Regency 02 - Betrayal Page 18

  A family meeting was called. The only ones absent from the gathering were certain uncles, aunts, and cousins who knew nothing about the situation and honestly didn’t want to know. Even Dr. Steele had been called in, having known Adam nearly as long as the rest of the Denbigh’s.

  Everyone offered up their opinions and carefully considered everyone else’s before it was finally decided, a full three hours later, that the duke would be the best one to approach Adam and ask outright what was going on since he stood as a father figure to the baronet. He gravely agreed to do his best to sound Adam out on several issues, most of which he did not share with his family.

  That this was Verena’s suggestion gave that young lady a feeling of smugness that she didn’t hide very well. She remembered several conversations with Adam and even her husband where more was discovered with forthrightness than hedging around the real issue.

  The Duke of Denbigh found his might-as-well-be-adopted son sitting at the piano in the vast music room two days after the family meeting. The duchess and Miss Emerson were off somewhere on the estate and his daughters were with Lady Rothsmere and Verena in the nursery. Greville was visiting the doctor, with whom he had developed a rather unexpected friendship. Connor had gone with him.

  Denbigh entered the room silently and sat down to listen. Adam played with a feeling for the music that seemed to communicate his feelings more accurately than he could verbally. He played a somewhat sad melody written by someone unknown to the duke at this particular moment. It was sad and yet it wasn’t. It seemed rather…resolute, final…accepting.

  Adam stopped before he had finished it. His hands remained motionless on the ivory keys. Without turning he said, “Did you want to talk to me, sir?”

  Denbigh stood and approached. “I have been asked by my duchess as well as others to find out when you plan to marry that girl.”

  Adam looked up and regarded the duke with an amused smile. “I’m sorry for that.”

  Denbigh sat down on the bench beside him. “Well?” he asked as he started to pick out a tune on the keys.

  Adam laughed. “Well what?” he hedged.

  Denbigh smiled. “It really is none of my business, as I told your adopted family. But they do insist. How long have you played the piano?” he asked abruptly.

  “Forever,” the baronet replied laconically.

  “How the devil did you manage to hide such a talent from your family?”

  Adam smiled sardonically. “By family, I assume you are referring to yours.” He shrugged nonchalantly. “Con may know, I am unsure. Does it matter?”

  The duke ignored this to ask, “What were you playing when I walked in?”

  “It doesn’t actually have a title yet. It’s not even done,” Adam said with a rueful half-smile.

  Denbigh stared at him. “You composed that? You are full of secrets.”

  “Not anymore,” Adam answered mildly. “I believe you all know my best kept secrets now, sir. I have a title. I was married. I compose music when I need to escape. I play music when I need to think. Oh, and I have a child.” He paused a moment before continuing. “Which happened to be a better kept secret than any of the rest since I didn’t even know.”

  The duke chuckled and his hands stilled on the piano keys. “Yes, I know your secrets. Your daughter is a delight, by the way. She looks so much like you there is no doubt of her paternity.”

  “I know.”

  Denbigh studied Adam closely but the man’s expression was unreadable. “So, are you going to marry Bri?”

  The baronet laughed with self-deprecation. “I would like to, sir. More than anything, actually. But I doubt she’ll have me.”

  “She will. She’s just waiting for you to ask.” He paused and glanced away from Adam’s suddenly smiling face. He was a little unsure how to continue. Verena’s words leapt into his head and he decided to heed them. He simply pointed out an obvious fact. “You have changed, Adam.”

  The smile disappeared. “How so?”

  “I cannot recall a time when you were so thoughtful, so…unapproachable. Even when you were told of your family’s demise, you were still the same old cynical Adam Prestwich. You brushed through that as if it had never happened and other than a caustic remark about the dilapidated state of the house and grounds, you had nothing to say about it.” He looked over at his silent companion. “What has happened now?”

  Adam sighed. Bri was the only one who knew of his discussion with Carly, although it was obvious that Denbigh had determined that there had been some doubt about Callie’s paternity. He really didn’t want to discuss it.

  “Never mind, my boy. It was impertinent of me to ask.”

  “But you and everyone else are like to die of curiosity if I keep silent,” the baronet remarked with a flash of his old cynicism.

  Denbigh chuckled. “I will survive, Adam. Greville doesn’t want to know although he does worry for Bri’s sake and Connor is too conscious of his own secrets to probe where he is not wanted. The twins view you as another brother and my wife as another son. Needless to say, Bri is worried. Miss Emerson worries but assures us that you will come around. I can’t help but believe her since she seems to know you better than the rest of us. How she accomplished such a feat amazes me.”

  “The ladies are only interested in my intentions toward Bri,” Adam inserted with a slightly derogatory sound.

  “We’re all interested in that.”

  “I’m sure.”

  A silence fell between the gentlemen that was neither comfortable nor uncomfortable. It just was. It lasted for all of five minutes before Adam finally broke it.

  “I’m finally at peace. All this time, I blamed myself for my failed marriage and blamed women for my unhappiness. I have known very few women who have not proven to be scheming and manipulative. My own mother and sisters were of that cast.” He paused, considering. “I don’t deserve her, do I?”

  “Perhaps you should let her decide that, hmm?”

  “Perhaps,” Adam agreed reluctantly.

  “You don’t think you should?”

  “She has been through so much. I don’t want to add to her pain anymore than I already have.”

  Denbigh regarded him silently for a moment. “Remember when you met Verena. You had every reason to believe that she was one of those typical women for whom you have every aversion. You held to this opinion until she confessed to you about her rape. Yes, she told me of that,” he said in response to the surprised look on Adam’s face.

  “Where are you going with this, sir?”

  “My point, Adam, is this. You were the one who knew what had to be done to save her. Do not let Bri’s similar experience hold you back from making her happy.”

  The duke rose to his feet. “Think about that, lad.” And he left.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Dinner that night was not quite the ordeal that Adam would have expected. Everyone talked and laughed and fervently ignored Adam’s silence. They took turns drawing him out until he finally put his morose thoughts firmly in the back of his mind and concentrated on being a more congenial dinner companion.

  In the drawing room afterwards, he played for his guests, allowing himself to get lost in the music. He thought of all that had gone on in the past few months and wondered if it was a good idea to marry Bri. It wasn’t the thought of her rape and the fear of hurting her that actually held him back. It was something she had said to him nearly seven months ago. He had been unable to get it out of his mind ever since.

  She was so bright and cheerful now that he suspected it was all an act. What was she thinking at this very moment?

  Bri was actually pondering the sadness and melancholy that translated itself through his music. She didn’t yet know that Adam was the composer and she wondered what he was thinking as he played. His expression revealed nothing. She couldn’t see his eyes.

  Would he ask her to marry him? Sometimes she thought he might not in spite of everything. She loved him now more
than ever and was determined that they be together no matter what.

  The piece drew to a close and Adam sat very still at the piano. Everyone else sat very still as well.

  Then Denbigh, with a mischievous grin, asked, “What is that one called? I’m afraid I don’t recognize the composer.”

  Adam looked up and smiled but didn’t answer.

  The company dispersed soon after that and wandered to their beds. Adam paced his chamber, much to the disgust of Morris, still fully dressed and muttering to himself the whole time.

  He was fighting the urge to go and talk to Bri that very minute. He had come to the decision while he was playing earlier that he would ask for her hand and let her decide what was best. But he couldn’t go to her room now. It was well after midnight. She would be compromised.

  That thought made him stop in his tracks consideringly. Then he shook his head in disgust and continued pacing. He couldn’t possibly be so selfish as to force her hand. But perhaps he wouldn’t have to. He stopped again before he suddenly spun on his heel and walked out.

  The countess sat in bed as still as a statue. Her hair was down around her shoulders and she was in a crisp white nightdress with long sleeves. She had stopped wearing her sleeveless ones ever since that morning when she had seen the bruises left by Steyne.

  She shuddered at the memory. She was glad the viscount was firmly in her past although she was unsure if he had actually given her up or if he was merely planning something.

  And then there was Adam. Would he ask her soon? She prayed he would. She wanted to be with him more than anything.

  As if conjured by her thoughts, Adam appeared in the doorway and closed the door firmly but quietly behind him. She was suddenly glad that Brewster had taken to sleeping in the dressing room again.

  “Adam? What is it?” She rose from the bed and approached him cautiously.

  “I need to talk to you,” he said. He watched her warily, noting that she was in her undress. He hoped she would have the good sense to keep her distance. He suddenly wanted her with an intensity of feeling that he had not experienced in a very long time.

  “About what?” She halted a few feet away, all at once conscious of the fact that she was standing before him in her nightdress. She saw the heat in his eyes and felt a frisson of fear mixed with excitement course up her spine.

  Adam thought about all he wanted to tell her, all he felt and wanted in his life. She stood before him expectantly, holding her hands loosely clasped in front of her. He wanted to touch her, to hold her, but knew it would be unwise.

  She took the decision out of his hands. He looked down into bright green eyes when she laid her hand on his arm.

  “Tell me,” she whispered.

  He reached for her hand, twining his fingers with hers and slid his other arm around her waist, drawing her against him. She watched his face wordlessly. Then he leaned down and kissed her tenderly, lips slightly parted. She pressed her lips back to his and opened for him in an invitation too tempting to resist.

  She seemed to burn in his arms and it was only natural that he lift her and carry her to the bed. She held tightly to him when he tried to move away. His senses returned and he realized he couldn’t take her now. He sat down beside her, smoothed the hair back from her face and smiled before gently taking her hand.

  “I’ll not make love to you, Bri. Not now.”

  “Why not?” she asked breathlessly. He saw the bewildered hurt in her eyes and was startled to realize that she actually wanted to be with him.

  “Are you not afraid?” he asked with no small amount of curiosity and concern.

  She swallowed hard but did not look away. “Yes,” she answered honestly. “But you…you wouldn’t…you…”

  “I wouldn’t hurt you,” he said for her. “I wouldn’t, Bri.” His brow furrowed. “Well, I would try not to, anyway. But I actually came here to beg your forgiveness for putting you through so much hurt. I know saying I’m sorry isn’t enough and if I could change the past, I would. But I can’t so all I can do is apologize.”

  Bri hid her disappointment well. She leaned back slightly and tried to smile. She was afraid it appeared to be more than a little sad, however, when she replied. After taking a deep breath, she said, “Of course, I forgive you, although I really do not feel there is anything to forgive. I blamed you at first, it is true, but I have realized since then that you only did what you could at the time.” She shrugged and looked down at her hands where they lay, linked, in her lap. “In fact, if you hadn’t saved me when you did, I would have hanged as a common criminal. No matter what I’ve said to you in the past, I was at point non plus.

  “And,” she continued with barely a breath as she twisted her hands nervously in her lap, “I have decided that changing the past is not always a good idea. I would not change the past now since it has brought me you. If I had not run away, my family would never have hired you and I would never have met you. Or Connor or Doll. I have too many blessings as a result of my choices and I would not trade any of them. Not even to avoid the pain and heartache I’ve had to endure.”

  She looked up into his eyes then and determinedly shoved away the little voice that warned her to not utter the words that trembled on her lips. She knew deep down, she would regret it forever if she simply let him walk away with nothing more than her unwarranted forgiveness.

  “I owe you something for your help, Adam. I’ll do whatever you want.”

  Adam’s eyes grew wide in shock but then his lips twitched suspiciously. He was laughing at her! How humiliating! It was obvious to even the greenest of girls that while Adam Prestwich may care for her, it was apparent that he did not love her or even want her enough to make love to her. She let her chin drop in dejected misery.

  Adam smiled at the emotions that flitted chaotically across her lovely face. To think, he came here to offer her his heart and the propriety of a marriage bed and she seemed to be offering something quite different. He could not be mistaken in the invitation that had shown so briefly in her eyes.

  He tilted her chin up with thumb and forefinger and looked deep into her eyes. They were awash with tears of dejection and humiliation. “If you’re offering what I think you are, I have to decline,” he whispered sincerely. Before she could react, he continued to talk as his thumb lightly traced her lower lip, causing a visible tremor to snake through her body. “As much as it may kill me to do so, I want to wait until we are married. That is, if you have changed your mind,” he added sadly.

  “Changed my mind?” the countess asked faintly. He had said they would be married! He must love her!

  “You told me once that anything was better than spending your life with a man who had betrayed you. Do you still feel that way?”

  Bri started. He actually remembered something that she had said several months ago. Something she had said in anger and fear. And now he was throwing it back in her face. Well, not actually throwing, but placing in front of her, anyway.

  “Oh, I was so angry, Adam, when I said that. And at the time, I meant every word.” She smiled at him hesitantly. “I have not changed my mind about it, either,” she added honestly, because, in fact, she hadn’t. She still felt it would be hell to be with someone who had betrayed her.

  He reached out and stroked her cheek gently. “Then this is goodbye, is it not?” The softest of smiles touched his face and a look of intense sadness entered his pale eyes. He rose to his feet.

  Bri reached up and took his hand, gripping it tightly. “You didn’t let me finish,” she said quickly, fiercely.

  Adam sat again and squeezed her hand. “I apologize. Please finish.”

  “I would never spend my life with a man who betrayed me,” she said softly. She clutched tighter at his hand—as if that were possible. He could barely feel it for lack of circulation as it was. “You have never betrayed me, Adam,” she added emphatically. “You were always there for me, no matter what. If I could have let go of my stubborn pride enough to ask for
help, I could have avoided nearly all my troubles.”

  Adam stared at her. The truth of her words blazed in her emerald eyes and he knew she truly did not believe he betrayed her no matter what he thought of the situation. Adam felt a smile tugging at his lips, a smile of absolute joy. “I have forgotten to tell you something,” he said.

  “What is that?” Bri asked in bewilderment. It wasn’t exactly the reaction she had expected.

  Instead of saying what he wanted, Adam kissed her. He communicated all his love and emotions in this one kiss until he was sure she understood. He wasn’t disappointed. When he lifted his head, Bri was staring at him with those wonderful eyes of hers and she was crying.

  “You love me,” she whispered tremulously. “You actually love me.”

  “You will marry me, then, my love?”

  And the Countess of Rothsmere smiled brilliantly through her tears and threw herself into his arms again. “Oh, yes! Yes, Adam, please, I will marry you!”

  The End

  Jaimey Grant loves to hear from her readers. For questions, information on upcoming releases, or signed copies, you can contact her at jaimeygrant@yahoo.com.