Only Viscount Ottersburg had departed, but his hair was red, not brown. He also seemed too old to be scaling walls and climbing through bedchamber windows. Besides which, he did not have a limp.
It was nearing two in the morning by the time Adrian left, no wiser than when he’d arrived. Several of the club’s members had hair that might have matched the shade of the strand found underneath Lady Eleanor’s nail. But he’d watched each one as they’d stood from their chairs and walked. None was impaired in any way, which could only mean that the murderer hadn’t been present.
Not much to go on, but enough to strike a couple of gentlemen from the list Orendel had provided. Of course, White’s wasn’t the only gentlemen’s club. There were also Brook’s and Boodle’s. He’d have to look into the men who frequented those establishments too.
For now, however, he’d head on home where he’d hopefully get some sleep before dealing with his wife.
6
Samantha savored the peace and quiet of the dining room while enjoying her breakfast. It had been a relief not having to face Adrian immediately after Kendrick’s visit. She’d been worried it would lead to an argument between them last night. When she’d realized he wouldn’t be coming home for dinner, she’d allowed herself to relax.
And had managed to do so to some extent until he came to join her. He entered the room, the edge of his lips pulling upward the moment his dark gaze settled upon her. “Good morning.”
She greeted him in return even as uncomfortable shivers danced over the nape of her neck.
There was something especially predatory about his energy today. Something dark and dangerous – a threat that made her stomach clench.
He slid into his seat at the head of the table, allowedher to pour him a cup of coffee. A murmured, “Thank you,” before he picked up the morning paper, neatly folded next to his plate.
Samantha’s muscles uncurled like a frightened creature daring to come out of hiding. She allowed herself to breathe. Her pulse started to slow. A sip of hot tea helped quiet her nerves even further.
He turned a page, the fluttery crispness filling the silence between them. And then, just when she’d started to think he would not choose to strike at this moment, “There’s a matter I wish to discuss with you after breakfast.”
Every part of her drew tight at once. “Pertaining to?”
He didn’t so much as glance her way, his attention remaining on the news. “I’m sure you can guess.”
Of course she could. Her heart was already bouncing against her breast. It was the strangest thing. She’d never been truly frightened before, not even when Wycliff had made her return the favor she’d owed him and she’d had to fight off those lethal thugs. Her training had kept her mind calm.
But now…
It felt like there was so much more at stake. Because she cared. Despite her best efforts to the contrary, her heart belonged to Adrian. Knowing her actions had jeopardized his feelings for her was crushing. Worse was not knowing where it might lead.
She’d betrayed him and he knew it. Thus far, he’d at least let her live. Had even allowed her to remain at Croft House. But all of that might be about to change.
A feeling of dread whispered through her. The future of their relationship hinged on what she decided to tell him. One mistake and she’d lose him forever, unless of course, she’d already lost him.
The painful notion not only speared her but made her resent every order she’d ever received. So many lies and deceptions. And for what? Where had it led her? Not to the goal Harlowe or Kendrick intended, but to an understanding that left her stranded behind enemy lines.
Because that was better than placing her bets on the man who’d raised her – who’d had no qualms about making her lower herself for a cause she’d started to question. Harlowe had betrayed her trust in him as thoroughly as she’d betrayed Adrian’s trust in her, if not more. So she’d made her choice, clawing her way into Adrian’s life like a wounded kitten looking for sanctuary in a wolf’s den.
No regret there. Her heart had been true and full of hope. It would remain so now. Anything less would result in failure.
She drank some more tea while sending her husband a wary glance, and prayed he’d listen to what she intended to tell him.
Even though he’d sent all the servants out, Adrian shut the door to his study, closing himself away from the world, together with Samantha. Muscles tight inanticipation of what had to happen and where it would lead, he sent her an assessing look. She was like a cat preparing to fight, her posture tense, eyes slightly narrowed.
“Have a seat.” He swept his hand toward one of the chairs.
“I’d rather stand.”
Defiance carved her expression. He held her gaze for a long-drawn-out moment, accepting her challenge. It was time to begin.
Stepping away from the door, he kept his pace deliberately slow while moving toward her. “I was twelve years old when my father asked me to join him in the basement for the first time – in the room behind the stairs, the one you inquired about. An associate of his had stolen from him. Not an especially large sum, but a theft nonetheless.”
He halted before her, allowed a slight smile when she raised her chin.
“My father told me to break the man’s fingers. Only I couldn’t make myself do it. The sounds I expected to hear and the guilt that would surely follow paralyzed me. So Papa did the deed in my stead, forcing me to endure the crunch of bone and the screams of pain. It was a hellish nightmare from which there was no waking up. But he explained himself to me, clarified the importance of loyalty and what must happen if anyone ever betrayed it.”
