Chapter Sixteen
If Graham had left Adelaide’s side the night before with confusion and emotion clouding his judgment, he returned to Emma and James’s house late the next morning with even more of the same. He’d spent an entirely sleepless night thinking of her. Of what she’d told him. Of the fact that she demanded nothing from him.
And yet she inspired him to think of terrifying things. Futures he’d told himself he’d never have. A life he perhaps didn’t deserve and that might only end in heartbreak. For her. For him.
The door to the parlor opened and he turned, expecting to see Adelaide and his hosts. Instead, it was only Emma who entered the chamber, her pretty face lit by a welcoming smile. He couldn’t help but return it, for his friend’s wife was nothing but kind and genuine.
“Graham, I’m so happy to see you again,” she said, motioning him back to his seat as she took her own. “The others will join us shortly. James had an unexpected visitor who insisted on being seen, so he sent me ahead to chat with you when Grimble said you were here. Adelaide slept a bit late, she is just finishing readying herself but will join us soon.”
Graham swallowed. If Adelaide had slept late, that was likely his fault. After all, he had been the one to keep her up into the wee hours of the morning with passion and secrets.
“I’m sure the two of us will find much to talk about,” he said, finding some semblance of politeness even when his mind was spinning.
Emma nodded, but her dark gaze was very focused on him. Like she was reading him. “James told me you once encouraged him to pursue me.”
Graham was happy he had not been offered a drink as of yet, or he surely would have spit it across the room at her unexpected statement. He smoothed his hands over his waistcoat and nodded. “I did, Your Grace.”
“I’m forever grateful for that,” she said, leaning forward. “And so very grateful to see you begin to return to the circle of friends who love you dearly. It means so much to my husband. I do wonder, though…”
She trailed off, and Graham set his jaw. She was direct, but also hedging, questioning herself. “What do you wonder?”
“Adelaide is my friend,” she said, her tone still firm despite its softness. “My best friend in the world, one who has seen me through a great deal. I would not wish to see her hurt.”
“James spoke to you?” Graham eased out carefully, uncertain whether to be offended or understanding of his friend’s loose lips when it came to his bride.
Emma lifted both eyebrows slightly. “No, he didn’t. I’m speaking from my own observations, Graham. My own understanding of the situation between you.”
He nodded slowly. “Do you think I’m not good enough for her?”
She laughed. “You are one of the most sought-after men in Society. And what matters more is that I know you are a good and decent man. It has nothing to do with your value. Just how much you would value her. If you don’t have intentions for a future for Adelaide, I hope you’ll consider backing away. Else she’ll be hurt and I would hate for that to happen.”
“You are a good friend to her,” Graham said softly.
“Well, you would know about being a good friend,” she replied. “You have always been the best of friends to those you love. And I know you understand where my heart is, for you’ve been protective of those you care for, as well.”
He ducked his head. “I do understand, Emma.”
She smiled at his use of her given name, at the understanding it represented. Then she shook her head. “Gracious, I wasn’t thinking. Would you like tea?”
She rushed to her feet to pour it, and at that moment the door opened and Adelaide stepped inside. Graham might have answered Emma’s question, but he was so taken aback by what he saw that he couldn’t.
The woman at the door was not Lydia. But neither was she clothed in her usual costume as Adelaide. She wore a pretty gown, one that didn’t contain her clothing’s usual high-necked fashion. She didn’t wear her spectacles and her hair was done in a looser style, one that framed her face and made her beauty shine through.
She was truly Adelaide now. The woman between her two roles. The woman who had captured him and confused him and made him feel safe enough to confess the darkest parts of himself. And he couldn’t stop staring at her in wonder as she blushed prettily and stepped into the room.
Emma followed his gaze, and she, too, caught her breath at Adelaide’s appearance. She moved to her. “You are lovely,” she said, taking her hand as they stepped toward Graham.
He nodded. “Lovely,” he repeated.
Adelaide’s cheeks were flaming now, and she ducked her head. “You two will swell my head. It’s all Emma’s gown, you know. Thank you again for the loan of it.”
Emma snorted. “You are welcome, but I assure you, a silly dress is not the cause of your beauty.”
Graham smiled in her direction, both for her kindness in the loan and for her compliments of her friend. Adelaide deserved no less.
“Good morning, Graham,” Adelaide squeaked out.
His smile broadened. “Good morning yourself, Adelaide.”
They stood together for a long moment that seemed to stretch for an eternity. Then Graham cleared his throat. “Emma, I wonder if I might have a moment alone with Adelaide?”
Emma’s lips parted slightly, and she looked at her friend. Graham was happy when Adelaide gave a slight nod, indicating she wanted the same thing he did. Still, Emma shifted her weight.
“Er, I…I really shouldn’t leave you unchaperoned,” she murmured, glancing from the couple to the door and back again.
Graham arched a brow at her. “But you will. Because you are a good woman.”
Emma shot him a look and then nodded. “Very well. I should check on James and his guest, at any rate. See if he needs saving. But I’m leaving the door open a crack, you two. And I will be back very shortly.”
“Yes, Mother,” Adelaide teased as Emma slipped from the room.
The moment she had gone, Graham reached for Adelaide and she stepped into his arms, tilting her face toward his with a shuddering sigh that seemed to sink into his very soul. His mouth covered hers and she opened to him, her body molding against his as he kissed her as thoroughly as he could without coming undone and losing control with her.
As much as he wanted to, it was clear they had no time. When they’d stood in each other’s arms for what felt like forever, she broke the kiss and stepped back, her cheeks still flaming like an innocent.
“That is a good way to start a morning,” Adelaide said with a nervous smile.
“I agree,” he said, taking her hand and leading her to the settee where they sat far too close together. He brushed an errant curl away from her forehead and smiled. “I like this look on you, Adelaide.”
She bent her head. “Rebecca was more than happy to help me abandon my severe hair.”
“I never asked you, can you see without your spectacles?”
She laughed then, a musical sound that made his heart lighter. “Gracious, yes. They were only ever for reading, and a slight adjustment at that. I see better without them, truth be told.”
He smiled, but then he sobered. There was one question that had plagued him all night, all morning. “Are you sorry about last night?”
Her expression softened as she stared at him, her eyes wide and her lips slightly parted. “Graham, surely you must know the answer to that question.”
He shook his head.
She took both his hands in hers and leaned closer. “I have never regretted any moment with you, Graham. Not a one. If I have not made it clear, then I must tell you that you…you brought me back to life. I could never regret that.”
He caught his breath, for what she’d said was exactly how he, himself, felt but had never allowed himself to examine too closely. Since the end of his engagement to Meg—hell, even before that—he’d felt trapped. Dead inside. Empty.
But the moment he met Lydia, the moment he danced with Adelaide, all that had begun to change. The ice around him that held him in place, kept him cold and broken, had melted with every look and laugh and heated touch.
And calling that being brought back to life was the most apt description he could imagine. He stroked his thumb over her lower lip, ready to tell her he felt the same, but before he could, the door behind them slammed open.
Both jumped to their feet, pivoting to face the intruder. Adelaide swung slightly and Graham caught her elbow to steady her as her aunt Opal stomped into the room with Emma hot on her heels.
“You have no right to barge into my home!” Emma snapped out, sending an apologetic look to Graham and Adelaide.
Lady Opal glared at Emma. “You speak of your rights when you all but stole my charge out from under me? When you have left her alone with this…this…animal, who likely smells the whore on her?”
Adelaide flinched and Graham took a long step toward her. “Have a care with how you speak to the Duchess of Abernathe and to Adelaide, Lady Opal.”
The older woman’s eyes narrowed and her lined face grew lively with what he could only describe as…rage. He knew that rage. He’d seen it many times on his father’s own face. He’d felt it that night when he attacked Sir Archibald. On the morning when he realized Simon had betrayed him.
It was out of control. It was violent. And it was turned on Adelaide. In that moment he wanted to tug her behind him, to cocoon her into his arms and protect her from all the vile words this nasty woman had spewed over the years.
But Adelaide didn’t ask him to do so. She lifted her chin and stepped around the settee to her aunt with all the bravery of a soldier about to enter into battle. “What are you doing here, Aunt Opal?” she asked, the slight tremor to her voice the only indication of her fear.
“Look at you, with your dress cut down to your breasts and your hair loose like a lightskirt,” Lady Opal growled. “This is why I don’t let you spend the night away.”
Adelaide drew in a long breath, ragged and tired, like this was something she’d faced before. Faced so many times. He supposed it was, based upon the secrets Adelaide had whispered to him the night before. His heart hurt for her.
“Why are you here?” she repeated, gentling her tone even in the face of her guardian’s cruelty.
“To bring you home,” Lady Opal said. “You need to come home, Adelaide.”
Graham tilted his head at the almost desperate tinge to the woman’s tone. She was cruel, but there was something else there. Fear. Anxiety. The sound of it mixed together made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. There was something irrational to this woman’s behavior.
Something that frightened him.
“Adelaide,” he said softly. “You don’t have to do anything she says.”
Adelaide shot him a look over her shoulder. A fearful look, one filled with uncertainty.
“Aunt Opal,” she began, but before she could say anything more James strode through the parlor door with a man Graham didn’t recognize at his heels.
“As I said to you three times, inspector,” James was saying. “The Duke of Northfield is here and I’m certain he could tell you more about his whereabouts if he wishes to share them.”
Graham wrinkled his brow and James did the same as he looked from Adelaide to Opal to Emma and finally to him.
“It seems I’ve interrupted something in my own house,” James said. “Anyone care to explain what’s going on here?”
“Lady Opal has come to collect Adelaide,” Graham said, lifting his eyebrows in what he hoped was a message James would receive.
If his friend’s dark frown was any indication, he did. He turned on Opal. “Adelaide will stay with us, my lady. My wife finds she enjoys her company. It is not up for debate.”
Emma smiled as she took her husband’s arm and the two faced off with Lady Opal, who was now turning purple. “You have no right!” Opal spat.
“I’m sorry to interrupt,” the stranger who had accompanied James said with a confused expression. “But I am here on official business.”
“And just who are you?” Graham asked, happy to ignore Opal for the moment, even as he kept a careful eye on Adelaide. She looked terrified as her gaze darted from her guardian to her friends to him and then to this stranger in their midst. “I feel I have a right to know if you were asking Abernathe after me.”
“Captain Richard Black,” the man said with a glance up and down Graham’s form. “Of the Home Office.”
Graham shot James another look, this one full of questions. “The Home Office? And you were looking for me?”
“For answers,” the man corrected with an unpleasant sneer. “I’m investigating an incident that occurred at the Hampshire Theatre two nights ago.”
Graham heard Adelaide’s sharp intake of breath, but very carefully did not look in her direction. He kept his gaze firmly on the man before him. He didn’t like this Captain Black. He had a smarmy feel to him that told Graham he more than enjoyed his job, especially when he got to take a man down a peg or two.
“An incident?” Graham said mildly.
“With Sir Archibald,” Captain Black said with another smile.
Graham gripped his bruised hands at his sides. “I assume you mean the altercation I had when the man attempted to assault an actress?”
“Exactly,” Captain Black drawled.
“You see!” Lady Opal cried, launching herself toward Adelaide, hands outstretched. Adelaide staggered back, dodging her aunt’s grip as Graham lunged to put himself between them once more. Opal hardly seemed to notice. “You align yourself with the kind of man who would accost a gentleman, Adelaide? You align yourself with a beast?”
Adelaide turned her face, her cheeks red. “Please, Aunt Opal, you must stop.”
“I did hit the man,” Graham said. “I don’t deny it, though I’m shocked that he would report such a thing to the authorities.”
Actually, he wasn’t shocked. He could well picture Sir Archibald would take great pleasure in turning to the Home Office to make Graham look bad after he’d been bested.
“He didn’t exactly report the attack,” Captain Black said, folding his arms. “Where did you go after the incident?”
Once again, Graham saw Adelaide stiffen from the corner of his eye. Her hands were shaking and she shoved them behind her back.
“I went home,” he said softly.
“Home. Were there witnesses to that?” Captain Black pressed.
Graham arched a brow. “My servants will attest to my whereabouts if my word as a gentleman pulls no weight with you, sir.”
“The word of your servants,” Captain Black said with a shake of his head. “That rarely holds up in court given the influence you hold over them.”
“I beg your pardon,” James interjected, coming forward. “Are you implying that the Duke of Northfield is lying to you? He’s admitted he and Sir Archibald had an altercation—why would he lie about where he went afterward?”
“Because Sir Archibald is dead,” Captain Black said, keeping his gaze firmly on Graham. “Shot through the head and found washed up on the riverbank just a short way from the theatre where the duke attacked him. And you, Northfield, are the prime suspect in his murder.”