Pressing her lips together, she glanced about as if nervous others might hear.She then lowered her voice and leaned a bit closer to him.“I gave up on the riding habit ages ago, choosing instead to wear breeches.”
“Why, Miss Carmichael.”The warmth in his voice was like melted chocolate – decadent and smooth.“I must confess, I never would have taken you for a hoyden.”
An embarrassed chuckle accompanied an averted look.“I’m really not.”
“Boxing, and riding while dressed in men’s clothes?”He crossed his arms and swept her from head to toe with a gaze so forceful it felt like he’d physically touched her.“I beg to differ.But that’s not a bad thing.On the contrary, it sets you apart from all the rest, and that makes you all the more intriguing.”
Heat flooded her cheeks and something inside her – a place buried deep behind her breastbone – expanded.She tamped down the feeling with stern resolve even as her lips twitched with humor.“Not nearly as intriguing as you, I’ll wager.”
His eyes flashed, darkening just enough to warn her that they were no longer chatting like new acquaintances, but flirting.
Aware that she’d ventured too far from shore, she grabbed her glass and took a quick sip, then turned more fully toward him and mimicked his posture.
“It surprised me not to find you at Reed’s this past week,” she said, her tone light and casual.
“I was away at my country estate for most of it.”
“Oh, how lovely.Is it far?”She asked the question even though she already knew the answer.
“It’s a good day and a half’s ride by carriage.”
“Did you grow up there?”Again, a needless question for her to ask.
“Until I was ten.After that, my time was mostly spent here under my father’s tutelage.Unlike Mama, he preferred London to Deerhaven.Always claimed the countryside bored him.”
“How doyoufeel about it?”
He gave her a curious look.“I believe you might be the first person ever to ask me that.”
“Forgive me.I didn’t mean to pry.”
“It’s fine.”He cleared his throat.“Honestly, I favor the peace and quiet the countryside offers.I’d actually hoped to move to a more secluded location, but now, with my sister dead and…”
His gaze shifted toward the garden, staring through the darkness with a vacant look that suggested the only thing he saw right now was a memory.
An unexpected needle-sharp pain pierced Samantha’s heart.Mr.Croft appeared emotionally distraught, completely unlike the hardened criminal Kendrick and Harlowe insisted he was.
Could they be wrong?
She reminded herself that it wasn’t her place to question either of them.Her task was to carry out orders.And yet, a small, irritating part of her that had sprung to life the moment they’d met couldn’t stand to watch Mr.Croft suffer.
Not on account of a cruel injustice enacted against him and his lovely sister.The vigilante inside her demanded the scoundrel be found and punished, regardless of who Mr.Croft might be or what he’d done in the past.
Besides, tracking the murderer down could help forge a bond between them.
“I realize this is a sensitive subject,” she whispered, “so please let me know if I’m overstepping, but I’m curious to know if Bow Street have any leads regarding your sister’s killer.”
“Not as far as I know,” he said, speaking to the emptiness beyond the terrace.
“Have you considered looking into it yourself?”When he didn’t respond, she told him, “Your sister was the fourth victim.It might make sense to start at the very beginning in order to know the murderer’s original motive.”
Mr.Croft’s gaze slowly met hers.The earlier hints of mischief were lost behind a stern façade.His change in demeanor almost made her regret having given up on the flirting, which was also the most straightforward path to her goal.
But such a course was not one she felt comfortable with on account of her inexperience.Then again, a lack of experience would in all likelihood prove an asset in this instance.Given the role she was meant to play, it would seem more genuine if she appeared a touch shy and uncertain regarding such matters.
Mr.Croft stared at her, almost as though he needed a second to bring her back into focus.Ignoring her question and the point she’d just made, he asked instead, “Would you do me the honor of dancing with me?”
His voice matched the somber mood that had settled upon them the moment he’d mentioned his sister.It filled the space between them and rather than push her away, it lured her.
