“How should I know?” Orendel, who remained by the door, wore an expression that clearly suggested he’d never been up here before.
Accepting he’d get no help from him, Adrian opened the nightstand drawers and peered inside but found nothing of interest. He went to work on the beds next, searching beneath each pillow, under each mattress,and in the spaces between the mattresses and the bed frames.
Dropping to his knees between the beds, he lowered his head to get a good look underneath each one and was met by a series of storage boxes. He pulled them out one by one and soon figured out from a couple of tucked away letters that Mr. Jones had slept in the bed on the right.
Focusing on the boxes beneath that particular bed, Adrian riffled through them, discovering mostly clothes until he found a small wooden case, haphazardly placed on top of some shirts as though recently used and hastily hidden away.
He sat, pulled the case into his lap, and popped the lid. It contained some writing supplies – a few sheets of foolscap, a quill, some ink, and a seal. Deciding it was unlikely to hold any clues, he prepared to close the box when a marking on one of the pieces of paper snared his graze.
It almost looked as if…
Brow knit, he studied the ghostly traces of handwriting left behind from a previous note Mr. Jones must have written. One word in particular stood out boldly. It was this that had caught his attention. For it wasn’t so much a word as a name.
Eleanor.
Adrian snatched up the paper, pinched it between his fingers, and held it toward the afternoon light falling in through a tiny window. The writing became a bit clearer. Additional words became legible.
I know. Murder. Compensate.
Air hissed down Adrian’s throat. Mr. Jones’ death was beginning to make more sense. He returned everything to where he’d found it but kept the letter.
“I’d like to take this home for further inspection,” he told the earl.
“What is it?”
“A potential clue.” Sensing the earl had additional questions, he said, “If I’m to resolve this matter, I’ll need to speak with your entire household. That includes everyone who was in this house, or who ought to have been, on the night in question. Not only your servants but also your family."
“I know, but…” Orendel’s face twisted, making it clear that he’d managed to hold it together through pure force of will until this exact second.
Sympathizing, Adrian told him softly, “I realize this is a sensitive situation and I respect that, but I cannot help you unless I have all the facts.”
“Understood.” The earl dabbed at his eyes. “Eleanor’s funeral is set for tomorrow. Maybe you can conduct your interviews the day after that?”
Adrian nodded. “Have a message sent round to confirm it. Provide the hour that suits you best and I’ll be here. Just keep in mind this will likely be a lengthy process.”
They parted ways and Adrian set his course for Number 5 Portman Square, a whole other set of issues pressing upon his mind as he neared his home. WouldSamantha be there when he returned or would she be out?
Hands fisted, he stared at the buildings that swept past the carriage window.
It slowly dawned on him that he wasn’t sure which he preferred.
8
Despite the apprehension tying her stomach in knots, Samantha entered the foyer as soon as she heard the front door being opened. She’d spent her return from Clearview House weighing her options and had settled on taking the clearest path forward.
Adrian was the only person upon whom she could depend, but only if she sacrificed everything she had spent most of her life working toward. And only if she turned her back on Harlowe for good.
If she was to win back Adrian’s trust, she’d have to pay a significant price, and even then there was no guarantee it would work. In fact, there was a really good chance he’d never believe in her ever again. But if there was a slim chance he might, she’d have to take it. Anything else would feel too much like failure.
The smile she gave him when he entered the house was mostly for Elk’s benefit, though there was no doubtin her mind all the servants knew she’d fallen out of Adrian’s favor. “I’m hoping you and I can continue our conversation from earlier.”
Adrian stilled so briefly the pause would have gone undetected had she not been paying close attention. He continued removing his gloves. “Is there anything left to be said on that score?”
“A great deal, as it happens.”
“Very well.” His voice was even, devoid of emotion, slightly chilling. “Give me a moment and I’ll meet you in my study.”
She’d rather not but this was her idea, and besides, she was anything but a coward. Funny, how bravely she’d always faced every challenge, yet when it came to confronting her husband, she might as well be heading straight for the gallows. Or worse.
