“As our dear friends, you’re welcome any time,” Tessa said, with a cold look at De Villier.
Numbly, Gabby let Adam steer her away.
“I can’t believe I did that,” she said in shock. “That I just insulted one of the most powerful men in England.”
“The prat deserved it.” Adam flashed her a grin. “Next time he’ll think twice before insulting me in front of my fierce and loyal wife.”
30
A few days later,Gabby entered Adam’s study while he was at work. She was in search of her son’s missing book. Max was inconsolable at its disappearance, and the staff had combed the house from top to bottom to no avail. The study was the only place they hadn’t looked, and since Adam often read to Max, Gabby had high hopes for finding the lost volume in here.
She checked the seating area by the hearth first, even peering beneath the furnishings. She didn’t find Max’s book but did recover one of Fiona’s hair ribbons. Heavens, the pair was like Hansel and Gretel, leaving a trail wherever they went. With a rueful smile, she continued onto Adam’s desk. She sat in his chair, the feel of the studded leather and faint whiff of his spicy musk giving her a pleasant shiver.
She scanned the surface of the desk, which included a tray of writing implements and an ornate wax jack. Burke had left a large stack of the day’s correspondence on the leather blotter, and she started there, triumph sparking when she spied the missing book beneath the pile.
A mama’s intuition is never wrong, she thought with a touch of smugness.
As she dug out the book, a letter slid from the stack, the flowy, feminine handwriting catching her eye. After a moment, she set down the book and picked up the note. The paper was creamy and thick; coolness feathered over her nape as the scent of cloying perfume reached her nostrils.
The letter was addressed simply to Adam Garrity with no return address. Turning it over, she found a red wax seal that bore an odd stamp. She examined it more closely and saw that it depicted two crossed swords—no, not swords…riding crops? The chill spread to her insides, her fingers curling around the sealed note.
A private note, one that she had no right to open.
She broke the seal. Unfolding the paper, she read the short lines:
My dearest Adam,
It has been weeks since I’ve heard from you. Know that I’ve been thinking of you, praying for your speedy recovery. And hoping that I shall see you at the club soon on our usual Friday.
Yours fondly,
J.
J…Jessabelle.
A crack split open in Gabby’s heart, the pain making it difficult to breathe. She stared at the note, willing the voluptuous loops of handwriting to change, to somehow rearrange itself into something less damning.
But it remained exactly as it was. Proof of her husband’s infidelity.
A hammer poised to smash her happiness to smithereens.
Yet as despair pushed hotly behind her eyes, another feeling surged alongside it. A similar but stronger version of what she had experienced when she’d stood up to De Villier. It took her a moment to label it as…rage.
Our usual Friday.
Had Adam kept this…thisharloton a schedule too? How long had he been carrying on this affair? Was he in love with the blasted lightskirt?
In the past, she would have tried to hide from the pain. To ignore or block out the evidence of Adam’s betrayal. To try to move on from it the best she could.
But that was before.
She was different now. TheBin of Blissful Ignorancewas no more, and she would accept nothing less than honesty in her marriage. With bitter irony, she saw that love had changed her. Afterward, she would nurse her broken heart, but first she wanted the answers to her questions—deservedthem. Because of his amnesia, her husband, damn his eyes, couldn’t give them to her…and now she didn’t know if she would even trust what came out of his lying lips.
No, she would have the truth from the source.
Her hands shaking, she inspected the note again. Perfectly discreet, no address, no clues except for the stamp on the seal and the fact that the meetings took place at “the club.”
Our usual Friday.
