“You have evidence of this?” Peter asked, a little put out by Carver’s unwavering conviction when he himself had struggled to find the proof.
“That’s what you were meant to provide, isn’t it?” Carver leaned forward, pinning Peter with a sharp stare. “Who gave the order for you to stand down?”
It took great effort for Peter to resist the urge to tug at his cravat when it felt like a noose had been dropped around his neck. Refusing to betray anyone, he held histongue while searching his brain for something clever to say.
But Carver immediately shifted his gaze to Sir Nigel. “As his superior, I expect it was you.”
Sir Nigel made a choked sort of sound, half cough half wheeze. “Yes, my lord. I…um…was of the opinion that backing off a little would encourage Croft to form a trusting bond with his wife. The…um…idea…” He spread his hands wide and blinked a few times before saying, “Was that this would compel him to become laxer in her presence. Which I hoped might allow her to move about more freely and find what she needed once given the order to resume her mission.”
“While I will admit your theory does have some merit, it’s the sort of ploy that requires more time than I am prepared to sacrifice on this effort.” Carver pushed out his chin, affecting the look of a greyhound preparing to chase down a rabbit. “Viscount Stanton sent a couple of men to reason with Croft last month in the hope of reacquiring whatever information he believed Croft’s father had gathered on him. Those men are now missing. It’s Stanton’s belief that Croft killed them. He’s also convinced Croft murdered his son, Mr. Clive Newton, and insists something be done to remove Croft from Society.”
“If Stanton had concerns about information Croft might have on him,” Peter mused, “does it not stand to reason that it was the damning sort? In which case I cannot help but wonder why we would help him.”
“It is because,” the prince said with an almost boredair of superiority, “no matter what information Croft has acquired on Stanton, it is not for him to use in his quest for power. Nor is it up to him to dispose of people as he sees fit. If everyone were to do as he does, Society would crumble. Which is why we leave the matter of passing judgement to the courts.”
“Exactly so,” Carver agreed. “We cannot have men like Croft taking the law into their own hands. If Stanton is right – if Croft did kill his son and make it look like self-murder – then he deserves to face the consequence of his actions. And in a fair and reasonable world, he would do so. The problem is that he’s gained enough money and leverage to weave his way out of trouble. Which is why we need irrefutable proof of guilt. The more the better.”
Happy to be officially told that the mission was once more in progress, Peter reached for his cup and pretended to like the tea he’d been served. “I’ll inform my agent at once and make sure she provides it.”
Having parted ways with Kendrick after their meeting at Carlton House, Nigel hastened to another lavish residence nearby. The butler there showed him into a lovely parlor painted in light blue tones. The furniture was upholstered in shades of white and ivory, the matching curtains falling softly alongside the tall beveled glass windows that overlooked a lush garden.
Shifting uncomfortably in the chair he’d selected,Nigel contemplated his need to shed a few pounds. Modern furniture wasn’t suited to his large frame. He much preferred the baroque style his wife had used throughout their home.
Nigel huffed. The man he’d come to visit had yet to honor him with his presence. It took nearly an hour for him to arrive, by which time Nigel’s right foot had fallen asleep.
Grunting, he pushed himself out of his chair and greeted his host. “I realize my presence here is likely unwelcome, but I thought you should know that my hand has been forced. I’m no longer able to assist you in your endeavor. Orders have come directly from Carver who has the Prince Regent’s blessing. We’re to resume our take down of Croft.”
Assessing eyes stared at him from beneath a pair of prominent eyebrows. “Was my name mentioned?”
“No. I explained that we were trying to avoid raising Croft’s suspicions while helping his wife acquire the freedom of movement she’ll need in order to smuggle evidence out of the house. I’m sorry, but with Carver keeping a watchful eye on the goings on, there’s little I can do to stop Kendrick from pursuing Croft in earnest. He’s like a bloodhound who’s just been unleashed.”
Nigel’s host grunted his response and crossed to the window. He stared at the scenery beyond. “Return to Bow Street, Sir Nigel. Do your job as best you can to avoid garnering any suspicion. I’ll see what I can do to prevent Croft’s downfall.”
“And my son?” A tremor caught Nigel’s voice as he posed the question.
“Keep your head down. Don’t speak to anyone of our involvement, and he’ll be fine. I give you my word.”
Sir Nigel’s shoulders sagged with relief. He bid the man a good day and departed, his step slightly lighter than when he’d arrived.
Still standing by the parlor window, the gentleman, watched the chief magistrate lumber toward his carriage. The vehicle dipped as he hoisted himself inside. A pitiful reflection of what British law enforcement had to offer these days.
The gentleman shoved his hands into his pockets, his attention no longer on Sir Nigel but rather on the news he’d imparted. He hated the idea of causing more damage to Croft’s life. Eliminating his sister had been necessary. But he couldn’t stand idly by while his wife worked to destroy him.
Though evidence did suggest she’d come to care for her husband, he knew it was likely an act intended to help her achieve her goal. She was like a jungle cat taking a lazy afternoon nap until it was time to resume the hunt.
It was regrettable that he liked her as well as he did. Because if it came to a choice between her and Croft, there was no question as to which of the two he’d remove from the playing field.
22
It took Peter Kendrick a little over an hour to reach Clearview. He’d hailed a hackney immediately after leaving Carlton House and told the driver to take him straight there. Excitement thrummed through his body. It was good to receive clear instructions.
There was also the satisfaction of watching Sir Nigel squirm. His explanation pertaining to his reason for halting attempts to go after Croft had sounded like a botched piece of theatre.
Peter wondered about this extensively during his ride. He didn’t believe for one second that Sir Nigel had allied himself with Croft. In fact, he’d assumed the very people they’d met with just now had been behind the decision to leave Croft alone. But that was clearly not the case.
Which begged the question, what the hell was Sir Nigel up to and what was his motivation behindprotecting a man as dangerous as they believed Croft to be?
He’d come no closer to figuring it out when the carriage pulled up in front of Harlowe’s sprawling estate. Kendrick ordered the driver to wait, assuring him he’d pay for his time, and approached the front door.
