He’d walked straight into it. With his eyes wide open.
Imbecile.
What was it he’d told himself when he’d found out she wasn’t the innocent woman he’d thought her to be? That he’d never forgive her. And yet, he’d done precisely that, dropping his guard a little bit more with every confession she’d spoken.
She’d made it seem as though she were confiding in him, as though they were on the same side when nothing could have been further from the truth. She’d still been Kendrick’s asset. Everything that had happened just now proved it.
A clammy sensation stole through him, wrappingaround his heart and making it writhe in pain. Not that he’d give her the satisfaction of seeing the damage she’d caused. So he bolstered himself against the crushing force with which she’d destroyed him and forced the fury that lurked beneath to the surface.
This he would give her – anger and hate. Not an inkling of the more tender feelings blooming within his soul.
Had he not known better, he might have believed the chief constable’s presence surprised her. But he wouldn’t make the mistake of trusting her ever again. Once ought to have been enough. He never should have allowed her that second chance. Yet he’d done so anyway, ignoring everything his father had taught him. All because he hadn’t been using his brain.
And look where it had led him.
No way in hell would he deign her with a comment. Not after this. So he held his tongue, broke eye contact with her, and strode to the door. Mr. Shaw would hear of this soon enough, but Adrian knew that even his very astute solicitor wouldn’t be able to help him out of this. Not when Kendrick himself had arrived in time to see him standing over Benjamin Lawrence’s dead body, pistol in hand.
Indeed, there would only be one way out of this mess, and it would be through the hangman’s noose.
“You need to come too,” Kendrick said, his attention returning to Samantha. “So I can have your version of what transpired this evening.”
She glanced toward Adrian, who waited in the stairwell. If he’d wanted to run, he could have. It would have distracted Kendrick and might have given her the chance she needed to overpower him. But Adrian remained compliant, as though the will to fight had been snatched away.
Because he thought she’d betrayed him.
Her gaze returned to Kendrick, assessing, calculating, trying to figure him out. He’d followed her here because he’d known she would try to warn her husband about the threat issued against him. Now he’d know where her loyalty lay and brand her a traitor.
If she went with him, chances were she’d be put in a cell where she would await her sentencing and execution. She flexed her fingers. Whatever his faults, she believed Kendrick would follow procedure. He’d take Adrian straight to Bow Street, then onward to Newgate where he’d await trial. The outcome was certain after what had occurred here this evening. A plan to assassinate him was no longer needed.
Which meant Adrian was safe for the time being.
Her heart settled into a steadier rhythm. She took a step forward as though intending to follow. Kendrick shifted ever so slightly, his attention returning to the man he could not afford to lose track of.
It was a split-second opportunity, and Samantha took it.
Spinning sharply on her heel, she ran, into Miss Fontaine’s parlor where she wasted no time in pulling the window open. She was through it in the next instant and climbing up onto the roof, the curses Kendrick shouted at her giving chase.
34
Peter Kendrick arrived at Orendel House the following morning. He hadn’t slept, having spent the entire night interviewing Croft and writing his report. He’d left it on Sir Nigel’s desk before heading out. There was no way to know if the chief magistrate would be pleased or not when he learned of Croft’s arrest. After all, Sir Nigel had seemed more inclined to protect the man lately than prosecute him.
He stepped up to Orendel House’s front door and gave it a solid knock. The butler granted him entrance and showed him into the parlor where the earl would meet him shortly. Coffee was brought upon request and Kendrick enjoyed a few sips while reflecting on last night’s events.
Letting Mrs. Croft get away was upsetting, but he’d had no choice. As one sole officer on the scene, he couldn’t ensure Croft’s capture while also chasing afterthe man’s wife. So he’d let her go but had wasted no time requesting her capture. The order was already being relayed to every magistrate in the country, and he’d offered a reward of one hundred pounds.
“Does your coming here mean you finally have some news about my daughter’s murder?” Orendel asked when he entered the parlor. “Have you apprehended another suspect?”
The earl knew Mr. Hutchins had been let go and that Bow Street had kept on hunting for the right man.
“It’s not quite that simple, I’m afraid.” Peter waited for Orendel to sit, then told him, “An incident occurred last night. Mr. Benjamin Lawrence was murdered by Croft. A young woman, whom Croft claims to have been Lawrence’s mistress, was also found dead at the scene.”
“Good heavens.” Orendel looked appropriately perplexed. He shook his head as if trying to knock his disorganized thoughts into order “I know Croft is rumored to be a hard man, but… Forgive me. I don’t understand why you’re telling me this.”
Peter pressed his lips together. There was no getting around the tangled mess Croft had relayed to him. Or the investigation his testimony necessitated. It would be an arduous task, hampered no doubt by Lawrence’s father, the Marquess of Avernail.
“If Croft is to be believed, then Mr. Benjamin Lawrence murdered your daughter.”
It took a couple of seconds for that to sink in. Orendel frowned. “I don’t see how that can be when theman couldn’t walk, never mind scale the side of this house as he presumably did in order to reach Eleanor’s bedchamber.”
