“When is he due to return?” Samantha asked, her voice wooden to her own ears.
“I can’t really say. There’s no set agreement in terms of time. He comes when he’s able, which tends to be three times a week.”
“And in the meantime?” Adrian’s voice was low, casually coaxing. “What do you do?”
A shrug. “I go to rehearsals, perform my shows, and wait.”
“And do you consider yourself to be a good actress?”
“I like to think so.” Words spoken with confidence.
Adrian sent Samantha a meaningful look, encouraging her to say, “Perhaps your skill can help catch a killer.”
Miss Fontaine’s mouth fell open, her eyes wide with shock. “What do you mean?”
Samantha did not mince words while sharing every detail she and Adrian had acquired with Miss Fontaine, for she knew the information would not be well received. Or easily believed.
As expected, Miss Fontaine frowned, the lines deepening with every word Samantha spoke. She shook herhead, disbelief sparking in her eyes, her jaw suddenly rigid. “I don’t believe you. The man I know Mr. Thompson to be is incapable of enacting such brutality.”
“Miss Fontaine,” Adrian tried, “as my wife has just explained, the man you know as Mr. Thompson is someone else entirely. A scoundrel who has lied to you, deceived you in hi—”
“No.” Miss Fontaine stood, her body quivering in outrage. “He has been nothing but good and kind toward me.”
“Of course,” Samantha said. “You provided what he needed – a service with which he found no complaint.”
“What right do you have to judge me?”
“Forgive me. I meant no insult.” Samantha offered a smile. “Considering your comfortable lodgings, it looks like you pleased him greatly.”
“He pleased me too,” Miss Fontaine informed her sharply.
“As such,” Samantha told her, doing her best to sound amicable, “there was no reason for him to be anything other than charming when he came to visit.”
Miss Fontaine stared at Samantha, her stiff arms ending in two clenched fists. “It was wrong of me to invite you in. I’d like you to leave now, please.”
Samantha stood but it was Adrian who said, “We’re telling the truth.”
An incredulous laugh rolled from Miss Fontaine’s lips. “Why should I believe you – two strangers lacking credentials – over someone I know?”
Adrian shared a look with Samantha, as if to say,well?
She licked her lips. Unable to come up with any convincing argument, she said, “You shouldn’t. But maybe you should ask yourself what we stand to gain from telling you such an outrageous lie.”
“I…I don’t know.” Hesitance slackened Miss Fontaine’s features.
“If we are wrong,” Samantha went on, “and the man you’ve been seeing is truly as harmless as you believe him to be, then so be it. But if we are right and he did indeed kill Lady Eleanor Marsh, wouldn’t you want to know?”
“I…” Miss Fontaine swallowed, the fire that blazed in her gaze before now waning – transforming – turning to desperation. “Curse you for coming here.”
Samantha ignored the harsh words. “Will you help us?”
“What choice do I have?” Misery strained her features. “If I don’t, I’ll always wonder from this day on if the man I’ve let into my bed has blood on his hands.”
“I’m sorry,” Adrian muttered.
“You could have fooled me.” Miss Fontaine shifted her gaze between them a few times before she returned to her seat, her body slumped in defeat. “What do you want me to do?”
Adrian did not hesitate in his request. “Summon him for us and we will see who shows up. If it’s the man I expect, we can make sure he pays for his crime.”
