“You just said that you’re not Jessabelle.”
“I’m not. My name is Jeannette.”
“Then who is Jessabelle?”
“She was my sister, and she’s dead.”
Taken aback, Gabby stared at the other. Mrs. Wilde—JeannetteWilde, apparently—returned the look with a steady one of her own.
“What is Jessabelle’s connection to my husband?” Gabby finally asked.
“That is not my story to tell.” The bawd’s tone was firm but not unkind. “I cannot imagine how confusing this is for you, Mrs. Garrity, but I think you must have a conversation with your husband. Indeed, I have been urging him for years to unburden himself to you.”
“Why…why would you do that?” Gabby whispered painfully. “What right do you have to discussmymarriage withmyhusband?”
“No right, save that of a friend who has known him for a very long…”
The opening door cut off Mrs. Wilde. A handsome, ginger-haired man entered, his gaze shifting alertly between Gabby and the bawd.
“Is everything all right, love?” The man directed the question to Mrs. Wilde. “Ronald mentioned a friend of Adam’s was here.”
Gabby frowned in confusion. This man knew her husband as well?
“Everything is fine. This is not Adam’s friend; she’s his wife,” Mrs. Wilde told him.
“Oh.” The man did a credible job of hiding his shock and bowed courteously to Gabby. “Beg pardon. I did not think Adam mentioned us at home.”
“He didn’t,” Gabby said.
“Ah. Pardon my manners, I’m Thomas Pender. Jeannette’s husband.”
“You’remarried?” Gabby blurted to Mrs. Wilde…or Mrs. Pender, rather?
“We’ll be celebrating six years next month.” The blonde regarded her husband fondly. “Adam introduced us.”
“Garrity and I had done some business together,” Pender explained. “That is, he lent me money, and I was one of the few smart coves who paid him back on schedule. We became friendly. He knew I was a widower and introduced me to Jeannette. She’d always been too busy with her club to bother with a husband. But Adam played matchmaker. I think he knew marriage would add to our happiness, the way it added to his.”
“Not that Adam would ever admit it in so many words. When it comes to emotions, you know what a clam the man can be.” Mrs. Wilde’s look of understanding deepened Gabby’s bewilderment. “But I’ve known him for far too many years, so he could not hide his contentment from me. The happiness and peace you brought him was plain to see. He’s been a changed man ever since he married you.”
“I don’t understand.” With roiling frustration, Gabby said, “If Adam isn’t having an affair, then why didn’t he tell me about the two of you? Why did he keep your existence a secret from me? And what does Jessabelle have to do with all of this?”
Mrs. Wilde and Pender exchanged looks.
“As much as I’d like to oblige you,” the bawd said regretfully, “it’s not my place to answer those questions—”
Adam’s voice cut through the room. “No, that responsibility is mine.”
As Adam accepted the greetings from his old friends, he kept his gaze on Gabriella. He saw the way her lips trembled, the pain and confusion in her expressive eyes, and he hated himself for it. Cursed himself for letting things get to this point. For letting down his guard and allowing her to get hurt…for not protecting her as he ought to have done, regardless of the blasted amnesia.
The throbbing on the side of his head vied for his attention. It was as if the sudden return of his memory had retriggered the wound. Although the tissue was healed, the muscles remembered the pain, gripping onto it.
He fought to concentrate, to get himself under control. He felt as if there were two disparate halves of him warring with one another, the past and present colliding with jarring dissonance. He was who he’d always been, and he was his new self: neither was prepared to deal with the present situation. A situation that his old self would never have let come to pass and which his new self found more than a little appalling.
You lost control, and you hurt her, his old self said.
Why did you keep so many secrets from her?his new self asked in disgust.
Regardless, there was one thing he knew with his entire being: he had to minimize the damage. To protect Gabriella from further pain. Christ, that look of shattered betrayal upon her face…it destroyed him. He’d rather take a knife to the chest than cause her hurt.
