Regency 02 - Betrayal Read online

  The Duke of Corning strode forward and looked Adam up and down with a mocking half-smile on his face. “To what do we owe the pleasure of your presence, Mr. Prestwich?” he asked pleasantly. “Certainly you have completed your mission. My niece is returned to me, somewhat the worse for wear, but returned nonetheless. I can see no further reason for your presence in my home. I await an explanation.”

  Adam resisted the urge to spit in the bastard’s smug face. He mocked him back, his stormy eyes hard as granite. “If I recall correctly, this is Lady Rothsmere’s home, Corning. You are merely here on sufferance.”

  The unexpected jab hit Corning where he was most sensitive, his reliance on his niece’s money for his creature comforts. The duke reacted purely from anger. He punched his prisoner with enough force to snap Adam’s head back. The footmen had to tighten their hold on their captive to keep Adam from leaping on the man.

  The duke rubbed at his smarting hand and continued to stare at Adam with cold contempt and mockery. “What has the little bitch told you, Prestwich? That she is mistreated? That she is being beaten for no reason? Believe me, that little whore deserves every bit of punishment she receives.”

  Adam had never before seen red. He did now. The efforts of the footmen were in vain. Adam made them release their hold on him by the simple expedient of cracking their skulls together. They slumped at his feet and he stepped over them. He was on Corning before that man even realized what was happening.

  A second later, Adam was pulled off the duke by Greville and Lord Connor. Although, Adam reflected as he came out of his rage and beheld the bruised and bloody face of the duke, it may have been a bit longer than a second.

  “That was a very bad idea,” Connor muttered after Corning had been taken away by the butler and the duke’s valet and the two footmen had been removed as well. “I will have a hell of a time keeping you out chains for this, Adam.”

  Adam turned a look of surprise on Connor. “Why?”

  “Why? Have your wits gone begging? You just beat a duke, Adam. Attacked him in his own home. You won’t stand a chance if he wants to press charges over this, you know.”

  “He won’t,” Adam and Greville said at the same time. They looked at each other with lowered brows for a moment before returning their attention to the marquess.

  Greville explained. “The duke is very particular about appearances. He will not take Prestwich to court because of a broken nose. Steyne might, but I doubt that, too. Corning won’t. He will come up with some explanation for anyone who needs one and glare haughtily at those who don’t. Then he will seek to put Prestwich in his place in the only way he knows how: he will hire someone to kill him.”

  “That’s rather barbaric, don’t you think?” Adam asked dryly.

  Greville shrugged. “It may well be, but it’s also true.”

  Connor stared at both men intently. “What do you suggest we do, Greville?”

  “Why do you ask him?” Adam asked with a jerk of his head in Greville’s direction. “Don’t tell me you believe this nonsense about Corning’s trying to kill me?”

  “I didn’t say I believe it. However, out of the three of us, Greville knows Corning the best. And really, Adam, you should not be taking such a personal interest in Bri’s problems. You know you shouldn’t.”

  Greville looked from one man to the other, his curiosity evident in his dark eyes. “What’s this?”

  Adam ignored him. “I think you should mind your own affairs, Northwicke,” he said very softly. “I will do what I feel I must. And I will not let Carly’s existence stand in my way.”

  “Who is Carly?”

  Connor and Adam turned at the same time and favored Greville with the same look. It seemed to consist of surprise that he was even there mixed with astonishment that he would ask such a thing with a little bit of threat thrown in for good measure. Greville thought it was a perfectly reasonable question considering his cousin was also a critical part of the conversation. And so he told them.

  Adam, who had had his back partially to the earl, turned fully around and gave him a haughty look. “I don’t see how Carly concerns you no matter what other lady we happen to be discussing, Greville. Carly doesn’t matter, never has, never will.”

  “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.”

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  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.”

  L
ord 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.

  Bri was at the door and turning the handle before she had quite grasped the idea to do so. She pushed the door open and walked into the room, closing it behind her with a soft click.

  Lady Rothsmere approached the bed slowly, unsure what she would find and fearing it would be too much for her to handle. Her precious Adam was hurt and it was all her fault.

  She stood beside the bed, her hands clenched into fists at her sides. She bit her lip to hold back the sobs of rage and despair. Silent tears streaked down her pale cheeks.