“Do not speak as if you know what sort of man I am, Bridget,” he warned.
“Well, they knew you a little too well in all such establishments, did they not?” she flung back.
“Yes,they know me,” Adrian replied, his tone hard as he leaned closer to her. “Because the investigation into my brother’s death has led me to such places and I have found that it suits me better to be on good terms with management so I may question my suspects.”
Bridget blinked, losing a little bit of her fighting spirit.
“Oh,” she said quietly.
“Oh, indeed,” he mocked.
She looked up at him sheepishly, then Adrian drew a hand to the bridge of his nose. As he closed his eyes and rubbed it, he let out a long, exhausted exhale. Bridget suddenly understood what her scene inside could cost Adrian, and she felt the rest of her fight fade.
“Adrian, I am sorry,” she sighed, fidgeting with her fingers. “For not keeping my composure. When I saw all those men in there, with those women in their laps, something inside me just… broke. To realize that this is the sort of man my husband truly is, it is… it is…”
She reached for a proper word, but none felt quite accurate. She was not heartbroken. Her heart had given up long ago. Offended? Ashamed? Yet those did not seem quite accurate either.
“I just thought… I just thought for a moment that all men were the same,” she muttered.
“Not all men are like that,” Adrian said quietly.
Bridget glanced up at him and found him staring intently down at her.
“Men like that are despicable,” he agreed in a matter-of-fact tone. “But aside from finding my brother’s murderer, I have no use for establishments such as these. And if I were married… especially to a woman such as you, I would never demean her by stepping foot inside one.”
Bridget’s brows raised in surprise.
“You would not?” she asked.
Adrian shook his head as he took another step closer to her. Heat crackled between them, too comforting for her to want tostop such closeness. She was tired. Embarrassed. Adrian’s words sank through it all, taking away a little bit of the emotion.
“You are aremarkablewoman. I barely know you, yet I know that,” Adrian replied. “I am sorry, Bridget. I am sorry that your husband treats you this way. But I am not like him. Nor am I like those men in there, and I will not allow you to lump me in with such foul creatures.”
Bridget’s shoulders drooped as she felt a sliver of guilt move through her.
She had not expected such a compliment to come out during such an intense argument. Yet his words soothed her emotional wounds.
“I apologize for saying such things,” she whispered, bowing her head. “I know that not all people are the same. I am not myself these days, and I do not know how to handle the rage inside me.”
Bridget gasped softly as she felt Adrian’s fingertips caress her jaw. Her body grew warmer, and he gently tilted her chin upward until her eyes met his.
“You have every right to feel that rage,” he said quietly. “And you should stop apologizing.” His mouth curved grimly. “You possess more dignity and strength in one finger than those men possess altogether.”
Bridget felt a mutual attraction pulse between them as she heard Adrian’s praise, and her awareness of it made her cheeks flush with shame. If Adrian was right, then she would not be having such a strong reaction to a man who was not her husband. Especially a man whom she had only just met the day before.
She placed her hands on his chest, ignoring the way sparks sizzled in her palms as she touched him, and pressed him away from her. To both her relief and chagrin, Adrian obliged and dropped his hands from the brick wall. Bridget immediately missed the heat of his body, the sense of safety and comfort his intense proximity brought.
“Forgive me if I overstepped,” he said, concern creasing his brow.
“No,” she answered quickly. “I am just exhausted.”
It was the truth. Not just in body, but in mind and spirit. She wanted to crawl into bed and not come out for a week, but if Warren was not in London, she would have to continue the awful search for him tomorrow. Bridget thought of what William had told her earlier, about the mistress Warren kept in a house outside London. The thought of going to that woman’s home and confronting her made her stomach churn violently.
“Let me take you home,” Adrian said, his tone gentle. He reached for her arm as if to guide her, then, as if he thought better of it, he pulled away and tucked his hands behind his back.
“You have had an extremely perplexing day.”
“And I shall have another one tomorrow,” Bridget said with a sigh.
