Page 18 of A Trickster’s Temptation

‘Yes!’ Winnie clapped her hands. ‘And we know everything, Mary! Everything!’

Oh, God.

Oh, no.

‘I…’ Mary staggered backwards, leaning against the study door. ‘I… I must go.’

‘Oh, Mary, wait! Can’t you see that we want to know everything?’ Winnie’s beseeching face only made Mary feel worse. ‘You and Mr. Hart have always been at odds, but as that tension has concealed something deeper, more sentimental—oh, we must know everything from your side!’

‘And not just because it’s gossip, Mary. Truly.’ Abigail looked more concerned than Winnie; Mary stepped backward, overwhelmed with shame at having made her friend worried about her. ‘Given Mr. Hart’s association with the… the less palatable side of my husband’s former life, I must ask you if he’s attempted to involve you in his schemes aside from his—well. His seduction.’

Adam had told Abigail and Winnie that he’d seduced her? He had come here and told the two of them that?

Mary held a hand to her throat, suddenly unable to breathe.

‘Mary. Darling. We’ll bring tea, cake, we’ll talk about it for as long as you need to.’ Winnie paused, coughing; her excitement had to have irritated her already weak lungs. ‘Please.’

Mary had no words. None came, none existed in the midst of her panic. Shaking her head, looking at her friends with hot tears gathering in her eyes, she turned around and fled the study before either Abigail or Winnie could stop her.

The rug down the middle of the corridor felt like slippery mud beneath her feet. Mary pushed past the butler, who rocked back on his heels with an expression of complete bewilderment, and ran down the steps to jump up into her carriage without being helped by the coachman.

The carriage ride home was a short, agonising blur that she knew she would never remember even as it happened. Once she had finally arrived back at the townhouse, the coachman grim-faced but thankfully silent as he helped Mary out of the carriage and immediately left for the stables, she was greeted at the door by a shocked Miss Bates.

‘Ma’am? My goodness, what has occurred? Has there been an accident—I can get some hot water from the kitchens.’

‘There has been no accident.’

‘In truth, the bookseller from Minton Road is waiting in the morning room to see what you thought of the novels. But clearly you are in no condition to meet him.’

Adam was here? To do what—crow over her? As Mary stood in the entrance hall, hunched over as a pain she had never felt before spiralled through her heart, she felt an abrupt surge of anger. ‘Take all of the staff down to the kitchens and close the door.’

‘Ma’am?’

‘That’s an order. Do it now. Stay in the kitchens, all of you, for at least a quarter of an hour.’

‘But ma’am…’

‘As I said, it’s an order.’ Mary stared harshly at Miss Bates, too stricken with feeling to have any pity for the woman. ‘Why aren’t you following it?’

Mrs. Bates, after a confused look, gave an automatic curtsey and rushed away up the stairs. Mary, as she headed towards the morning room, heard her whispering to the maids and footmen on the upper floors to return immediately to the kitchens and await further instructions.

Good. She couldn’t have staff overhearing what was about to happen. Not that she herself knew what was about to happen, given the torment whirling in her mind. Mary threw open the door to the morning room, not caring that the wood slammed against the wallpaper as she advanced.

Adam, dressed as the Minton Road bookseller, was standing in the middle of the Turkish rug. For a moment the sight of him stopped Mary in her tracks; she stood still close to the threshold of the door, tears trembling in the corner of her eyes.

‘I came as soon as I could.’ Adam moved forward, holding up his hands; Mary moved back, pressing herself against the wood of the door as she tried desperately to collect herself. ‘A terrible mistake has been made.’

‘And now the charm begins. That silver tongue capable of freeing its owner from every disaster caused.’ Mary had never heard herself sound so bitter, so choked with pain; she swallowed, trying to collect herself, but her usual restraint was absent. ‘I regret being one of the people you swindled, Mr. Hart, but must protest at you using the same methods on me as you use on them.’

‘Don’t do this. Don’t speak until you’ve listened to me.’

‘Don’t you dare tell me not to speak. You’ve spoken quite enough behind my back.’ Mary stepped away from the door as another jolt of rage shuddered through her. ‘Spoken to Abigail and Winnie.’

‘No.’

‘I went to Abigail’s house. They told me you visited.’

Adam moved towards her. ‘That’s not the whole story.’

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