She had been shocked speechless that he would leap to her
defense. But Greville had assured her that it was indeed true and
that Adam had been marvelous.

And now he was dying. Or dead. Oh, what if he
was already dead? She would never be able to thank him for saving
her life. She would never be able to thank him for defending
her.

She would never be able to tell him how much
she loved him.

She loved him. With all her heart. Life
without him seemed dull and meaningless. Life without him would be
utterly pointless. She realized she had actually loved him for some
time. It had taken this horrible occurrence to make her mind form
her feelings into words. She loved him.

And he was hurt.