For while the truth pained her, she had to be realistic.As such, she picked up her teacup and tried for a smile.“When do you wish to depart?”
* * *
Dorian Harlowe reloaded his rifle and fired another shot.It glanced off the bottle he’d hung from a tree, making it swing when it should have been smashed to pieces.With a curse of frustration, he snatched up another lead ball and prepared for his next attempt.
Everything was going to hell.Tara, Holly, and Hazel, who’d been tasked with finding Samantha and bringing her home, had failed in their mission.They’d ridden out separately but only Hazel had managed to find her.Instead of ensuring Samantha’s return to Clearview House however, Hazel had been injured so badly she still couldn’t walk.
And with both Samantha and her husband pardoned, their positions within Society fully restored, the task of making Samantha vanish for good was far trickier.If anything happened to her now, an investigation would follow, whereas before…
She’d been a fugitive accused of treason.A bounty had been placed on her head.No one would have blinked if she’d disappeared.
As he knew she must, no matter how much he loathed the idea of taking her life.
He’d raised her as his own, after all.She’d been his best agent – his greatest asset.The problem was she knew too much about him and the Nightingale Project he’d started.Information he could no longer trust her to safeguard after she’d been compromised.
If what she knew got into the wrong hands, everyone involved in the project’s creation would be in danger, not only of facing charges and going to prison but of assassination by those who thought them a threat to the kingdom.Dorian had no illusion about receiving help from the government should such a thing occur.That was the price he’d paid for doing what he believed necessary.
When things went awry, he was on his own.
Down two agents with another two circling their shadows, he was wary of how to move forward.
He set the rifle against his shoulder, took aim, and fired.The bottle didn’t even move this time.Damn nuisance.Maybe he should get his eyes checked.
The sound of someone approaching caused him to turn.His butler, Branton, strode toward him.Dorian squinted against the afternoon sun behind him.“What is it?”
“A letter, sir.”Branton raised his hand to reveal the missive he carried.“It just arrived and since it was sent from Heathbrooke House, I thought it might be important.”
Dorian stepped toward the butler and accepted the letter.Hopefully, some good news at last.He tore the red wax seal and unfolded the paper.The message was not only brief but unwelcome.He read it a second time for good measure, then crumpled the paper in his fist and started marching toward the house.
Melody was leaving England tomorrow.There was no indication of when she’d return.Only two agents remained – his most inexperienced ones.
What he needed right now was a tall glass of brandy.And maybe some sparring to get his rage under control.
5
Intent on ensuring people believed him relatively unaffected by recent events, Adrian entered White’s for the third time since his acquittal.He wanted the set of people who frequented this place to see him.Be reminded he had returned, especially since he was sure many had hoped he would not.
Forcing them to acknowledge his presence was rather fulfilling.Besides, attending might make him privy to information he’d not otherwise learn.
He stopped immediately inside the door and took a moment to glance around the lounge.A few men who’d noted his arrival sent him hesitant looks before quickly glancing away.The edge of his mouth quirked in response.To say he did not relish disrupting the comfort they’d been enjoying would be dishonest.On the contrary, it made him feel like a lion among a pack of gazelles.
Powerful, dangerous, and most importantly feared.
Traits that helped keep others in check.And though he had wondered if this might have changed thanks to the public humiliation he had endured, it seemed it had not.Most likely, because those who had stood against him were wary of potential retaliation.Only a fool would imagine the prime minister’s demands would be heeded if Adrian truly wanted a taste of blood.
For now, however, he meant to let them all squirm.To allow the act of his doing nothing put them on edge.
With this in mind, he approached the only man present whose company he cared to keep.If only Edward had been here.But since he wasn’t, the Duke of Moorland would have to do.Which was just as well.Adrian hadn’t yet had a chance to speak with him since returning to London.
The duke must have sensed Adrian’s approach for he raised his gaze from the paper he’d been perusing.Recognition flickered in his solemn expression and a hint of a smile followed.
He set the paper aside, the sweep of his hand encompassing the rest of the chairs that stood near his own.“Good to see you, Croft.Join me for a drink.”
“Thank you.”Adrian selected the chair adjacent to Moorland’s and sat while Moorland gestured for one of the servants.Brandy was ordered and when the servant went to fulfill the request, Adrian turned to the duke.“It’s my understanding I’m in your debt.”
Not a common occurrence, Adrian mused.He generally preferred it the other way around, but in this particular case he appreciated it.Edward and Eldridge had both informed him of Moorland’s support.
Something intense burned within the duke’s hazel eyes.“That would suggest I did you a favor, when all I did was help correct a terrible wrong.”
