Chapter Eighteen
The crowd surged around Adam like a living tide, every movement shifting him farther from her.
He craned his neck, his dark eyes darting over the sea of faces, hats, and bonnets.
“Charlene!” he called, his voice cutting through the laughter and chatter, desperation lacing every syllable.
But she was gone. Swallowed by the chaos of Vauxhall Gardens.
The gasp of a lady startled nearby, followed by the loud crack of a gentleman’s cane hitting stone.
Somewhere in the distance, a gunshot rang out, sharp and final.
Adam jerked his head toward the noise, but his heart couldn’t settle.
The sound of it clashed with the rising cheers as hot air balloons lifted, the firelight beneath them flickering like colorful paper lanterns against the sky.
He’d imagined this moment so differently.
He’d imagined Charlene beside him, standing on the rooftop, her hand in his.
He would’ve told her then. How much he loved her. How much he needed her.
Instead, this. A mad crush of strangers and a gnawing emptiness where she should have been.
His hands curled into fists at his sides as he spun to search again, but his movement faltered mid-turn.
A face emerged, unmistakable even in the dim light cast by gold-hued lanterns strung throughout the gardens.
His stomach churned as hatred surged to the surface, unbidden but impossible to contain. David.
His twin stood tall amid the milling crowd, his lips curved into a smug, lopsided grin that could rot even the brightest mood.
Adam’s heart kicked painfully in his chest. The resemblance between them was unavoidable, yet where Adam prided himself on honor, David wore his misdeeds as comfortably as his tailored coat.
“What are you doing here?” Adam growled, his voice low and rough as he closed the distance between them. His gaze darted past David again, sweeping the crowd for Charlene’s familiar figure. She wasn’t there. Of course she wasn’t. She was out of reach now, thanks to his do-no-good brother.
“Good day to you too, Adam.” David’s grin widened, the liquor on his breath thick enough to make Adam’s stomach turn. “Aren’t you happy to see me after all this time?” His twin tilted his head as though amused, as though all of this were nothing more than a game.
“You have some nerve returning to England!”
“Why? Haven’t I been punished enough?”
“A lifetime wouldn’t be enough to punish you, brother.” Not for what he did to Charlene. He would be rotting in a prison cell if it wasn’t for the fact that if his deeds ever became known then Charlene would be completely ruined.
He would never allow that.
Which was why he wanted David gone.
“You need to leave.”
“You mean go home?” David said. “I must say, I have missed our mother. I should call on her, don’t you think?”
“I’m warning you, David. Stay away from my family.”
“You mean our family.”
“We stopped being your family the day you tried to force yourself on an innocent.”
“You mean my fiancée, and is it forced if you are betrothed?”
“You weren’t betrothed yet, and even if you were, that wouldn’t make what you did right.”
David waved his comment aside. “Can we not let bygones be bygones?”
“No.”
“Well, I say yes.”
“Don’t toy with me.” Adam’s jaw tightened, his voice trembling under the force of his anger. “Return the tenants’ money, David. Tomorrow morning. No excuses. And get out of sight.”
“Or else?” David stepped closer, his body language all provocation. The crowd parted unconsciously around them, sensing the tension like a wolf scenting its prey.
Adam tensed as his brother’s hand clamped over his forearm in a bruising grip, squeezing with just enough force to be a threat.
“Or else I’ll collect what you owe myself,” Adam growled, resisting the sharp urge to retaliate.
A public altercation would only solidify the scandal David seemed so determined to stoke.
And Charlene… Charlene would never forgive him.
“Feisty tonight, aren’t we?” David chuckled darkly, his other hand brushing down the lapel of his double-breasted coat.
He leaned in, his smile venomous. “I see I’ve touched a nerve, brother.
Could it be the lady herself? Have you grown fond of her?
” His brow quirked, false sympathy painting his face.
“Is she as good as I imagined she might be?”
Adam’s self-restraint frayed dangerously at the edges. He sucked in a sharp breath, his nostrils flaring, but David continued his taunts, relishing every moment.
“Tell me, Adam,” David drawled, leaning closer still. “When she screamed, was it your name or mine?”
Adam’s temper erupted. He struck David’s wrist, forcing his brother to release him, and stepped forward so quickly that his chest nearly collided with David’s.
His voice dropped low, sharp as a blade.
“If you so much as speak Charlene’s name again, I swear I will forget every last fiber of decency Father taught me.
And I will disregard the fact that Mother wishes you well. ”
David smirked, unfazed, even as Adam loomed above him. “Protecting her virtue, are we? How noble. How dull.”
Fury rolled through Adam, his hand tightening at his side. But when he spoke again, his voice was steadier, colder. “You will not drag her down into your mud. You will not sully her name. Not now, not ever.”
“She doesn’t belong with you,” David sneered. “She’ll come to her senses soon enough.”
Adam’s hand twitched, the urge to strike him nearly unbearable. But scandal would not make him a savior in Charlene’s eyes. No. He would fight him another day. Quietly. Efficiently. He stepped back with deliberate control.
“She belongs nowhere near you,” Adam said. His voice was hard, but he tipped his chin higher, staring down at his twin with an unflinching gaze. “Mark my words, David. You’ll return what’s owed. Stay out of my affairs and stay away from Charlene.”
David smirked again, but Adam had already turned, his eyes darting once more through the crowd. Had she seen David? Was that why she didn’t show up? His heart raced as he imagined Charlene lost out there alone.
*
Charlene pressed her gloved hand over her mouth, stifling the sob that clawed its way up her throat.
Her vision blurred as tears spilled, warm and unwelcome, tracing cold paths down her cheeks in the late afternoon chill.
The houses along the street cast uneven pools of light on the slick cobblestones as the sun went down and more and more lights came on, but her eyes darted past them, unfocused.
She stumbled as her satin slippers slipped on a loose stone, catching herself against the wrought-iron railing of a townhouse.
For a moment, she clung to it, the cool metal biting against her palm, and gasped for breath.
Her chest heaved, every inhale tight and shallow, but the weight pressing on her ribs wasn’t the fabric; it was the betrayal, the lie.
Her heart ached with the sheer force of it.
She had trusted Adam. She had dared to believe in him, in his character, in those solemn words that had promised her nothing but honesty.
But he had lied, hadn’t he?
He would have known, wouldn’t he have?
And she had once again fallen for a blazing Cross.
The city seemed an endless maze of noise and movement, but Charlene felt completely alone.
The clip-clop of horses, the rumble of carriage wheels, and the raised voices of passersby blurred into an indistinct hum as her surroundings grew distant and meaningless.
A child’s laughter rang out somewhere nearby, shrill and carefree, and it only made her throat tighten further.
She pulled the edges of her cloak tighter around her, feeling as though the chill in the air had seeped straight into her bones.
Her fingers curled into the fabric, trembling with the effort to hold herself together when all she wanted to do was collapse onto the street like a castaway left behind.
Her steps quickened as she turned onto quieter streets, the cracks in the cobblestones snagging the hem of her gown.
But she didn’t stop to free it, didn’t care.
She needed the sanctuary of her home, the walls that would shield her from the world.
Where she wouldn’t have to see Adam or the confusion that lingered in his eyes.
That pain… Anger flickered in her again, reigniting where grief had softened her.
How dare he! He had kept the truth from her, stood there with those sincere eyes, and withheld the one thing she had asked of him.
To not be his brother.
Not like David.
Never David again.
She wiped at her tears, but they welled again, hot and unrelenting, spilling over faster than she could wipe them away. She couldn’t help but remember that night… when David had lured her into the alcove.
He’d slipped his hands into her bodice, pressed his mouth against hers and more… cold dread washed over her at the embarrassment, humiliation, and disgust alone.
And what was worse, she couldn’t tell if it was David’s or Adam’s face just now. It was David, she knew that, and the hit she’d managed to deliver with a vase from the side table had broken his tooth. But that moment of uncertainty had been awful.
Fortunately, he’d been marked as the dirty man he was and… Charlene heaved for air… it was a way to keep him apart from Adam after all. Thanks to that vase. David was not like Adam—at least not on the outside.
But Adam had kept the truth from her.
But then again, Adam had also been the one to help her that night. It hadn’t come cheap for him to ensure the hosts of the evening did not learn of the matter.
And he had never told a soul about the humiliation.
Being compromised for nothing—no sparks, no love, not even the slightest bit of affection. David Cross was a man who only loved himself.
And he hurt people.
Hurt her.