“He was found three days ago,” Damien explained, lowering himself back down to his own seat. “Stabbing most likely, but no one is confirming the exact cause. Warren’s younger brother identified the body. As for who? No one knows, but Quinten, that sod, was apparently very willing to speak to the investigators and mentioned you. That is why I have been out of my mind looking for you!”
Adrian tensed. The stabbing had occurred the very morning he returned to London, and he had no witnesses to prove his whereabouts. His mind had been too abuzz with thoughts andfeelings for Bridget, so instead of going to his estate, he had Bran drop him off at one of the apartments he owned on the outskirts of Mayfair.
“Apologies, old friend,” Adrian offered, grimacing at the worried yet angry look on Damien’s face. “It was not my intention to worry you or anyone else. I just needed a few days to think.”
Damien continued to stare intensely at him.
“Was it you? Did you kill Winslow? If you did, I would not blame you, but I cannot help protect you if you do not tell me the truth.”
Adrian slowly shook his head.
“I swear on my brother’s grave it was not me,” he replied. “If I had been the one to find Winslow, I would have sent Bran to fetch you right away. I know that questioning him meant as much to you as it did to me.”
Damien let out a long sigh, looking as if he was trying to rein in his frustration a little.
“Well, where have you been then? I thought you were only going to be in Alfriston for a day? What happened there? Did you find the mistress?”
Adrian rubbed his jaw, feeling the scruff that he so surely needed to shave off. Then he grimaced, fathoming what a state he must look like. He had not changed or bathed since his night with Bridget, mostly because her scent had clung to him when he had held her in bed. He had been raising his shirt to his nose every so often ever since, the fading scent providing a soothing balm over his frayed thoughts and nerves.
“Nothing of import,” Adrian replied, keeping Bridget’s secret for her. “I found his mistress, but he was not there and had not beenin several weeks. The mistress had no leads on where else he could be.”
He looked to Damien, who was studying him with great scrutiny.
“You are not telling me something,” Damien stated.
“I am telling you what is important,” Adrian replied, growing defensive. “Now go on, what else have you learned about Winslow?”
Damien’s eyes narrowed suspiciously as he worked his jaw back and forth.
“Elara has completed the task you gave her with absolute gusto,” Damien finally went on. “She has blended in quite well with the gossips of this town and has learned that Warren’s brother, Victor, plans to take overeverythingthat was his.”
Adrian narrowed his eyes, a dark feeling settling into the wells of his chest.
“What do you mean byeverything?”he asked.
Damien was quiet for a moment, suddenly looking wary.
“Your sister tells me that Victor has stated his intentions to marry Winslow’s widow. From what I understand, he has sold almost everything in the Winslow London Estate to pay off his brother’s debts and has taken up residence there.”
He paused, clearing his throat.
“Where Lady Winslow is currently also residing.”
For a moment, Adrian’s thoughts spiraled. He knew Bridget had felt trapped and lonely within her marriage to Winslow. Surely that meant she would not jump into another marriage, to a manso like her husband, so quickly? He needed more information, and he needed it immediately.
“Where is my sister now?” Adrian demanded, standing up.
“Where do you think?” Damien asked, rising with him, “She is at home. Now, where are you going? We have much to discuss. With this lead to Evander’s killer gone, we have to start looking elsewhere for information! We cannot just drop this for some woman, Adrian. We have worked too hard!”
Adrian ignored him, even though part of him knew that Damien was right. He could not think about that now, though. He had to find out more about Bridget. More importantly, he had to ensure that the feeling in his gut was wrong.
A feeling that told him that Bridget was in danger.
Chapter 17
“You wear black so well, my darling.”
Bridget looked up from her untouched plate of dinner, her body growing tense as she found Victor standing behind Warren’s chair at the head of the table. Seeing him made the knot in her stomach grow worse. She had been trying her best to avoid him since he had moved into the estate, but it seemed no matter where she went, he was always there.
