At Adrian’s return, however, Wrengate’s voice shattered the stillness as he stepped forward. “What can you tell us, Croft?”
Adrian cast his gaze across the crowd. The guests’ attention turned toward him in expectation. “Only that no one can leave until the chief constable grants his permission.”
“Preposterous,” a female voice cried. “It’s already past midnight.”
“A murder has been committed,” Adrian said, raising his voice to be sure all could hear. Ignoring the gasps his comment evoked, he added, “Nobody leaves until every possible witness and person of interest has been accounted for.”
“But that could take hours,” someone else whined.
Ignoring them, Adrian asked of no one in particular, “Where is Miss Brighton?”
“In there,” Lady Ottersburg answered, directing him to the gaming room where Miss Brighton sat, hunched over and weeping into a handkerchief while Lady Moorland tried to soothe her.
Adrian approached the pair. He shared a look with the marchioness whose expression seemed to implore him to be gentle in his questioning.
He nodded his understanding and drew a calming breath. “Miss Brighton?”
The sound of his voice seemed to render her immobile. She raised her red-rimmed eyes toward his. “Yes?”
He cleared his throat, then asked, “I wonder if you happened to see someone else in the conservatory, besides the victim.”
Fresh tears spilled from Miss Brighton’s eyes. She shook her head.
“What about on your way there?” Adrian pressed. “Or afterward, as you hastened back to the ballroom? Did you not encounter anyone in the hallway?”
“No. I’m sorry.” Miss Brighton buried her face in the handkerchief and proceeded to sob while Lady Moorland stroked her back.
“This is ridiculous.”
Wrengate’s familiar voice directed Adrian’s attention back to the ballroom. Excusing himself to Lady Moorland he went to see what the duke might be complaining about.
“My sister and I are taking our leave,” Wrengtate announced.
“Not until Kendrick arrives,” Adrian said. Stepping past the bothersome man, he positioned himself at Samantha’s side, near the exit.
Wrengate gave him a frosty look. “I refuse to follow orders from someone of…questionable moral repute.” He extended a hand to his sister who stood a few paces behind him. “Come on.”
The rest of the revelers shifted, as though preparing to follow his lead.
“Stay.” The solid word, spoken by Eldridge, landed like a large block of lead. He shot a no-nonsense look toward Wrengate, whose posture turned rigid.
Adrian braced himself for the altercation he feared would follow — of potentially having to physically restrain the man. He fisted his hands, his breath caught somewhere between his lungs and his throat as the tension stretched to the point of snapping.
And then Samantha spoke, her voice soft but sure. “Your sister interacted with the victim this evening. There’s a chance he may have said something to her or that she saw something that could aid the investigation. Allowing her to leave before Chief Constable Kendrick has had a chance to speak with her would be highly irresponsible. It could even put the Moorlands at risk of facing charges of obstruction since it is their duty to make sure all is handled correctly. Is that what you wish, Your Grace?”
The rage now brewing in Wrengate’s gaze was indisputable. So much so Adrian struggled to keep from pulling Samantha behind him, to shield her from what promised to be an explosive outburst.
He refrained for the sake of preserving her dignity — of preventing her from appearing weak as she faced the man who could easily see her destroyed. Wrengate’s jaw clenched. His shoulders hunched ever so slightly, as Adrian had so often seen them do at Reed’s when he was preparing to strike.
Would the duke truly attack a pregnant woman in the middle of the Moorland ballroom? Adrian wouldn’t have thought so. Then again, he wouldn’t have thought either Edward or Kendrick would bend the law to save anyone. Yet they had, proving that people could act out of character.
Considering how much anger Wrengate harbored for Adrian and Samantha, there was a chance this moment would push him past the point of reason. That he might lash out without thinking.
Adrian flexed his fingers and loosened his posture so he would be swift enough to intercept any move the duke made against his wife. If the bastard was foolish enough to attempt so much as approaching her, he’d beat him into the ground before he finished taking his first step.
“Tying my sister’s name to a crime was a dangerous move on your part, Mrs. Croft.” Wrengate’s voice dripped with venom. “Clearly you are more unwise than I imagined. As such, you leave me no choice but to—”
“Please stop.”
