“What?” Bridget’s head snapped to the Baron, then to William. “What asset?”
“On the night of his final fight, your brother placed his house, your old ancestral home, as a wager, and by default, I won,” William said miserably.
“Another deception,” she whispered.
“I did not mean any of this,” he hastily added. “Please, understand, I never…” The words failed him. “Please don’t go.”
Shaking her head, Bridget backed away until she met Adam’s chest. “Adam, please, get me away from here.”
“As you wish.”
Anger and despair tangled inside her as she boarded Adam’s carriage.
She’d fallen in love with a cad and gotten ripped to pieces for it. To think that she had trusted William with the one thing she cared for more than anything—her brother.
Instead of saving his life, he ended it.
She was done with love, done with being lied to and made a fool of; never again.
“You are better off without him,” Adam muttered. “I always had it that man was a seditious bastard and that he was bad for you. You’ll do good to leave his life.”
“I believed he would save Frederick,” she said emptily, as the carriage trundled out of London and headed for Kent. “I’d gambled on the one thing I shouldn’t have, Adam… and I lost.”
“Meaning, Frederick.”
She gave him a fleeting smile.No, Adam, I mean my heart.
The red tiles lining the rooftop of Adam’s townhouse had a decidedly Italian feel to them but the marble steps and columns, Grecian.
“I know it looks all over the eras and cultures, but inside is nothing like the exterior, I promise,” he defended while unlocking the door. “It’s been a long journey; you must be ravenous.”
“I don’t think I can stomach a morsel,” she replied quietly. “I need to sleep.”
“I cannot allow a lady to leave to her bed hungry,” Adam replied while calling for a servant girl. “Indulge me again. My cook makes a sumptuous pheasant. There’s nothing like a well-roasted pheasant with new potatoes and seasoned vegetables. And perhaps a good Yorkshire pudding to go with it.”
“Adam,” she sighed. “Please.”
“How about tea and a small mince pie?” he asked instead. “I cannot sleep knowing you are hungry.”
She looked down, “I think I ran out too quickly. I haven’t brought anything to sleep.”
“No need to fret. I still have some of my sister’s old things,” he continued. “You’ll have everything you need.”
“Thank you,” Bridget murmured while taking off her coat. “I suppose I can settle for some tea.”
“Good God, man,” Andrew said. “You’re supposed to be at home, basking in the fruits of your winnings and celebrating with your wife. Why in the name of all that is good and holy do I catch you getting foxed at Whites?”
Ignoring him, William threw back his whiskey.
She was gone.
The memories of her walking out were all he saw. They buried him in a darkness worse than if the earth had opened and swallowed him alive. Remorse had his chest in a vice grip.
She was gone. Gone because he’d deceived her, killed her brother without knowing it, then hid it from her.
She is never coming back.
“Arlington?” Colin joined him, “What the deuce is going on?”
