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12
Some months later.
Leo pushed at the tray of untouched food at his elbow. There wasn’t anything worse than a cold omelet, in his opinion. Of course, no omelet, even one seasoned with herbs and dripping with his favorite cheese, mixed well with the scotch he was drinking. He hadn’t any appetite when Peckham had brought the food to him piping hot nearly an hour ago.
The decanter of scotch was nearly empty.Again.
Betrayal, Leo found, made a person thirsty. Though it could also be because Peckham wasn’t filling the decanter properly.
His gaze bumped over the table before him. The letter, thathorrible, terribleletter, lay open, as it had for weeks. Possibly longer. He hadn’t been paying attention to the passage of time. The ink was barely visible on the pale vellum, but it didn’t matter. He’d read the words dozens of times.
The coiled asp, as he imagined the letter to be, had sunk its fangs into Leo, refusing to let go. The words, destroying him from the inside out, were for him and him alone. The final communication Marcus Barrington would ever have with Leo.
A shudder ran through him, along with a great deal of grief, though not all of it was for his father. Regret nearly choked him. Anger mixed with the scotch, souring in his stomach.
No wonder he didn’t have a bloody appetite. No one would after reading that fucking thing.
The news of the Duke of Averell’s death had interrupted his heated discussion with Georgina that night.
Damn her.
Leo had been determined in that narrow hallway, with Georgina trapped between his body and the wall, that sheneverleave him again. He’d meant to tell her that they belonged together. But then she’d started hurling accusations at him, and Peckham had appeared.
Now she was gone.
He’d faced the news of his father’s death alone, deprived of the one person whose presence he needed. Tony had left for Cherry Hill earlier in the week and the messenger was from his brother.
Another thing I’m really bloody angry over. I needed her.
Leo splashed some more scotch into his glass. Georgina was essential to him. That was the problem. He couldn’t breathe without her. At least not properly. He’d been so furious to find she hadn’t waited. So—
Devastated.There didn’t seem to be a point in lying to himself.
There he was,baring his soul to her—
Leo took another swallow from his glass. At least it felt like that to him. Georgina must not have agreed because she hadn’t stayed.
You’ll keep me as your mistress? As your father did to your mother?
He hadn’t known the answer when she’d thrown the question at him. He’d had no bloody idea what a future with Georgina would involve. The only thing he’d been considering was how much he missed her, and he couldn’t bear it any longer.
Leo had immediately made arrangements to go to Cherry Hill in the morning. He hadn’t even bothered to try to find her. He’d expected she’d gone to the small house she rented in town or back to Beechwood Court. It didn’t matter, Leo had told himself as his coach had lurched in the direction of Cherry Hill. Peckham’s interruption that night had been fortuitous.
What would he have done? Offered to marry her?
He stretched a hand across his chest. It felt as if he’d been in the worst tavern brawl of his life. Leo’s entire body ached.
Deceitful Georgina.
Marcus Barrington had been dead several days when Leo had finally arrived at Cherry Hill, still smarting from Georgina’s dismissal. The unexpected regret and sharp, horrible pain over his father’s death had nearly choked Leo. He’d wished for her presence again. For just a scent of spring.
Amanda had been inconsolable, so stricken with grief she could barely speak. She’d glared at Leo with accusation instead of offering her customary warm welcome.
“How does your righteous indignation suit you now, Leo?” she’d said. “Why not continue to rail at him for making you a bastard? Go on. He’s dead. He’ll hardly protest.”
Leo had fallen back at Amanda’s words.
Tony had stood off to the side, his features pinched. “I received much the same greeting. Though I think mine may have been worse.”
