“No,” Fitz said, shaking his head and scowling at his brother. “Adelaide is myex-mistress. I didn’t tup her and don’t intend to. In my townhome or out of it. The only woman I want is my wife.”
“Then what the bloody hell were you paying her for? What did you two do in your study?”
“She was dropping off some…items I requested. You see, I reached out to her for help.” He lifted his hands beseechingly. “I needed some help in the bedroom because of some proclivities Georgiana has that I know nothing about. So, I went to Adelaide for tutelage.”
Felix’s eyes bugged.
Fitz shifted in his seat and wiped his sweaty palms on his trousers. “I…went to Adelaide. And she’s been helpful,” he rushed on.
His brother couldn’t stop shaking his head. “Adelaide.”
“Yes…” Fitz thought, perhaps—based on his brother’s reaction—this might be where he had erred, at least the most damning err. He was sure he had erred quite a bit.
“Why? Why would you go to your mistress for help with bedding your wife?” He closed his eyes and pinched his nose. Realization dawned on Felix’s face. “No. She is not the reason you left on Christmas, is she?”
Fitz nodded, shrinking into his shoulders, and Felix groaned.
“Please tell me you didn’t actually practice with her.”
“No! Of course not,” Fitz growled. Why did no one understand what he was saying? “I went to her forinformation. I only want Georgiana. I don’t want Adelaide. I couldn’t even touch her when I was there. When I tried to choke her—”
“Youwhat?”
Fitz hadn’t thought his brother’s voice could go that high. He blew out a breath. “She was teaching me hand placement,” he said patiently. “Not literal harm. And not-sexual, purely instructional. And the feel of her skin?” He shuddered. “It was all wrong.”
“I need more bloody whisky.” Felix turned, slamming bottles and glasses around. “Want one?”
Before Fitz could even answer in the affirmative, a whisky was in his hand.
“So, do you think that is where I went wrong? I shouldn’t have gone to Adelaide for help?”
His brother flopped down in the chair opposite him and deflated on a breath in the seat. “Partly. No wife, especially one who looks at her husband with hearts in her eyes like Georgiana does with you, wants their husband having contact with a mistress, with an ex-lover.”
Fitz preened. She looked at him with hearts in her eyes? His elation immediately crumbled. He was sure after this muddle, there would be no hearts. Just daggers. And his brother’s next words were daggers as well.
“And by God, Fitzy. You left her on Christmas for your mistress. Sex or not. That’s a hard blow to swallow.”
Fuck. How had he bungled this so badly? It had seemed like such a logical idea at the time. Who better to teach one about sex than someone who practices it all the time?
Felix threw back a large swallow of amber liquid and studied Fitz. “But it’s more than that. I think I might be starting to make sense of your fucked up logic. Let me see if this time I have it correct. Your wife wants to do”—he waved a hand—“somethingin the bedroom that you have no experience with. So, you went to your mistress for help—on Christmas. She then showed up at your house with…items—whatever those may be—and your wife stumbled upon you paying her for said paraphernalia.”
Fitz thought it over. That sounded about right. He nodded. “But I explained everything to Georgiana, and it seemed to only make things worse.”
Felix winced. “Do you remember what you said? If not exact, very close wording? Because based on what you’ve told me so far, I have a feeling what you said isn’t what you thought you said.”
“Mmm, perhaps.” He screwed up his face. “I said I didn’t hire Adelaide for what she assumed. That it was for tutelage. That Adelaide had been teaching me certain things in the bedroom that I knew Georgiana was interested in. That I was doing it for Georgiana.”
Felix’s jaw dropped open. Wide open. Hit-the-floor open. “You-you-you-youuuu.”
Fitz had broken his brother.
Felix cursed. “Heaven, help you, brother. You’re lucky she didn’t murder you on the spot. Do you not hear how that sounds? First”—he held up a finger—“you told her you would only visit your mistress elsewhere, implying you’re obviously shagging her. And second”—he threw up another finger—“it sounds like you proceeded to tell your wife you’ve beenfuckingyour mistress as practice. To then go home and fuck Georgiana with your newtechniques.” His shoulders sagged.
So did Fitz’s. Fuck. Hearing it back. It did sound damning. That is not what he had meant at all. Why did the words never word properly for Fitz?
“Why didn’t you just come to me if you had questions, Fitzy?”
Fitz’s brows pinched. He had thought that was obvious. “Well, because you don’t tup women.”
