Romancing the Rogue (101 page)

Georgina wished her orders from the duke had come another day.

She wished Jamie’s note had never arrived.

If they hadn’t, she would have remained ensconced in her chambers and wouldn’t have been on the main level of the house. If she hadn’t been on the main level of the house, she wouldn’t have heard the voices coming from her husband’s library.

The earl exclaimed, “You merely married Georgina because you were nursing a broken heart for Viscount Blakely’s daughter.”

Adam’s reply ripped through her. “That’s right. I’m bitter because I loved and lost Blakely’s daughter.”

Georgina stood, back pressed against the wall outside the library. She fisted a hand against her mouth, biting the top of her hand to keep from crying out as she listened to the very candid exchange between brothers and mother.

“Excellent!” the countess said. “I shall call for tea.”

The words jolted life into Georgina’s petrified legs, jerking her from the trance that had held her immobile. Nothing, however, could drive back the easy camaraderie between Adam and his family as he’d so casually spoken of his love for Grace. It shouldn’t have come as any great surprise that he still loved her. Georgina had watched him toil over a sketchpad, filling page after page with the woman’s haunting beauty.

What cleaved Georgina’s heart in two was the loathing Adam reserved for her. She could never win his heart. It had seemed like an impossibility before when she’d been Georgina the maid. Now…
nothing she could do or say would ever ease the repugnance her husband had shown since he’d learned the truth of her paternity. Choking on a sob, Georgina ran down the hall and all but collided with a servant.

“Mrs. Markham. I’m so very sorry,” he stammered.

She continued her flight to the foyer.

Watson appeared. “I need the carriage readied,” she ordered, giving him her destination.

He inclined his head and hurried to do her bidding.

Suzanne appeared, standing at her elbow. “Steady, Mrs. Markham,” she whispered in quiet, soothing tones.

Folding her arms under her breasts, Georgina hugged herself. When she’d gone downstairs to Adam’s office, she’d intended to apologize for striking him. And she’d wanted to see him one more time before she went off on her mission. She wanted possibly the last memory she would have of Adam to be warmer, something she could carry with her in lieu of courage. Her hopes had been dashed yet again—all she was left with were the hurtful, ugly words between brothers who’d seemed united in their disapproval of Georgina.

She wished Watson would return with the news that something was wrong with the conveyance. A broken axle, a missing wheel, a horse in need of a new hoof.

Whoever was in charge of granting Georgina wishes was remarkably poor at what they did, for he reappeared and held the door open.

Georgina gulped down a wave of fear and passed through the door and down to the carriage with Suzanne trailing behind her.

The moment they pulled away, Suzanne began to speak. “Do you remember your orders?”

Georgina nodded. “I committed them to memory.”

“Good,” Suzanne said. “You mustn’t be obvious in your defection. They will be suspicious. You must tread a fine line between wavering loyalty and anger for your husband. Anything else and they will know you are false.”

The woman continued spewing a sea of orders and instructions until Georgina’s head was swimming.

The carriage rocked to a halt.

“We’ve arrived.” Suzanne rapped the ceiling. The carriage door opened, and the tiger handed Georgina, and then Suzanne, down.

“I’m going to the bookshop. Why don’t you t-take some time to yourself.”

“Oh, I mustn’t,” Suzanne insisted, playing her part to perfection.

Georgina waved her hand. “Truly, I’ll be fine.”

Suzanne sank into a deep curtsy, her eyes wide with very believable, yet feigned, appreciation. “Very well. Thank you ever so much, Mrs. Markham!” She hurried off to go wherever her orders had indicated she should be.

Georgina peered down the street. First left. Then right. Drawing in a fortifying breath, she faced the door and entered Ye Olde Bookshop.

The wizened merchant appeared almost instantly. His eyes lit with recognition. Most assuredly due to the great amount she’d last spent in his establishment.

“Good day. How are you?”

Georgina pasted a smile to her face. “Very well,” Georgina lied.

“I’ve recently acquired new books on art.”

“Just splendid,” she forced out. Her life was in shambles and soon, most likely forfeit. The last thing she cared about was books.

He proceeded to carry on a conversation for one, his voice a droning buzz, so that all she wanted was to clamp her hand over her ears and demand he leave her to her misery. She followed him down the long aisle, coming to stop at a very familiar row of books.

This is where I last saw Jamie. Where I first met the duke.

She expected to feel the stirrings of fear and trepidation. Instead, she felt a peculiar nothingness. “Thank you,” she murmured and watched as the merchant hurried off.

Georgina stared at the vast stretch of volumes, the titles a blur of leather. How she longed for this mission to be over.

And then what? Nothing will have changed with Adam. You shall still be the traitorous daughter of the infamous Fox.

To give herself something to do, she touched book after book, counting them as she went.

One hundred and six. One hundred and seven. One hundred and…

“Hullo, Georgina.”

Eight.

Her finger froze on one hundred and nine, toying with the gold lettering. “Jamie.” She didn’t bother to look at him.

I lied
, her mind screeched.
I am afraid.

Jamie sidled up beside her. He clasped book one hundred and nine and plucked it from the shelf. She peeked at him out the corner of her eye. He leafed through the pages, skimming the words. “You came,” he said.

Suzanne’s reminder knocked around in her brain. “I wasn’t going to,” she lied. “I…I shouldn’t be here.” She turned on her heel as if to leave, and a large part of her prayed that he’d let her go and never bother her with his and Father’s contemptible efforts again.

Jamie placed himself in front of her, blocking her path. “Don’t go.” He took her hands in his.

Georgina’s insides tightened with revulsion. Remembering the day he’d forced his attentions on her, she had to fight the urge to throw off his touch. “I c-can’t d-do this, Jamie. He is my husband.”

He raised her gloved fingers to his lips then pulled back the thin mint green fabric and placed a lingering kiss on the inside of her wrist.

Bile climbed up her throat, and she had to swallow several times to keep from being sick at his feet.

I can’t do this. I can’t do this. I can’t do this.

He spoke, seeming wholly unaware of her repulsion. “But you are here, Georgie. You are here, because you know he loves another woman and is undeserving of you.”

She managed a jerky nod, praying he’d release her.

He tugged her glove all the way free and continued to hold onto her. He stroked a path over her palm with the pad of his thumb. “And you want to hurt him, don’t you?” Jamie didn’t allow her to respond, just lowered his head and kissed her.

Georgina gasped at the absolute shock of his assault, but he took her mouth falling open as assent. He raped her mouth, sullying her tongue with his assault. He cupped her buttocks in a hard, unrelenting grip and squeezed the soft flesh.

This time it couldn’t be helped
—
she gagged.

She jerked back, colliding with the shelving. A lone book tumbled to the floor, landing with an almost soundless thump.

Jamie’s pale blue eyes were glassy with desire.

“We can’t. Not…not here,” she managed, praying he believed that to be the true reason for her denial. She fought the urge to wipe her mouth, to scrub away the taste of him. “I don’t have much time.”

That seemed to sober him. He nodded. “We’re looking for names of those men and women assisting the Crown.”

“Women?” she squeaked.

Jamie patted her head as if she were a small girl. “Yes, my love. Men and women form part of this organization. We’ve already identified three members of the society. We need the others.”

“Will you hurt them?” she couldn’t keep from asking.

His lips twisted in a chilling rendition of a smile. “Do not worry about them.”

Georgina bit down hard on her lip and, fearing he could read the lies in her eyes, forced her gaze to the floor. “I found a list.” Not wishing to appear too obvious in her deception, she sought to cast doubt. “But it had nothing on it aside from several names. There was nothing else on it.”

Stop repeating yourself, Georgina.

A glimmer blazed to life in his eyes. “What were the names?”

She shook her head. “Surely this isn’t the information you seek.”

He took her hard by the shoulders, his fingers biting into the smooth flesh of her arms until tears stung her eyes. “Give me the bloody names, and I’ll determine if it is information useful to us.”

“Marcus, Roberts, and…” Her mind spun.

Think. Think, Georgina. What is the name? What is it?

“And?” Jamie insisted.

“Uh…
Mooring.”

Yes, it is Mooring.

Jamie grinned and, for a moment, looked like the same young boy who’d come to live with her and her family. When she’d learned he would be living with them, Georgina had twirled in circles with the excitement of having a brother. Until he slapped her. She’d been just seven and still remembered her fat, bloodied lip. She had stared back at him with fear before running off to hide. She’d been hiding ever since.

Jamie’s next words brought her back from the distant memory. “You have done well, my dear.”

“I can’t do any more, Jamie. This is the last time I can help you.”

He trailed the tip of one finger along her lower lip. “Do you know, Georgie? I don’t believe you.”

Terror zigzagged through her like a bolt of lightning. She opened her mouth to plead her innocence, but he tapped her lips to keep her silent. “I believe you want to help the Cause. I believe you want to punish your husband.”

She closed her eyes and prayed he would believe her lies. “I loved him so much. I gave up everything for him.”

“And he’s repaid you by fucking his former lover.”

Georgina gasped with pain at the image his words evoked.

“Will you continue to help us?”

She tamped down the agonizing regret threatening to shred her to pieces. “He is still my husband.” Her father was cruel, evil, and conniving but he was not a simpleton. He would be suspicious if he were to capitulate too easily.

“And I’m still your father.”

Odd, how for the first time in her life he was uttering those words as if they meant something.

Georgina hesitated and then gave a curt nod. “I will.”

He patted her cheek as if she were one of the queen’s terriers. “Good girl.”

Georgina couldn’t let him leave, not without finding out something, anything that might be of use to the duke. “Does it ever feel hopeless to you?”

Jamie raised a brow.

“The plan for Irish independence?” she said hurriedly.

“We’re not alone. There are those with great wealth and power who support the cause, Georgina.”

Her heart kicked up an exited rhythm, and she had to bite the inside of her cheek to keep from asking for names.

Her silence was rewarded.

“If you need to find me or are in need of support, Lord Ackerly can be trusted.”

Georgina blinked, certain her ears had deceived her. Excitement made her giddy. How easily he’d handed over a name! It gave her a heady sense of power.

He grabbed her, wrapping a vise-like grip around her wrist. “If you deceive us again, Georgina, there will be no forgiveness. Do you understand what I am saying to you?”

Moisture dampened her palms. She’d known the moment the duke had enlisted her help that what was really at stake was more than her happiness; it was her life. Her throat constricted, and she struggled to force any words out.

“Mrs. Markham?” Suzanne called from within the bookshop.

Georgina quelled a surge of relief and forced her eyes wide in feigned fear. “It’s my maid!” she gasped, her eyes darting around the aisle.

Jamie stiffened. He seemed to want to say more but must have feared the risk of discovery, for he slipped down the aisle and out of sight.

Georgina sagged against the shelving, pressing a hand against her galloping heart.

“Mrs. Markham?” Suzanne called again.

Georgina detected a thread of panic in the maid’s tone. She tried calling to Suzanne but couldn’t get the words out. Now that Jamie was gone, she was overwhelmed by a maelstrom of relief, fear, and anticipation. Her skin tingled until she wanted to scrape her fingernails along her flesh and drive the frayed nerves from her body.