She covered her nose and mouth with her hand as she stepped behind a saddler’s box window with Adrian. From there, they watched Mr. Hutchins retrieve a key from his pocket. The leather she inhaled from her glove was a definite improvement to all the cloying smells.
“What now?” she asked when Mr. Hutchins entered the building and the door closed behind him.
“We wait,” Adrian murmured. He wrapped an arm around her and turned her toward him. “And while we do, we enjoy ourselves a little.”
His mouth settled over hers in a slow kiss that was no less fulfilling. It infused her with warmth, forced away the unpleasant odors of the area – replacing them with his masculine sandalwood scent – and forced her attention to more pleasant things than her aching feet.
It was monumentally improper of them to put on such a display in the street, but she hardly had the frame of mind to care. Being held by her husband, feeling the gentle sweep of his lips as they brushed over hers, the mingling of breath and heat was far too intoxicating for any concerns to distract her.
She curled her fingers more firmly around his neck and reveled in his growl. A satisfied smile slid into place as feminine satisfaction settled deep in her bones. She gave him a teasing nip with her teeth and would have laughed when he muttered a curse had he not caught her mouth in a deeper kiss that nearly denied her of breath.
“Come.” He grabbed her hand and pulled her out of their hiding spot in the next second, causing her head to spin so fast her vision turned blurry for a brief moment.
Tripping in response to the quick change of pace, she tightened her hold on his hand, found her balance, and fell into step beside him. “Where are we going?”
“No idea, but a younger man just left the house. I’m guessing it’s Michael Hutchins.”
Samantha blinked. She couldn’t believe she’d been so lost in their kiss she’d forgotten why they were there. That had never happened before. No one had ever possessed the power to distract her so completely. She glanced at her husband, a little frightened by his ability to do so.
Apparently, it was not an ability she shared since he’d clearly managed to keep all his wits about him. Making a silent note to herself to do better, she strode along, the pain in her feet returning in full force with every step she took.
She did her best to ignore it. No way in hell was this something she would complain about to him. Not when they might be on the trail of the man who’d killed Lady Eleanor.
They followed him at a distance, through winding streets and all the way back across the Thames. Until his goal became clear. He was headed for The Swan with Two Heads, an inn from which several coaches departed daily. The sneaky devil planned to flee the city.
Adrian quickened his stride. “Flank his right side while I flank his left.”
Moving as one, they drew up alongside Michal Hutchins before he reached the inn. He lurched back slightly but Adrian blocked him. “Excuse me, but—”
“Let’s have a chat,” Adrian steered him sideways,away from the inn and toward an alley that ran alongside it. “Tell us what we want to know and you’ll be on your way soon enough. Try to run, and I’ll shoot you dead. Understood?”
Hutchins stammered his agreement and entered the alley on shaky legs. Samantha kept her expression neutral. Shooting a man on a busy street would be the utmost of foolishness. She doubted there was any weight to the threat. Especially since she knew Adrian well enough to say with certainty that he would not kill a man for no good reason. But the warning had the effect he’d probably hoped for.
“We’d like to discuss Lady Eleanor Marsh,” Adrian told him. “Are you aware that she’s dead?”
A quick succession of nods informed them the news had indeed reached Hutchins. Tears filled his eyes. “I…I read about it in the newspaper.”
“Hmm…” Adrian positioned himself so he blocked the exit from the alley. “I’m Mr. Croft. Lady Eleanor’s father has asked me to find the man who killed her. Anything you have to say on the matter could prove useful to our investigation.”
No accusation was made, just a suggestion that they would appreciate his assistance. Samantha relaxed her posture a little, attempting a stance that wouldn’t appear too threatening while maintaining a certain alertness about her.
“It makes no sense to me,” Hutchins cried, his distress evident. “She was—”
“Lovely,” Adrian interrupted. “Wonderful. Kindness itself.”
“Exactly.” Hutchins swallowed and shook his head. “The world is truly worse off without her in it. I…I can’t bear the thought. It’s kept me from rest and from work. All I want to do is sleep. That’s the only reprieve I can find from the pain of knowing I’ll never see her again. It was awful not being able to attend her funeral – to say my final farewell when…”
Samantha stared at Hutchins as he closed his eyes against the onslaught of tears. His anguish appeared quite real. She glanced at Adrian, who wore a frown that might suggest he’d concluded the same. He reached inside his pocket and produced a handkerchief which he handed to Hutchins.
“Thank you.” Hutchins gulped down a breath while wiping his eyes. “Forgive me. There’s nothing worse than watching a grown man weep, though I’ll not be ashamed of it. Eleanor deserves every tear I shed. I loved her beyond all reason.”
“Did she love you in return?” Samantha asked.
“Yes.” He spoke with certainty. Not a shred of doubt in his voice.
“How can you be sure?”
“Because she wanted to marry me.”
