Adrian gave her a stern look and shook his head.
“You cannot be saying that you will be out on this side of the city again tomorrow?” he asked.
“No,” Bridget answered. “I have one more clue as to where my husband might be. I discovered earlier today that my husband has a mistress in Alfriston. I shall be going there.”
Adrian’s gentleness with her hardened in a second.
“You are only telling me this now?” he asked with a tone of frustration. “Where in Alfriston? What is her name? Where exactly does she live?”
Bridget felt her annoyance for the man’s dominating nature surge through the brief feelings of attraction she had had for him, and glowered at him.
“You will watch how you speak to me, Your Grace,” she warned. “I am thankful for your help this evening, but that does not earn you the right to speak to me so gruffly.”
Adrian’s jaw worked back and forth as he gritted his teeth and glared at her with those piercing blue eyes for another minute, then he drew in a sharp inhale through his nostrils and exhaled through his parted, chiseled lips.
“Apologies,” he offered gruffly. “Still, I insist you answer my questions. Do not forget that I, too, have a need to find your husband, and every lead I manage to gather counts heavily.”
Bridget felt a tinge of guilt as Adrian reminded her of his brother’s death. Yes, she was a woman scorned by her husband, but Adrian was a man seeking justice for a heinous crime. She supposed his need to find Warren outweighed her own.
“All I know is that she is situated in a large cobblestone house along the River of Cuckmere. I am told that it is a little away from the rest of the small hamlet,” she answered.
“That is more than enough,” Adrian murmured, and then this time, he did take hold of her arm.
“Thank you. Now come, it truly is time to get you out of here.”
Bridget obliged, feeling a note of disappointment as his hand slipped away from her arm as they left the alley and walked out onto the main street. At her carriage, Adrian opened her door for her, and she stepped inside. Just as she got seated, though, she reached for the door as it closed, and stopped him.
“When are we departing for Alfriston tomorrow?” she asked.
Adrian’s brow flew up in surprise as his entire body stiffened.
“We?”he asked.
“Well, I am coming with you,” Bridget replied, not sure what to make of his guarded body language.
Adrian’s blue eyes darkened as he leaned into the carriage; the intense look in his eyes made her heartbeat race.
“Weare not going anywhere together anymore,” he stated. His tone low. Commanding. Wickedly deep.
Bridget swallowed, her hand feathering to her throat where she felt her pulsing jugular.
“Why not?” she asked.
Adrian’s eyes very slowly drew down her body, making her feel naked and exposed despite the cloak wrapped tightly around her form.
“The fierceness you showed today did something to me,” he answered, his tone almost reverent as his gaze made its way back to her eyes. “I have never seen anything like it.”
Bridget’s breath grew raspy as his words sent a shiver of desire down her spine. Not once had she ever been paid such a compliment.
“Did my behavior upset you?” she asked, barely above a whisper.
Adrian shook his head once, slowly, as if each movement cost him something.
“No,” he murmured. He leaned closer then—so close that she could feel the warmth of his breath brush her lips, close enough that her body responded before her mind could catch up. His hands curled into fists at his sides, knuckles whitening as though he were holding himself back by sheer force of will. “And that is precisely the problem.”
Her pulse thundered as he held himself there, suspended on the edge of something dangerous.
“I am drawn to it,” he continued, his voice roughening. “Drawn to you. Like a moth to a flame.” His jaw tightened. “A flame that belongs to another man.”
