“You look pale, old chap. I have not seen you so shaken since…”
The Duke of Northwich’s words trailed off, replaced by the jangling of tack and the clopping of horses’ hooves.
It was just as well. Adrian did not require the reminder.
His hand clenched on the gilt handle of his walking stick. “It was more difficult than I thought it would be. The mask…”
The mask had felt like the peak he had been forced to wear when he had been nothing but a silent number. His gut clenched and perspiration made his palms slick. How long would these demons haunt him?
Forever?
“You did well,” Northwich said, “exceedingly well, considering. No one would have looked upon you and thought a bloody thing was amiss.”
“I am indebted to you.” In more ways than one. The duke had proven a true friend to Adrian.
Hell.He had proven the only friend Adrian possessed.
“Tripe.” Northwich made a dismissive flick of his wrist. “You once saved my life. It is I who is indebted to you. But more importantly, we are friends, Hastings.”
How could he have known the long-ago day when he had come upon the Duke of Northwich being robbed and beaten and had intervened would have become so important? Not the man he had been then. But the man he was now was damned thankful their paths had crossed.
“You saved mine as well,” he told the duke. “I would have died in that hell.”
“It is despicable, what was done to you there.” A rare razor’s edge of anger underscored Northwich’s tone. “It is more than one man should have to endure. I mean to propose reform that will prevent such inhumane torture from happening in the future.”
Adrian could not force his mind to return to that dark place. It was too soon, his recovery too fragile. No different than his ankle, which pained him mightily. The bone had healed, but it would never be the same as it once was.
Much likehim.
“Any reform you are able to enact will be welcome,” he forced out, his voice sounding rusty.
Unused.
Sometimes, he was still amazed he could speak. That when he opened his mouth, sound emerged. A sound that was not a scream.
“How did the duchess react to your return?” Northwich asked, seeming to understand Adrian’s need of a change in subject. He could only think about what had befallen him for so long until the madness threatened to creep in and claim him. “When you were in private, what did she say to you?”
The duchess.
Tilly.
The woman who had charmed his life and made him fall in love with her for the few months they’d had together.
“She lied,” he bit out, clinging to the rage.
His fury and his need for retribution was what had kept him alive, through the worst of it. Along with his thoughts of his child. The babe was still alive. When Northwich had rescued him, he had learned for the first time that she had given birth to a son.
“In what way?” Northwich probed, cutting through the bitter memories invading his mind and heart.
“She pretends ignorance of where I have been and what was done to me,” he elaborated. “It is a lie.”
“Do you not think there is the possibility that Longleigh deceived her, and that she had no knowledge of what had become of you?”
Irritation rose. Northwich was a good man. Honorable and loyal. He believed the best of others. Adrian had come to realize most people possessed precious little good.
“She gave me the pocket watch and the cufflinks, the ring. She knew.”
In the early days, he had been incredulous at what had happened, the suddenness of it all, the implausibility. The case against him had been weak. He had been expecting her to come for him. To find him. To offer the truth and set him free. But that had not happened.
