Page 98 of Wedded to the Beastly Duke
“It feels as though I’ve betrayed my brother,” he whispered, and she saw the helplessness in his eyes.
What a terrible situation to be in. What a horrific choice.
She felt for him, her chest aching.
“Is that what William would want?” she asked, thinking of the carefree man in the portrait. He had loved, and he had loved desperately—and the object of his affection had been the man who had escaped from prison.
Adam’s shoulders sagged, and she knew she had won.
“No,” he said, his voice barely audible.
“Come to bed,” she urged. “Sleep on it and see how you feel tomorrow. But I think… I think Nicholas has the punishment of living with what he has done, and is that not enough? Can you not be content with that?” She brushed kisses across his cheekbones, his nose, under his eyes, and her lips came away wet. “If tomorrow you decide you still want to be in London to help with the search, then I will go with you.”
“No,” he said immediately.
“Yes.” She smiled up at him, her heart swelling with affection. “My darling husband, you will not face this alone. You willneverface this alone. I made that promise to you, and I will not be failing you now.”
* * *
Adam lay in their bed, Emmeline asleep on his chest, her skin like silk against his, her hair softly splayed across the pillow, and her soft breaths a lullaby in the darkness.
He could not envisage doing anything that would bring harm to her and their unborn child, and he also knew that if he attempted to leave for London without her, she would just follow him.
God, but he loved her. Almost terrifyingly so. And though he had yet to meet their child, he loved them, too.
For her, for the sake of their child, he would learn to let this go.
Even if it felt as though something was taking hold of his chest and digging claws into his heart.
* * *
There was one final surprise left for them. With Rickard visiting, they had left the house for a picnic in the autumn sun, just as they had done some time ago when she was attempting to convince Adam to trust him.
When they returned, however, there was a letter awaiting them. The butler brought it to them on a silver tray, his face tight with emotion, and when Adam saw it, his entire body tensed up.
It couldn’t be. The handwriting was William’s.
Emmeline glanced at him, so attuned to his feelings that she could sense when something was wrong, even when he hadn’t said a single word.
With trembling fingers, Adam took the letter and opened it. The seal was unfamiliar, not the Kant crest that William would have used with his signet ring, but even so, he knew that somehow, beyond all reason, this was a letter that had come from his brother.
“This…” His voice was hoarse, and Emmeline took his arm. “This arrived today?”
The butler nodded. “It is from Italy, Your Grace.”
Italy. Could this have been posted before William’s death?
“Is this what I think it is?” Emmeline whispered.
She reached out to touch the paper as though she could somehow sense the truth through it.
Rickard nodded as he looked between them. “I’ll give you two some privacy.”
Without a word, Adam made for the stairs, pausing only to make sure Emmeline could keep up with him without a struggle, and strode toward his bedroom. His mind was whirling, his stomach was churning, and he felt as though someone had hit him over the head.
How could this be happening?
William could not have written to him. It was impossible. Improbable.
