Page 76 of Dangerous

She shivered at the thought of his face when he found out she’d gone. She could leave him a letter, but she could not tell him the truth. If he suspected even for a moment that she was leaving for the Mediterranean, he would know to look for her in Eastbourne, at the house of Lord Ramsay.

She sat at the small writing desk in her sitting room and stared at the blank sheet of paper, wondering what she could say that would keep her safe yet not completely destroy the man she’d come to love. Should she lie to him? Tell him the truth? What could she say that would be kind but not give away her destination? What could she say that would not make him feel betrayed and hate her?

What could she say?

The clock ticked loudly, its even cadence nagging and implacable: Time to go, time to go, time to go, it said.

Time to go.

She bent her head to the empty parchment and began to fill it....

Chapter Twenty-Three

Mia lay in bed with a cool cloth on her forehead as her husband frowned down at her, concern clouding his beautiful eyes. Even though she knew it was only concern for the baby inside her, she still treasured the look. She memorized every detail of his face so she could feed her soul with the memory in the weeks to come.

“Are you certain I shouldn’t send for the doctor?” he asked again.

“No, it will go away with rest.” Deceiving him was truly making her ill.

“I’m sorry I will miss the play, Adam. The girls have been looking forward to this evening and planning their outfits for days.”

He regarded her from beneath lowered lids. “I shall pass along your regrets,” he said coolly, turning away.

“Adam—”

“Yes?”

Mia swallowed. She would wreck things if she wasn’t careful. “I just wanted you to know that you have become very important to me.” It wasn’t what she’d meant to say, but it was the best she could manage with such deception in her heart.

He stared at her for a long moment, his eyes so heavily shuttered he looked like a stranger. Mia searched for any clue that he might still feel something for her, but could not see past his beautiful face.

LaValle bustled into the room and placed yet another glass on her nightstand. “I beg your pardon, Lord Exley. This is something Mrs. Harper sent for you, my lady.” LaValle sniffed, her dismissive tone indicating her feelings on the matter before she turned away to fuss with something on the dresser, completely unaware of what she had just interrupted.

Adam’s mouth smiled but the expression never reached his eyes. “Get some rest, my lady.”

Mia watched his elegant form disappear. He knew. He didn’t know what he knew, but he knew something was wrong. It was a good thing she wouldn’t need to see him again before she left. She was one step away from throwing herself on his mercy.

* * *

Adam closed the door to his wife’s bedroom and then stared at it, as if the wood might tell him what was causing alarm bells to sound in his head.

Her words had stupefied him. What the devil did that mean—he’d become important to her? If he was so bloody important, what had she been doing with her hand in the damned footman’s coat? And if what she’d been doing was so bloody innocent, then why had she not explained herself?

The last four and a half days had been the worst in almost a decade. The fact that he’d known this would end badly since the beginning only made matters worse. How could he ever have forgotten the painful, crushing, and humiliating lesson he had learned—that love led to disillusionment at best and betrayal at worst? Christ! The woman hadn’t even waited until the child was born before seeking comfort in another man’s arms. Adam didn’t even want to contemplate the idea that the child might not be his.

Was it just something about Adam that drove women away? Did he do or say something that repelled them? And how could he have been so stupid as to believe her? He was beyond furious with himself. He was—

“Papa?” The word was so soft he almost didn’t hear it. He turned. The vision he encountered took his breath away: Eva, dressed in a cloud of strawberry-colored muslin, her masses of black curly hair tamed into ringlets. Adam stared. He’d always thought she was the very image of Veronica, but he’d been wrong. She resembled his mother, her heart-shaped face and dark blue eyes those of a stunning beauty.

A red flush spread across her high cheekbones—cheekbones like his own, he noticed—as she waited for his reaction.

He smiled and took her hand. “You look beautiful, darling.”

“Thank you, Papa.” She smiled, making her beauty complete.

“Papa?” Catherine and Melissa appeared behind Eva, their smiles hesitant and sweet.

“My goodness,” Adam murmured, something in his chest making it difficult to say more.