She’d kill him for this.
“He gave me one last chance to spill every detail and I…I took it.”
Her hands started to shake. “The last time we met…” A heavy weight settled upon her breast, making each breath a laborious strain. “That was the day after our wedding.” Her voice had grown thin. More than a month, that’s how long Adrian had been aware. She blinked. “Why are you only telling me this now?”
“’Cause I knew I might need it one day as currency.”
There was tragedy to be found in that statement. The fact that a boy his age was forced to think in such terms revealed the unfairness of the world they lived in. She wanted to scream. Adrian knew she’d forced her way into his life, tracked his movements, and spied on him.
While everything about their relationship had made her worry this might be the case, she’d dismissed it as impossible. Because she’d been careful, discreet, though not nearly enough, and now…
Despite the urge to rail at Isak or break her promise to him for what he’d done, she forced herself to tamp down the anger and biting need to punish him further. What Wycliff had already done was more than enough. He deserved some kindness now for all he’d suffered.
And besides, she was the one who’d been careless in her belief that Adrian’s fondness for her would keep her safe, that he’d not have his most trusted servant keep a keen eye on her movements. Foolish, foolish, foolish.
“I’ll figure out something,” she promised Isak. Harlowe might help if she asked for a loan, loath as she was to fall upon his good graces. “Give me a few days to find a solution, all right?”
He nodded. “Lizzy will be at Hyde Park every morning. When you’re ready, you can pass a message to me through her.”
“In the meantime, take this.” She handed him a few coins. “Get yourself a hearty meal, maybe visit a doctor.”
“I’ll take the meal but I’ll not be wasting good coin just to be told that I’ll mend with time.”
“Suit yourself.” Samantha wished him well, then stepped out from under the archway and checked the street. Finding it empty save for the retreating figure of a working-class woman, she walked back to King Street, her thoughts in turmoil.
Good lord. How was she to return home and face her husband?
He knows about you.
Isak’s words rattled around her brain, sending unpleasant jolts down her spine. Apprehension swirled in her stomach. She’d not been the only one playing a part. He’d done the same. The difference was in their timing. She’d quit her role when she’d spoken her vows while he had begun his. Which meant that their marriage thus far was a sham.
Good grief. He must think the worst of her, yet he’d given nothing away. Why?
She reached her address at Number 5 PortmanSquare and climbed the steps leading to the front door. It was opened by Elks, denying her the need to make use of her key. She entered, her attention immediately snared by Adrian’s imposing figure filling the hallway. He stood as though in conversation with Murry.
Both men glanced her way, their gazes assessing. Heart racing with near painful violence, she sent them a smile which neither returned. It felt like running head first into a brick wall.
Adrian dipped his head toward Murry and murmured something she could not hear, then jutted his chin toward his study. The valet vanished and Samantha handed her gloves to Elks before removing her bonnet.
“Pleasant outing?” Adrian inquired, the first he’d spoken to her since their quarrel.
A stale taste filled her mouth. The question, which would have struck her as an attempt at reconciliation before, seemed probing now.
He knows about you.
She wanted to tell him she knew about him as well, get all their cards out in the open, face whatever damage it led to if only to try and move forward. But she stopped herself, afraid a hasty move on her part would not be strategically wise. Everything Harlowe had taught her advised her to think things through – to consider each angle and what the potential outcome might be.
So she forced another smile. “The weather is simplysuperb, which made for an excellent walk. You ought to come with me next time.”
He held her gaze, his expression stony before it transformed into something more welcome in nature. “Maybe I will.” His lips quirked – not exactly a smile but a stalwart attempt at one. “If you’ll please excuse me. I’ve an important matter to discuss with Murry, but I’d like to talk to you later. Perhaps over tea?”
“Sounds lovely.” Her facial muscles were starting to hurt from the effort it took to affect agreeability.
A stiff nod and then he was gone. The door to his study closed behind him with a firm click. She frowned at it and wondered about the conversation taking place on the opposite side. The research she’d conducted on Adrian while he’d been her mark had been thorough. Though he counted Edward Pryce, the Earl of Marsdale, as his closest friend, Murry remained his most trusted ally.
The valet was privy to everything that went on in Adrian’s life. When he’d been attacked by those thugs at Reed’s Boxing Club, Murry had been the one who’d come to help cart them off to whatever fate had awaited them. As evidenced by her conversation with Isak, he was also the one who’d investigated her, whether by his own initiative or because he’d been asked to.
With him fiercely loyal to Adrian, she ought to have anticipated the threat he’d pose to her. But she’d been blinded by whatever romantic notions had flittered about her head after Adrian kissed her for the firsttime. Stupidity was another way of putting it. She’d been unforgivably careless and it had cost her.
