“Or,” Adrian said, turning to face her, “this has come from the man who orchestrated Evie’s death.”
Samantha stared at him, her lips slightly parted.“What makes you think that?”
Despite the lack of evidence, it was more than a gut feeling he realized.“We know whoever had a hand in her murder must be someone important.A person with the sort of connections and money required to frame an innocent person.Access to Marsdale’s home was needed in order to do so.Knowledge of the property’s layout.It…cannot have been accomplished by simply anyone.
“Plus, our theory about the motivation aligns perfectly with this missive’s purpose.”
“By having Evie killed, they made sure you embraced your heritage,” Samantha said, echoing the idea they’d discussed several times before.“That you would remain in London rather than carve out that peaceful life you’d hoped for after your father’s death.They pushed you into becoming the very thing you’d no wish to be; a brutal enforcer capable of doing what Bow Street cannot.”
“So you see,” Adrian said.“It makes perfect sense for them to guide me in my hunt.As they appear to be doing with this suggestion.Forget the fact that we already know we’re looking for a physician or a surgeon.A far more interesting question is how did they?”
Samantha held his gaze with unwavering steadiness.“They must have been made aware of the case, which I suppose could have happened if Chief Magistrate Hastings briefed others about it.Any number of high-ranking individuals could have been present.”
“That still doesn’t answer my question.”Adrian dropped his gaze to the glass in his hand.“What would lead anyone who’s not a part of this investigation to suspect The Royal College of Surgeons of possibly housing a murderer?”
“Maybe they’re part of the surgical body?”
Adrian downed the remainder of his drink in one swift gulp and winced in response to the bite.Returning to the side table, he poured himself another measure.“I can think of several such people.Individuals of high rank who serve as protectors, providing funds that support the college’s efforts.But there is one among them who stands out above the rest.”
“And who would that be?”
Gripping the crystal tumbler, he glanced toward his wife.“Wrengate.”
13
There was no ignoring the name Adrian had mentioned.It dug its talons into Samantha’s brain and refused to let go.The worst part was she knew it would give her no peace until she figured out whether or not the duke had indeed been involved in Evelyne’s death.
From what she knew of him personally, she’d not be surprised.In her opinion, the bastard belonged at The Mad Bull tavern with all the other thugs who enjoyed a bout of bareknuckle fighting more than he did in his costly upper-class mansion.After all, he’d paid a couple of brutes to have a man killed.A crime lord, yes, but that did not negate Wrengate’s capabilities.
With her head comfortably cradled on a soft pillow, Samantha stared at the ceiling and blew out a slow breath.Adrian already slept.He’d fallen asleep shortly after their love-making.But Samantha’s brain would not allow her the rest she desired as long as one question kept pressing for her attention: Was Wrengate the villain Adrian sought?The man whose death would offer him some small sense of justice and peace?
As minutes ticked by in the shadowed bedchamber they shared, Samantha knew she had to figure that out.It was the only way for them to move forward.Or at the very least for her to regain the focus required to solve their current case.
Intent on securing some answers, she slipped from beneath the covers, located a shirt and a pair of breeches, and dressed with the silence of a specter.She sent a glance in Adrian’s direction on her way to the window, pausing briefly to take in the sleeping form of the man for whom she would slay any person who posed a threat.
Within five minutes of rising from bed, she was making her way across the roof, gathering speed and leaping toward the next building.The cool autumn air filled her lungs and spread through her limbs, infusing her body with energy.
There was nothing more liberating than racing through the darkness, high above the city streets below.It was like escaping to her own private world – a place in which only she existed.Outside the social constraints she so often had to adhere to.
Up here, she could fly.
And she did, the toes of her right foot finding the edge of the rooftop with honed precision, her knee bending like a coiled spring.Like a well-used tool, it released with sharp purpose and sent her across the alley below and toward the next building.
She landed with the dexterity of a cat and swiftly sprinted forward once more.Only when she reached Number 2 Cavendish Square, did she gentle her pace and allow herself to slow her breaths.It was vital that she be completely relaxed and calm when she snuck inside Wrengate’s home.
A brief pause would ensure that, so she dropped to a crouch and sent her gaze skyward, toward the smattering of stars that twinkled beyond a thin veil of clouds.Flecks of silver were spread across the vast canvas of endless black with the waxing moon, rimmed by silver, set in the center.It seemed to float almost within arm’s reach.
And put so many things in perspective.
While every problem she and Adrian had been forced to face seemed hugely important, they were but a part of their own microscopic world beyond which an entire universe existed.She swallowed in response to that thought and how small it made her feel before turning her attention back to the things that mattered to her.
She and Adrian might not be more than two people inhabiting a speck of dust among the stars, but he was her universe and as such, she would do all she could to protect, love, and serve him.If Wrengate had caused him pain, she would find out and force him to pay the price.
Chest tight beneath a strained breath, she crept toward the edge of the roof overlooking the back of the Wrengate House property and peered down.The façade was mostly smooth, but two narrow balconies offered the points of entry she would require.
Choosing the one to the right, she swung over the side of the roof with ease and allowed her body to drop.A soft thud was the only sound as the flexible soles of her leather shoes hit the tiles.She paused for a moment to get her bearings and to listen.Just to be sure no one had taken note of her presence.
When all remained quiet, she straightened and climbed over the balcony railing.If she was to find an example of Wrengate’s handwriting with which to cross reference the letter delivered to Adrian, she’d be most likely to do so in his study.Access to that would be easiest through a direct window.To make her way downstairs from one of the bedchambers on this level would only put her at greater risk of encountering the duke, considering the late hour.
