“I’d rather you issue a challenge,” Adrian said, his voice dangerously low, brimming with menace.
“Someone call the chief constable,” Lundquist insisted.
Several men leapt into motion, only to halt at the sound of Miss Carmichael’s voice.“Gentlemen.Marquess.Let’s be rational for a moment.If you please.”
“Rational?”Lundquist gaped at Miss Carmichael for a brief moment and suddenly laughed before pointing a rigid finger at Adrian.“He just assaulted me.”
“Mr.Croft’s sister was recently murdered, my lord.”Miss Carmichael’s voice was firm.“It’s normal for him to look for her killer in every man he meets.Can we not try to sympathize with him a little?”
Uncertain glances flittered around the room as though seeking a place to land.Adrian straightened, his rage fading enough for him to stay still.The hold on his arms and shoulders lessened.He fixed his gaze on Miss Carmichael, anchoring himself to her until the last of the storm had passed.
Only then did he look at the marquess once more.“I am not the one in the wrong here, Lundquist.In fact, I believe there’s a good chance you were the last one to see Miss Fairchild alive.”
A series of horrified gasps underscored the severity of what Adrian suggested.
Lundquist’s brow dipped.When he spoke next, his voice was quiet.“You think I killed her.”
Not necessarily, but it was a possibility Adrian had to examine more closely.“You were romancing Miss Fairchild before she died,” he stated, the flicker of apprehension in Lundquist’s eyes spurring him on.“But you were jealous.You wanted her all to yourself and forced her to cut ties with anyone you deemed a threat.When she refused, you became so incensed that you—”
“No.”The sharp word echoed through the still room, so loud it took several seconds for it to fade.Lundquist stood, anger etched in every strained line of his face as he stepped up to Adrian.He leaned a bit closer, just enough to whisper in his ear.“Have a care, Croft.Her parents are here.”
“I imagine they’d want the truth too.”
“Not the kind you’re about to uncover.”A pause followed and then Lundquist stepped back, a meaningful look in his eyes.“Miss Carmichael is correct.You deserve compassion after all you’ve been through, especially since you’ve not taken the time to mourn.I suggest you do so now.Take a sojourn from Society until you’re more yourself.”
“The marquess is more forgiving than I would have been,” Eldridge remarked when Adrian hesitated.“You should take his advice, Croft.”
He was being put in his place.Boxed in.By the very man he’d begun to believe might be guilty.
Unless he wasn’t.The shock and confusion with which the marquess responded did not fit a man who’d done as Adrian alleged.
Maybe in his rage, his need to find a target upon which to pin his grief and vanquish his childhood demons, he’d leapt to conclusions, creating connections that didn’t exist for the sole purpose of satisfying his own bloodlust.
Adrian stared at Lundquist and as he did so, he became increasingly conscious of his decelerating heartbeats.His breaths slowed, the tension in his shoulders abated, and he gradually unclasped his fists.
This wasn’t the kind of justice Evie deserved.There were still too many questions in need of answers.The irrefutable evidence required to send a man to the gallows on murder charges was lacking.
He gave a curt nod of agreement.Stepping back, taking a moment to gather his thoughts was indeed wise.Behaving like a lunatic would only ensure that the rest of the world viewed him as such.It would hamper his investigation, perhaps even make the killer more careful when this was the last thing Adrian wanted.
Shit.
He’d lost control and in doing so he’d revealed too much.
“Forgive me.”Without uttering anything else, he strode for the door, not pausing until he’d reached it.Only then did he dare to glance back, just in time to catch Mr.Owen Newton escorting Miss Carmichael back to her chair.
The chatter started to ease, though several scolding gazes remained upon him.Lundquist spoke to his sister, who sent Adrian an uneasy look before glancing away.Low talking could still be heard despite the bustle of people returning to their respective seats.Someone coughed and all remaining sound dispersed.
The music resumed, dragging attention toward the front of the room, and it was as if Adrian hadn’t been there at all.
He turned from the scene and went to find his carriage.Time to get the hell out of here before he did something truly stupid, like whisk Miss Carmichael away with him.
25
“What in blazes were you thinking?”Harlowe demanded as he and Samantha were on their way home from the Midhursts’ house.He scowled at her from the opposite side of the carriage.“We could have accomplished our goal this evening and gotten Croft behind bars.Hell, he did the work for you when he attacked Lundquist.It was perfect.Untilyouchose to defend him.Makes me wonder if you might have started believing the role you’re playing – convinced yourself you’re actually falling for him.”
Samantha bristled.“I could never care for a man who encourages women to pay back the debts they owe him by whoring themselves.”
But she could care for one who would hunt down his sister’s murderer and make sure he paid for his crime, who’d quietly left a single rose of remembrance, and whose loss was felt in every fiber of his being.
