Romancing the Rogue (90 page)

The United Irishmen have been stalled by talks of peace between France and Britain. Now Fox and Hunter alternate their time between interrogating Mr. Markham and searching for centers of Irish support.

Signed,

A Loyal British Subject

They were married two days later.

For all his brother’s protestations, he’d still agreed to procure a special license from the Archbishop of Canterbury allowing the banns to be waived, even if it was, as Adam suspected, to avoid public notice.

Georgina stood across from him, attired in a pale yellow gown. In spite of the dark glower Nick directed her way, an ethereal smile graced her bow-shaped lips. With the flecks of gold dancing in her eyes, she had the look of a fey fairy creature. In all the time he’d known Georgina, he’d seen her smile, laugh, but never had he seen this unabashed joy.

The vicar turned a page in his book, though he did not even glance down at it. “I require and charge you both, as ye will answer at the dreadful day of judgment when the secrets of all hearts shall be disclosed, that if either of you know any impediment, why ye may not be lawfully joined together in Matrimony, ye do now confess it. For be ye well assured, that so many as are coupled together otherwise than God’s Word doth allow are not joined together by God; neither is their Matrimony lawful.”

Adam held his breath, half-expecting a barrage of protestations from Nick. They didn’t come. With a smile, he glanced down at Georgina. His gut clenched.

Her cheeks had gone a sickly ashen gray, her eyes bore a tragic glimmer. Then she blinked, and it was gone.

Her smile was firmly back in place, but the skin at the corners of her lips was stretched tight. He gave his head a clearing shake. Anyone’s happiness would be marred with Nick glaring holes of disapproval at their back.

The vicar cleared his throat, and Adam yanked his gaze away from his bride. “Wilt thou have this Woman to thy wedded Wife, to live together after God’s ordinance in the holy estate of Matrimony? Wilt thou love her, comfort her, honor, and keep her in sickness and in health; and, forsaking all other, keep thee only unto her, so long as ye both shall live?”

Love her. Comfort her. Keep her in sickness and in health.

Georgina worried her lower lip between her teeth, and it struck him like a bolt of lightning…she thought herself unworthy. She didn’t believe herself deserving of his vows.

Oh, Georgina, my heart.

“I will,” he said, willing her to hear the promise in those two words.

The vicar turned to Georgina. She balanced on the tiptoes of her yellow satin slippers, like a bird poised to take flight. For the span of a single moment, he thought she might turn and flee. He sucked in a ragged breath as he faced the realization
—
he wasn’t marrying her out of any sense of obligation. He needed her just as much as she needed him. Mayhap more. She’d sustained him at his darkest time and even now, when the nightmares came, it was Georgina’s face that called him back to the living and kept him breathing.

Breaking with custom, he reached for her gloved hand. The vicar’s shocked gasp blended with Mother’s. He ignored them. His touch seemed to infuse courage into Georgina. Her spine stiffened. The tension in her mouth eased, and her lips parted. A gentle sigh escaped her.

And the ceremony continued. When it came time for Georgina to recite her vows, she looked up at him. Everyone and everything else fell away
—
Nick’s heated anger, Tony’s grin of amusement, Mother’s quiet concern. The vicar’s words faded to a droning murmur.

She would be his wife. Prior to this moment, he’d not really wrapped his brain around the reality of it. He’d only ever entertained the prospect of marriage to Grace Blakely. Yet when he’d learned of her betrayal, he’d crushed thoughts of the future.

But Georgina, he wanted her with a need that threatened to shatter him.

The ceremony ended as it had begun. With silence. Even Tony had become a reserved bundle of formality. There was no breakfast. No well wishes. And, God help him, just then he hated his family for not welcoming Georgina into their fold.

He took Georgina by the arm and steered her from the room, past the unsmiling faces. She let out a startled squeak, but he didn’t stop. He’d not allow them to mar this day. Georgina didn’t deserve a wedding that felt more like a funeral. They could all go hang.

“Adam,” Georgina murmured. She dug her heels in.

He didn’t stop.

“Adam!”

Adam finally stopped in the foyer. Winningham, the family butler, stood with his fingers poised on the front door.

Georgina took his face between her hands, forcing him to look at her. “You cannot leave like this. They love you. Please, speak to them.”

He spoke through clenched teeth. “I’ve nothing to say to any of them.” He’d not tell her that for the past three days he’d done his damnedest to make Nick see reason. He’d sung her praises and virtues to Mother, Tony, and Nick. In the end, it hadn’t mattered.

“Please,” she whispered forlornly.

His eyes slid closed. Christ. When she looked at him with those soulful brown eyes, he could not deny her the Queen’s jewels, if she desired them. He tried one more time. “I do not want to leave you. I—”

She pressed her gloved fingers to his lips. Even with the thin white layer of fabric between them, her skin nearly singed him. Passion roared to life. The last thing he wanted to do was speak to his brother. “Go,” she urged. “I’ll be fine.” Her lips turned in a crooked smile. “I’ve encountered far worse treatment than your family’s disapproval.”

Her reminder didn’t make it better. In fact, it made him want to hunt down his elusive captors and kill them with his bare hands. The thought of Georgina suffering clawed at his insides.

“Go.” She gave him a gentle shove.

Adam claimed her lips in a swift kiss. “Okay, I shall, but only for you. Otherwise they could’ve all go rot with their opinions.”

She made a small sound of disapproval. “Don’t say that. They love you and care for you. Now, go to them.”

Adam captured her hands in his. He raised first one then the other set of knuckles to his lips. Without another word, he turned on his heel and headed for Nick’s office. It was as he’d said to Georgina
—
his brother’s approval didn’t matter. But he would do this. For her.

~~~~

Georgina stared after him, feeling as lonely as an angel who’d been cast out of the gates of heaven.

“Hullo there, sister.”

She spun on her heel. Adam’s youngest brother lounged against a marble pillar, arms folded across his chest. His lips turned up in a roguish grin.

“H-h-ello.” Her insides shriveled with shame at the humiliating stutter. Adam and his entire family were the epitome of all that was graceful, elegant, and urbane. She, on the other hand was…just Georgina.

He shoved away from the pillar and closed the distance between them. “You got him to speak with Nick. That was no easy feat.”

“How did you know?”

Another rakish grin. “I’m a younger brother. I make it a point to know these things.”

Georgina smiled weakly at him.

“He’s really not a bad chap, you know.”

The earl might’ve been a loyal, loving brother, but he was just as arrogant and snobbish as the rest of the
ton
so she chose to neither agree nor disagree.

“He’s not, you know,” Nick defended, correctly gauging her silence. “He’s not as stodgy as he might seem to you. You know, one of those priggish, stuffy noblemen.”

Georgina hadn’t seen anything to indicate otherwise.

He carried on. “He loves us. Oh, he’s overbearing and quite annoying most times. But when Adam was gone…” Tony’s green eyes grew shuttered. A solemnity replaced his veneer of brevity.

She needed to hear the rest. “When Adam was gone…?”

He gave his golden head a shake. “I thought Nick would go mad. He would lock himself away in his office, reading each of Adam’s letters. He was convinced there was something amiss.” He slashed the air with his hand. “Said there was something not quite right with the notes, though he never said what exactly. He never wanted Mother or me to worry.” He leaned down, so close Georgina could count the odd smidgeon of freckles along the bridge of his nose. “So how did you meet my brother?”

At his blunt questioning, Georgina shifted. She didn’t know how Adam had explained his absence and had no intention of violating his confidence. Of a sudden, she became aware of the vulnerability of her situation. With Adam closeted away in his meeting, she was alone with Anthony Markham. She would venture neither the countess nor servants would notice if something were to happen to her.

She took a tentative step backward. Tony followed. She continued retreating until her back knocked against the front door, barring further movement.

“Hmm?” he asked.

Georgina had to remind herself that this was Adam’s brother. He wouldn’t try to beat the answers out of her. Still, after years of being kicked around, she’d learned that most men weren’t to be trusted. Tony might appear debonair and charming, but for all Georgina knew, he could’ve been one of the many men who brutalized helpless women.

She licked the seam of her lips. “I believe that is a question for your brother.”

His lips turned down with what Georgina suspected was annoyed disapproval. “What can you tell me?”

Georgina flattened her palms against the door. “Mr. Markham, I will not speak about Adam’s personal life to you, even though you are his brother. I’d imagine you wouldn’t want either of your brothers running around and pressing young woman for details about your relationship with them?”

He dropped his gaze, and his eyes narrowed on her trembling fingers. Then he reached for her hand.

Georgina bit her lip hard.

His gaze flew to her face and he took a hasty step ba ckward, nearly stumbling over himself in his haste to get away. His eyes had gone round in his face. “You think I would hurt you?”

Georgina tossed her head back and forth with such alacrity that her simple chignon came loose, displacing a mass of curls. She shoved them behind her ears. “No,” she lied.

“Then why are you shaking?”

Nervous laughter spilled from her like bubbling champagne. “Are you not violating some rules of propriety with your questioning, sir?”

He folded his arms across his chest. “I’m no simpleton. It hasn’t escaped my notice that you’ve not answered my earlier question. Do you believe I would hurt you?”

Apparently, she still hadn’t mastered the art of lying.

“I didn’t mean to frighten you,” he said quietly.

“You didn’t frighten me,” she said, though the assurance tumbled from her lips a little too quickly.

Tony’s brow scrunched up in what appeared to be deep contemplation. Several minutes passed before he again spoke. “I’d imagine Adam handled those responsible for your fears.”

In spite of his youth, Tony had quite aptly determined that there were certain individuals to blame for her skittishness. But no, Adam had not punished Father or Jamie for the pain and hurt they’d inflicted. Nor did she want him to. Georgina was content with her father and Jamie being consigned to whatever hell they’d scurried off to.

Tony held his elbow out. “Would you join me in the parlor while you wait for Adam?”

Georgina hesitated, but then placed her fingers on his coat sleeve. She needed all the friends she could get.

~~~~

Adam stood at the doorway, staring at Nick. Seated behind Father’s great mahogany desk, scribbling away in some ledger, he looked more like an earl than the brother who’d wrought havoc on the same household throughout their boyhood.

Nick dipped his pen into the crystal inkwell.

“Are you going to ignore me for the rest of our lives?” Adam quipped.

Nick paused, pen frozen above the paper. The vein pulsing at his temple and the black ink making a splotch on the desktop were the only real indications that his brother was a hair’s breadth from losing control of his temper.

He threw the pen down. “Oh? I thought you’d said all there was to be said.”

Adam winced. For all his anger with Nick’s treatment of Georgina, he’d never wanted to hurt him. He loved him and, as much as he was loath to admit it, Nick’s approval meant a great deal to him. He could not be happy if his wife and any member of his family were at odds. “I’m sorry if I hurt you,” he said quietly.

Nick shoved back his seat. It scraped a grating path along the hardwood floor. “To which hurt do you refer? My broken nose? The embarrassing scene at the hospital? Your total disregard for our family?”

Adam dragged a hand through his hair. “Yes. I’m sorry for all of it—”

“Then you shouldn’t have married her!” Nick exploded. He cursed. “Christ, what possessed you to—”

Adam cut his brother off, not allowing him to say something he would regret and something Adam couldn’t forgive. “I am not sorry for marrying Georgina. And any time you disparage her, you widen the wedge between us.”

Nick’s lips tightened. “Then it would appear we are at an impasse.”

A sharp bite of regret lanced through him. He’d spent months as Fox and Hunter’s captive, longing for his family’s embrace. This frigid, unyielding tension between them hit Adam like a punch to the stomach. He forced himself to nod. “Very well.” He turned on his heel.

Nick cursed. “Would you rather I didn’t care about you? That I didn’t worry after your well-being? If that is the case then many felicitations on your nuptials.”

Adam stared blankly at the ivory plastered walls. He’d endured hell at Fox and Hunter’s hands. Considering all they’d suffered, he and Georgina were deserving of whatever joy they could grab.

“I wish…” The words died on Adam’s tongue. What did he wish? That he’d never signed on as a member of The Brethren? Then he would’ve been living a carefree life, cavorting around town with his family’s approval. He would never have known the cruel tortured exacted on his mind and body…
nor the bitter hurt of losing Grace.

But then there would be no Georgina, and he couldn’t fathom a life without her in it.

His brother rested a hand on his shoulder.

Adam stiffened.

“What do you wish?” Nick encouraged, his tone devoid of all the acrimony of these past days.

Adam swallowed past a ball of regret. “I wish you would be kind to her. She is a good woman.”

I wish I could tell you how she saved me
.

Nick squeezed his shoulder awkwardly, in a manner more befitting two strangers. His hand fell back to his side. “I will be kind to her, and I’ll encourage mother to be more…
welcoming.” The swift surge of relief died at Nick’s next words. “But I need to say this. I don’t trust her, Adam, and I fear that in marrying her, you’ve done something you will only look back on with regret.”

A chill stole along Adam’s spine at Nick’s prophetic words. He shook his head. No, he had a lifetime of regrets, but marrying Georgina would never fall into those ranks.

“Adam?”

“Thank you,” he said. “Thank you for being willing to try. I know you’ll find her to be good and kind.”

Nick inclined his head. “I certainly hope so, for your sake.”

Hardly congratulatory words
, Adam thought wryly.

He started to turn when Nick held out his hand.

Adam stared down at his brother’s peace offering then placed his hand in Nick’s.

“Congratulations, little brother.” Nick’s voice broke ever so slightly. He cleared his throat in an obvious attempt to cover his show of emotion.

“Thank you,” Adam said, his words gruff to his own ears.

Nick thumped him on the back one more time. “Now go. I’d imagine you have better things to do on your wedding day than stand around talking to me.”

Adam chuckled, appreciating Nick’s willingness to try to restore levity. After the events of these past days, and the hurtful barbs hurled by the both of them, their relationship would require more delicate mending. But Nick’s efforts were certainly a start.

He exited his brother’s office and started toward the foyer.

The doddering butler
—
who was a good many years older than his late father
—
blocked his way. “If I may wish you much joy, sir?”

Adam inclined his head. By nature of his tenure with the family, and having known Adam since he’d been born, Winningham was more of a close family member. “Thank you, Winningham. Your words mean a great deal.” And they did. Adam and Georgina had been remarkably lacking where well-wishes were concerned.

The normally staid butler then did something remarkably out of character with his cool reserve. He winked. “They’ll come around, sir. I’ve known each of them long enough to know that.” His face settled back into an implacable mask, and stiff formality was restored. “Mr. Anthony is coming around in the Blue Parlor at this very moment.”

Those words rejuvenated Adam’s spirit. He could always count on young, irascible Tony to throw his support behind him. With a jaunty step, Adam hurried toward the Blue Parlor. Even as he approached the doorway, Tony’s booming laugh blended with Georgina’s breathy giggle.

Adam’s steps faltered and his smile slipped as he caught sight of Georgina. His wife sat beside Tony on a too-small sofa, a leather folio open across her lap. She sat so close to Tony that the pale yellow fabric of her skirts had become crushed against his rakish brother’s tan breeches.

Vicious spears of resentment stabbed at his insides, and Adam was possessed by an animalistic urge to throw Georgina over his shoulder and carry her away from Tony. It was Adam’s first real taste of jealousy
—
and it had a bitter flavor.

He folded his arms across his chest, tapping his foot as he waited for them to note his appearance.

Adam might as well have been invisible.

Georgina brushed back a stray brown tendril and turned the page. Tony leaned down and whispered something close to her ear. She laughed, the sound as clear as crystal glasses clinking together.

His scoundrel brother joined in…
and then glanced down at Georgina; his gaze focused on the enormous spill of her lush bosom.

Adam narrowed his eyes, as he was besieged by the kind of madness that robbed a man of self-control and reason. Of course, Tony would never betray him. Except…the young rake continued to leer at the swell of her breasts…and the green-eyed monster within Adam roared to life. He’d seen enough. With a snarl, he stalked into the room.

Georgina and Tony’s heads jerked up. Guiltily?

Georgina jumped to her feet. The leather folio containing some of his earliest artwork fell to the floor, lying open on its spine. He paid it no heed.

“Hello, Ad—” A startled squeak escaped her when he took her by the hand and tugged her from the room.

Tony’s knowing laughter trailed in their wake.

She shot a glance over her shoulder then looked back at Adam with wide, blinking eyes. “Is everything all right?”

His attention snapped forward. “Fine, just fine,” he muttered.

“How—”

The fragile thread of control snapped. “Stop asking questions, Georgina.”

She fell silent.

He felt like a bastard who’d kicked a puppy but, goddamn it, he was too blinded by the gut-wrenching, twisting bite of jealousy to apologize. He could not rid his mind of the lecherous stare his brother had affixed to her breasts. By God, she belonged to him. He’d not tolerate her being ogled by any other man
—
including his own brother. When Adam had discovered through the scandal sheets that Grace had married, he’d felt hurt. Betrayed.

This
—
the mind-numbing loss of sanity he’d felt on seeing Georgina beside Tony
—
was something altogether different.

The butler held the door open, and Adam swept Georgina through it, down the steps, and into his black carriage. He didn’t wait for his driver to close the door, but saw to it himself. The carriage lurched into motion.

Georgina sat on the seat opposite him, chest moving up and down as she panted. He stared at the low line of her décolletage. There was surely no more magnificent bosom than Georgina’s. And those luscious pale moons of flesh were his. All his.

With a groan, he pulled her across his lap and explored her mouth with a hungering intensity. He slipped his tongue inside and stroked the tip of her tongue. She responded with a feverish wantonness that threatened to drive him wild.

Georgina pressed her breasts against his chest and wrapped her arms around him as if trying to climb into his skin.

He groaned in approval and hoisted her skirts above her thighs, guiding her so that she straddled him. He told himself she was an innocent, that he should show a modicum of constraint, but he’d denied himself this woman for too long. He could no sooner stop the flood of desire than he could stop the moon from rising in the sky.

Her thighs fell open. The heat of her moist center penetrated the thick fabric of his breeches. He wrenched his mouth away from hers. Shoving aside the mass of brown curls that had escaped her chignon, he paid homage to the soft skin of her neck.

Georgina arched her back on a breathless moan, opening herself to his exploration. He trailed his tongue, lower, lower, until he reached the edge of her bodice. With a single tug, the mounds spilled free, the glorious vision his, and only his, to see. The red tip of her nipple pebbled in the cool afternoon air. He took the tip between his thumb and forefinger, rolling it back and forth.

Georgina cried out and tangled her fingers in his hair. She shoved his head downward toward the eager flesh. He trailed a kiss around the peak in a ritual designed to torture.

“Oh Adam, please!” she begged.

Adam didn’t know if Georgina even knew what her body was crying out for. He did—and he had every intention of giving it to her before the night was out. Over and over again.

He paused, mouth poised over the straining peak of her generous breast. “You’re mine,” he rasped against the satiny flesh.

She nodded. “Yes!”

“Say it,” he ordered with a scratchy hoarseness. “Say you belong to me.”

“I belong to you. I’m yours. Only yours.”

Then he gave her what she craved. His mouth closed around the red bud. He drew it into his mouth, sucking deep.

Georgina dug her fingers into his scalp, her jagged nails biting hard enough to draw blood. “Don’t stop,” she pleaded on a breathy moan. “Please don’t stop.”

Adam didn’t. He continued his torturous exploration of first one breast then the other. Georgina cried out when he worked a hand up her skirts to find her center. She was dripping
—
hot, wet, and hungry for his touch.

He slipped his fingers into her undergarments and found the delicate nub hidden beneath her thatch. She clamped her legs tight around his fingers in a desperate attempt to keep him there and ground herself against him. “That’s it, love,” he whispered, encouraging her frenetic little movements.

There was an unrestrained fervor to her movements that served as a heady aphrodisiac. He continued to work her nub. Faster. Faster. All the while, he lavished his attention on her breast.

And then she was coming. In a violent explosion of mewling cries and panting moans. He toyed with her until he’d wrung every last drip of cum from her hot center.

She collapsed atop him. Her chest jerked up and down as she desperately tried to draw breath.

Adam stroked the sweaty brown curls that had fallen across her eye.

“How was that, love?” he asked.

A tiny little snort rustled the skin at his neck. He leaned back to study his wife.

He smiled. It would appear he’d pleasured his wife thoroughly enough to put her to sleep. Masculine pride made him grin. He dropped a kiss at the corner of her temple.

Georgina was working her way into his heart.

And he found he rather liked her there.