Chapter 27
Chapter Twenty-Seven
T wo days later, Rosaline put the final touches to her gown, dreading tonight’s soirée more than any other she could remember.
Why did Adam accept their invitation ?
Not only would she be forced to simper and preen at her aunt’s supper party, but she would be trapped in their house unable to escape, forced to endure their endless jibes at her appearance. It made her feel like a child again.
“You are vexed, I see,” came an amused voice from the doorway of the drawing room.
Rosaline turned and caught her breath at the sight of her husband.
He looked impossibly handsome in a strict black tailcoat, black waistcoat and stiff white cravat.
His hair was brushed away from his face, and his lopsided smile was infuriatingly alluring.
“Do you blame me?” she asked as he came to stand before her. “You are forcing me to socialize with the very worst people in this world. And for what? I do not understand why we cannot cry off tonight.”
Adam smirked, his eyes darkening as she looked up at him from beneath her eyelids, hoping that her attempt to seduce him might bear fruit. But Adam’s resolve remained in place.
“We can hardly avoid your family forever, Rosaline. And I will be with you. One remark out of place, and I shall put them in theirs, just as I always do.”
His hand rose to her face as he pushed a lock of hair behind her ear. The gesture was tender and set her heart beating like a drum.
“Very well,” she muttered. “But I wish we would not stay too long.”
“I promise,” he said, kissing her on the forehead as the butler announced that the carriage was ready.
Adam kept his stoic mask in place throughout the evening, feigning boredom and indifference when in reality his body was alert to any movement from the back of the house.
He wondered how Silas was getting on, walking about the room, observing the guests, looking as nonchalant as he was able.
Do not disappoint me, Silas. This could be our last chance.
He glanced across the space, taking in his hosts with a faint grimace.
The Claridge’s were in their element, despite their appearance being dramatically set apart from those around them.
Lord Claridge looked as though he had dressed deliberately to match his wife, a strange mix of colorful attire, made up of cheap silks, covering them both from head to toe.
Their home was vulgar, too—adorned with gaudy fripperies. It had the distinct feel of two people who lived above their station, squandering money on things they believed lent them an air of wealth, but in fact showed them up in terribly bad taste.
Adam sipped his drink, keeping a keen eye on Rosaline in case she might need his assistance. She was holding court, however, standing within a group of guests who were continually laughing at her dry wit.
He only realized he was smiling when she caught his eye and gave him a knowing look.
I never expected to admire my wife so much.
“Your Grace?”
Adam turned, finding a young footman standing behind him.
“Yes?”
“You have been requested in the study, Your Grace,” the man said, shifting his weight and looking rather fearful.
Adam frowned, glancing behind him at Claridge.
What the devil…?
And then realization dawned.
“Thank you. Lead the way,” he said, placing his drink on a side table and following the man from the room.
They reached the study in short order, not passing anyone on their way, and Adam was grateful for the deserted hallways of the house.
The footman preceded him into the room where Silas stood waiting for him, looking drab in his darkest clothing. Silas gave Adam a meaningful stare and nodded toward the footman.
Adam hastily plunged a hand into his pocket and took out a coin, handing it to the man.
“For your silence,” he muttered, and the footman withdrew. As the door clicked shut Adam speared Silas with a glare. “Can he be trusted?”
“They don’t pay ‘em what they ought, Your Grace. No loyalty in this household, believe me.”
Adam’s heart lurched as Silas held up a letter.
“Is that it?”
“I ain’t read it, Your Grace. I wasn’t sure if you’d wish me to.”
Adam moved swiftly to his side, keeping one eye on the door. Behind where Silas was standing, a bookshelf had been moved aside to reveal a recess in the wall where the strongbox had been placed.
Adam squinted at it, looking at Silas in astonishment, but the other man seemed entirely unabashed at his illegal undertakings.
Adam pulled out the letter with trembling fingers, his heart hammering in his chest as he unfolded the delicate paper.
I have the upper hand at last.
Rosaline was surprised to find herself enjoying the soirée. It was amazing what could be achieved when one ignored one’s family.
She had barely spoken to her aunt and uncle all night, and the event had been all the better for it. In a lull in proceedings, she left the group she had been speaking to in order to search for her husband.
But he was nowhere to be found.
“Looking for someone?”
Rosaline turned to find her uncle standing behind her, his gaze arrogant and sly.
“Certainly not you,” she remarked as softly as she could.
He scoffed. “Confident little thing since your marriage, aren’t you? But never forget where you came from, Rosaline.” His eyes ran over her unpleasantly. “You will always be a cursed, scarred orphan. You will never deserve the title of duchess, and everyone in society knows it.”
Rosaline swallowed around the sharp barb she wished to throw back.
Where is Adam when I need him?
There was something in her uncle’s bearing that put her on edge. It was the same look she had seen when he had spoken with Adam at the ball—as though he knew something but was not revealing what it was.
“Is that so?” she asked archly.
“It is. No one in this world will ever see you as more than that.”
“My husband sees me as ten times more than the woman you have just described,” she snapped back, injecting more confidence into her words than she felt.
Her uncle gave a disdainful laugh, stepping close to her.
“Your husband?” he asked, his eyes filled with pity. “The only reason you even have a husband is because I blackmailed him into it. It was a boon to engineer such a match, and to finally be rid of you.”
Rosaline’s stomach dropped at those words, the room going in and out of focus behind her uncle’s smug expression.
“Tell me, has the duke been asking you questions about me recently? Has he shown a special interest in my business decisions?”
Rosaline’s blood turned to ice in her veins as she thought of their conversation on the balcony a few days before.
“He married you out of necessity, Rosaline, and he used you to gather information that he needed about me.”
“You’re lying.”
“Oh my dear, it would be far less entertaining if I were,” he said lightly, and with that, he spun on his heel and turned away, going back to stand with his wife.
Rosaline could feel her breath coming more quickly, her pulse thundering in her ears.
Where is Adam? I must find him at once.
Adam stormed back toward the ballroom, trying his best to school his features into a neutral expression.
By God, the man planned this. He must have done.
As soon as he had opened the letter he had known that it was a duplicate. He would have known Henry’s sloppy, lopsided handwriting anywhere and the letter he had read was merely a copy of the original.
Adam had quit the study as quickly as he could, leaving Silas to secure the safe and get out of the house, but the fury that raged through him would not abate.
He walked back into the room just as Lord Claridge was on his way out and the man stopped, looking up at him with an expression of deep satisfaction on his face.
“Have you had a good tour around my property?” Claridge asked. “I do hope you found everything you were looking for.”
Adam clenched his jaw, his fingers curling into fists at his sides as he stared the man down, wondering if he could call him out here and now.
“You are a fool, Oldstone. You will never find the real letter. You are wasting your time.”
Claridge sipped the port from his glass, held loosely between his fingers.
“You have used your wife for nothing, it would seem,” he continued. “I am sure she will be most disappointed to learn she has been used as a pawn in your game.”
Adam stepped forward, glancing into the room to ensure that they were not being observed and used his height to loom over the man as Claridge shrank away from him.
“You are a worm, Claridge,” Adam growled, his voice reverberating through the space between them like thunder. “You will always be a worthless, revolting excuse for an earl, and the only credit you have to your name is a niece who has surpassed any expectation you ever had for her.”
Adam stepped closer, Claridge’s back almost pressed against the door frame as he used his bulk to box the man in.
“This is far from over. I will find a way to destroy you, once and for all, and when I do, you will wish you had never been born.”
There was a peal of laughter from within the room, and Adam swiftly stepped back, conscious that they were only feet away from whispers and rumors that could spring up at any moment.
Claridge slid away without a word, but the self-important look on his face still clawed at Adam’s insides as he considered what he would do next.
I will not allow this man to beat me, I will find that letter and then Rosaline and I will be free to live our lives as we choose.
Adam froze, the unexpected thought stopping him in his tracks.
When did this marriage of convenience begin to shape how I see my future?