A Perfect Secret by Donna Hatch Read Free Book Online Page B

the bed and resettled herself into a more comfortable upright position. Pain shot out from multiple places and she hissed in her breath. After setting the tray on a bedside table, the maid arranged pillows behind her.
    Christian hovered in the doorway, sending darting glances her way. What could she say to him? She was sorry? She didn’t mean all those things she said in Bath, or just now, for that matter? Any of that would only make matters worse. Her throat tightened and her eyes burned. She glanced at the scones and a cup filled with brown liquid that smelled of chocolate. The maid bobbed a curtsy and left the room.
    Still standing in the doorway, Christian let out a long exhale and turned to leave. He might send her back to Wickburgh. Panic raced through her.
    “Christian, wait.”
    With his back to her, he paused and stood fisting his hands.
    Her heart thudded as she sought for the words to convince him to keep her secret. “You think me terrible for a number of reasons, and I have no right to ask you for forgiveness, nor for any favors.”
    He made no motion, just stood completely still.
    She took a steadying breath. “But I beg you; do not send me back to Wickburgh.”
    Slowly he turned, folded his arms, and leaned his back against the doorframe in forced nonchalance. “Not blissfully happy as a viscountess, I take it?”
    She had no reply to that. She wasn’t about to bare the horror of belonging to Wickburgh.
    “You can’t stay here,” he said flatly.
    “No. That would be unwise for a number of reasons. All I ask is that you don’t send me back to him. Please, just give me a day or two to regain my strength.”
    “And then?”             
    She picked up her cup to give herself time to think. Then what? The idea of a watery grave no longer seemed a welcoming option. In truth, how could she have even thought of killing herself? Those actions seemed to belong to another person. Perhaps the water had knocked some sense into her. But to go back to her ivy-covered prison ...
    No. She’d never go back to him .
    To avoid looking at Christian, Genevieve let her gaze drift about the room. Royal blue wallpaper with gold leaves adorned the walls. A corner of one piece of wallpaper had fallen loose near the window, reminding Genevieve of how her idyllic life had become tattered the moment she married Wickburgh. More than tattered—completely unraveled.
    How could she avoid going back to him? He’d find her just like he did the last time she’d tried to leave. Of course, he might believe she’d died in the river. Her breath caught. He might believe she’d died in the river.
    A new plan formed. Daring. Dangerous. Probably doomed. But she could escape. If it worked.
    She poured cream and sugar into her cup of chocolate until the normally bitter drink became creamy and decadent.
    Finally, she looked up at Christian who watched her warily. “I’m not entirely certain where I should go just yet. But I must get far away. And I really, really need everyone to believe I’ve drowned.”
    His forehead creased and he let out a huff in mocking amusement. “You want me to lie for you—you, of all people. Why would I do that?”
    The cup in her hand shook at the venom dangling off his words. “No, I’m not asking you to lie for me. Just don’t send word to anyone that I’m here. Say nothing. Please.” She leaned forward. “Tell no one who I am. Let him think I’m dead.”
    The crystal blue of his eyes turned to pure ice. “I want no part of this.”
    “Please.” It came out as a half sob. “I cannot go back to him.”
    He shook his head, his shoulders sagging a little. “Very well. I won’t send word that you are here. But I won’t lie for you, Lady Wickburgh. Leave. Soon.”
    He closed the door. Cold seeped into her bones. Christian was so different. Had he changed so drastically, or had she not really known him? Their courtship had been short and blissful. Perhaps there was another side to him