The Undoing of a Libertine (Somerset Historicals 2) - Page 67

You don’t know me, but I know your wife. Know her in every sense of the word. I was annoyed to hear you snatched her away for your own pleasures. She takes a cock real well, doesn’t she? I’ll never forget how sweet she felt when I shagged her till she bled. Or maybe that was her virgin blood. All the crying and fighting just made everything that much sweeter. Does she fight you?

You took my plaything, and I’m not pleased. Uncle would have married her if you hadn’t come along, and by the way, he’s still heated you put a gun to him. Now that whore from the bordello, the blonde one that looks like her, will have to do. She’s not as good though—not much fight in her. She mentioned you…that whore, Marguerite. Said you asked about us. Said you gave her money to leave England. Now why would you do that, Greymont? Could it be you wish to protect your bride’s reputation? I’m thinking that must be it. Lucky for you there is a way to accomplish this goal. It will require capital though. Shouldn’t be a trouble for you. Come three days hence: 44 Peake Street, Knightsbridge, and await direction.

Ahead of you,

S.S.

The urge to kill boiled inside his body. Jeremy was not a violent person by nature, but this letter had changed that facet of his character. With buried rage simmering, he forced a calm presentation on the front, knowing he had to find Gina and tell her he was leaving immediately for London. And another of his character traits was about to take a hard blow as well. He was going to have to lie like hell to her.

* * * *

“But why must I stay with the Rourkes?” Georgina pleaded. “Can I not go with you?”

“No, sweetheart. This is urgent, dreadful business—lives are at stake. There is no time for anything social, I’m afraid. Not this trip.” He smiled a little and stroked her cheek.

“I don’t care about parties. I just want to be with you.”

“And I hate to leave you here, but I’d be in negotiations all day and we’d have no time together anyway,” he said firmly. “No—it’s best for you to stay. I’ve spoken with Darius, and he said Marianne is thrilled to have your company. You can sketch and go to the shops together, take Frisk along—”

She shook her head at him.

“Gina, you will indulge me in this.” He gripped her arms. “I—I cannot leave you alone here, unprotected.” His voice lowered to a hard whisper. “I just can’t. Not after what happened to you.”

She froze. There it was again. Her shame thrown back in her face. Now Jeremy was doing it. Would she ever be free? Free of the hold it had on the both of them?

Georgina gave in because it seemed so important to him, but she spoke stiffly. “All right, Jeremy. I’ll go stay with the Rourkes, as it obviously pleases you.”

He kissed her cheek. “You are a good wife. Thank you, sweetheart, it eases my heart knowing you will be safe.”

She stayed stiff when he touched her, but had to ask him, “When will you go?”

“Today. As soon as I can be ready.”

“Oh, well, I’d better leave you to it then. You must have much to do.”

Georgina stepped back, and Jeremy didn’t stop her. She wished he would’ve. She wished he’d take her in his arms and kiss her wildly and tell her he couldn’t be parted from her and to go pack her things because she was coming with him. But that wasn’t happening, was it? From the look of him, she’d say he was eager to get on the road, and that felt like a stab to the heart. She would miss him, but it seemed he couldn’t wait to get away.

“I’ll come find you when it’s time to bid farewell so we can have a few minutes alone before I go.” He smiled again, but she could see it didn’t reach to his eyes.

“As you wish, Jeremy.” She bowed her head.

Georgina let herself out of his study with her dignity intact. She hadn’t cried at least. And he was being kind and solicitous of her, considering the pressure he was under. It would only be for a few days, she reminded herself. So why then did she feel such a foreboding, like Jeremy was slipping away from her in parts?

Chapter Twenty-Eight

...Murder’s out of tune,

And sweet revenge grows harsh.

—William Shakespeare, Othello (1602)

The trip to London gave Jeremy plenty of time to think. Leaving Gina on the steps of Hallborough had been agony. She had stayed on the landing, her willowy shape still discernable when he turned Samson and looked back as he left the grounds of Hallborough.

Their parting had not been as he’d wished. She was hurt, he knew, at being left behind, but he couldn’t have her in Town, not where Strawnly or Pellton might see her. No telling what could happen. It was far too dangerous a risk, and she was too precious to him for risks of any kind to even be considered.

This past week had been a bloody nightmare, a vile weed that just kept spreading. First the boy’s tragic death, then the drunken ravishment that resulted in making her cringe from him like he was some monster, and now this!

Jeremy wasn’t too worried about Strawnly’s extortion attempt though. He had other plans for that shit-bastard, and money wouldn’t be needed where he was going.

Tags: Raine Miller Somerset Historicals Erotic
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