As Lady Aldridge rang the bell, Jack turned back to Lady Prudence. “I’m sorry this happened. It must have been frightening.”
“Yes, it was. Thank you.” Her voice sounded hollow as she sank back onto the sofa beside her great-grandmother.
On his way here, Jack had thought long and hard about what he might reveal to them. Nothing he had discovered was likely to reassure them, but they deserved to know. He sat and cleared his throat. “Before we begin, there is something you should know. Lady Aldridge. You may have gathered that I work for the Crown as an agent.”
Lady Aldridge lifted her eyebrows. “Please go on, Lord Hereford.”
“Firstly, we have a suspect for Lord Sedgwick’s murder. He is at present being watched.”
Lady Prudence gasped. “Can you not arrest him?”
“We believe he was hired by someone to carry out the shooting and we hope he will lead us to that man.”
“Oh,” Lady Prudence said in a small voice.
“Let’s hope that he does and soon,” Lady Aldridge said crisply. “My great-granddaughter remains vulnerable while this man is free.”
Jack leaned forward, his hands on his knees, his gaze on Lady Prudence. “Can we go through everything that happened last night?”
Obviously reluctant to revisit the terrifying ordeal, she shivered, a hand flying to her chest. She was exhausted and very pale, with dark circles under her eyes. What had happened to this spirited young woman to make her so frightened made his blood boil. The need to help her, to make things right for her nagged insistently at him. He yearned to take her away, keep her safe. Had he lost his mind? He’d never allowed a woman to get close enough for him to take a chance on her. Women weren’t to be trusted. Hadn’t his own mother taught him that? He stiffened his shoulders, annoyed with himself for this unfamiliar feeling, and decided he would do whatever he could to help her, and then move on with other matters demanding his attention. He folded his arms as Lady Prudence began to speak.
Chapter Eleven
Prue watched JackRoss over the dining table. He was a spy. An agent for the Crown. While she’d suspected he might work for the Bow Street Magistrate’s court or some other government department, she’d never considered him to be a spy. A rake, perhaps, but a spy? Her spirits dropped further. Marriage to the right woman might reform a rake, but not a spy. They lived in a different world, one that she could never be part of.
She studied him over the dining table. He seemed to exude an element of danger, and he had never seemed more attractive to her. She could not stop imagining what it would be like to be his lover. Well… she picked up her glass and took a large sip of Madeira, she would never know, and it was best not to yearn for the impossible. But her instincts had proven correct when she’d decided to trust him. With furrowed brow, his eyes met Prue’s. “Can you tell me anything more? What about the man who broke into your bedchamber? Did you see him?”
Prue paused, trying to think. Her leaden weariness began to lighten. She must be brave. He would help her; he was so big and strong and so capable. “No…” She put down her wineglass. “I’m not sure if this is important, but when he came close to where I was hiding, I smelled his soap.”
“Can you describe it?”
“It would have been pleasant in different circumstances. But breathing it in along with the dusty air in the cupboard had made me fear I’d sneeze and give myself away. It smelled of orange, but with a sour tinge to it.”
He nodded. “Sounds like bergamot oil. Many gentlemen use the cologne. I do on occasion.”
She stared at him. “Is it expensive?”
“It would be seen as a luxury item.” He rubbed his chin. “It seems unlikely this fellow we have under watch could afford it. He is no gentleman.” His smile encouraged her. “Anything else come to mind?”
Prue shook her head. “I was too frightened. I thought he’d soon find me. And he would have if some noise hadn’t scared him away.”
“We shall apprehend this man, I promise you. But in the meantime, you must take precautions. An armed footman should always accompany you.”
Prue glanced at Gramma. “Yes, one stayed outside my bedchamber door for the rest of the night. I am now in a bedchamber next to Gramma’s.”
He nodded. “Good.”
“Are you confident that this man you have found is my father’s killer?” she asked uneasily.
“I am sure of it, Lady Prudence.”
“Then why hasn’t he been arrested?”
“We must first find out who paid him to do it. This man was merely the instrument, a killer hired by someone who wanted your father dead.”
“Then it wasn’t for revenge, was it? Or for the desire to kill. It must have been to stop my father from doing something. Or to silence him.”
“Yes, I agree. And that is why we need to find the man behind it.” He shifted his gaze to the cheese knife in his hand. “What about his heir?”
