Adrian’s head swiveled toward Bridget so fast he felt apopin his neck as Penny’s eyes widened and her lips parted. Bridget had not only stated his purpose so very casually, but she had also referred to the Earl astheirhusband, as if she almost found his deceit comical!
“I believe you should invite us in,” Bridget stated coolly. “We have much to discuss. He is here, is he not?”
Just then, thunder clapped loudly from above, and rain began to descend in heavy sheets toward the earth. As if she took the storm as an omen, Penny opened the door wider and stepped aside to let them in.
Adrian watched as Bridget held her head high as she stepped through the threshold, and without a word, he followed her inside. The home, he quickly realized, was not as lavish as the noble estates in London were, but the space was clean and decorated with feminine touches.
“I am afraid Warren is not here,” Penny stated as she led them through a small foyer and into a vast kitchen. He watched asshe picked up a tea towel and swung the kettle hanging from the hearth’s fire.
“Tea?” she asked.
“No, thank you,” Bridget answered stiffly, taking a seat at the plain, round wooden table in the center of the room.
Penny’s eyes flicked to Adrian, and he shook his head. Whiskey, God yes, but tea would not soothe over the tension gathered between the three of them.
Penny shrugged and brought the kettle to the counter to prepare a cup for herself.
“I had thought this moment would come with hatred and threats,” Penny confessed as she busied herself. “And I must admit that the lack of such has me taken quite by surprise.”
“So you knew about me. Knew Warren was married. Yet you still wanted to be with him?” Bridget asked.
Penny threw a pensive glance over her shoulder toward Bridget, then nodded.
“A girl like me does not have many options,” she stated, going back to preparing her tea. “Too pretty for a farmer’s wife, yet too common to be a nobleman’s wife. At least as a mistress to one, there is a certain sort of protection.”
“Do you love each other?” Bridget asked.
Adrian’s brows furrowed as Penny came to the table. He had become rather good at taking control of situations, yet he found himself once more in one that Bridget had taken the reins over.
Penny sighed, focusing on her teacup. “I do not even know if such a thing truly exists. There is comfort, and perhaps that is alla woman can experience in this life.”
She flicked her eyes to Bridget, who, Adrian once again noticed, was focused more on the woman’s brooch.
“Do you love him?” Penny asked.
“No,” Bridget answered, and the truth in her voice struck an odd chord of relief in Adrian’s chest.
“I am not here out of love scorned,” Bridget went on, “I am here because the whispers of Warren’s reputation have risen to shouts since he has gone missing, and such a thing has begun to affect my way of life.”
Penny’s eyes moved back to Adrian’s.
“And is such shouting about your brother?” Penny asked, her tone timid.
Adrian felt a pang in his chest as he shook his head.
“No,” he replied, “I have kept such a theory private until I can gather more evidence. Which is why I need to find him and speak with him.”
“You make it sound as if such a discussion would be so cordial,” Penny remarked, bringing her cup of tea to her lips.
Adrian’s hand clenched atop the table as he ground his teeth together.
“I assure you, madam, it will not,” he gritted out.
She studied them for a long moment as she held her teacup in her hands, as if trying to decide what to do.
“I have sometimes wondered if Warren was capable of such violence,” she murmured, setting her cup down. “There have been times when he has come to me in horrid states. Reeking of spirit and shouting threats.”
Adrian leaned forward in his seat, his heartbeat quickening.
