Chapter 11

11

I t was strange how quickly a situation could change. Tucked against her husband's side, Samantha departed the theatre, her spirits high. Today's events had shaped a new beginning for them. It was as if they'd not been at odds at all, considering the ease with which they'd fallen back into the tightly knit partnership they'd enjoyed in the weeks leading up to their marriage.

The concert had been a marvelous experience, the music's beauty a perfect complement to the strong feelings contained in her heart.

They descended the steps to the pavement together and proceeded toward the street where their carriage was parked, a short distance from all the congested theatre traffic. Adrian gripped her hand, his tall, broad-shouldered frame dwarfing her as they crossed the road .

Not far to go now.

"Did you enjoy it?" he asked, slowing his pace when she skipped a few steps to keep up.

"Very much so."

He made a throaty sound in response and said nothing more, which was perfectly fine. She no longer felt that uncomfortable tension between them demanding they fill the silence with chatter. There was comfort now, and she reveled in it.

They passed someone coming the opposite way, prepared to turn the corner, when a group of people rounded it, their haste nearly causing them all to collide. Reacting quickly, Adrian pulled Samantha behind him, out of harm's way.

A few, "beg your pardons," followed before they realized who they'd almost run into.

"Croft." A bitter sound spoken with harshness.

"Stanton," Adrian replied, his manner curt as he greeted the viscount.

Samantha assessed the hard glare in Lord Stanton's eyes, then turned her attention on those who were with him. Three younger men, one whom she'd met before and therefore recognized as his son, Owen.

Since the two other gentlemen flanking Stanton also bore some resemblance to him, she supposed they must be his sons as well, though they looked a bit younger than Owen.

Stanton sneered at him. "Get out of my way, you rotten bastard."

Adrian didn't budge .

"You heard him," one of the younger sons said. "Before I kill you like you killed my brother."

The movement that followed was swift, but not swift enough to catch Samantha off guard. She reached for one of her lethal hairpins, the tip connecting with the imbecile's throat at the same time as he set the edge of his blade against Adrian's.

"What are you doing, Randolph?" Owen stared at his brother, aghast.

Randolph angled his head against the added pressure Samantha exuded. "We all know he murdered Clive."

"Your brother took his own life," Adrian hissed.

"Liar," the third brother spat.

"Stand down," Stanton ordered, "before you do something that can't be undone."

"He would never have taken his own life," Randolph said, eyes burning with rage.

"The alternative would have been a public hanging," Samantha said, her senses on high alert.

"You assume a great deal," Stanton said, his attention switching to her. "Like the fact that my son wasn't forced to write that confession under duress."

Adrian growled, anger rolling off him in violent waves. Samantha prayed he wouldn't do something reckless and get himself killed.

"Word is you caught him, Croft." Randolph's and Owen's unidentified brother leaned forward. "The cleric found him the very next morning. I don't believe that to be a coincidence. "

"Enough," Stanton said, his deep voice rumbling in the dark. "Put your bloody knife away, Randolph, before things get out of hand."

Stillness settled upon them. Samantha held her ground until Randolph started retreating, at which point she, too, withdrew her weapon. She took a deep breath and sent Adrian a swift glance to make sure the situation was not about to get worse.

Despite his stiff posture, he showed no hint of going on the attack. He took a step back. "My condolences to all of you."

Stanton's expression darkened. "Go to hell."

There was no doubt in Samantha's mind that Adrian only allowed the rudeness because of the loss the viscount had suffered. The man broke into an angry stride, shoving past them as he stormed off, his sons right behind him.

Samantha expelled a deep breath. "Well. That was exciting."

Adrian turned to her, disbelief in every crease of his brow. "Are you demented?"

It was hard not to grin. "Good thing I was there to protect you."

He muttered a curse, shook his head, and reached for her, pulling her into his arms and pressing a hot kiss to her mouth. Right there in the middle of the street, for all the world to see.

A smirk tugged at his lips when he drew back to face her. "I could have taken that pup if I'd needed to, but I have to admit, I rather enjoyed seeing you in action. That hairpin was quite the surprise."

"It's practical – easily accessible at a moment's notice."

"A bit like my cravat pin."

He pulled the elegant piece of jewelry free so she could see that it was longer and sharper than what was expected. The revelation caused an astonished bit of laughter to catch in her throat. Chuckling in response, he caught her arm and steered her toward the carriage.

They pulled up in front of their home some twenty minutes later and were in the process of alighting when a small figure peeled away from the dimly lit street corner and walked toward them. Already on heightened alert from their earlier altercation, Samantha prepared for the worst, but allowed herself to relax when she saw it was only the flower girl she'd met before.

Sensing the tension in Adrian's body, she placed her hand against his arm. "It's all right. I know her." She went to meet the girl. "Is there anything I can do for you?"

"It's about Isak." The tremor in the girl's voice chased away all hints of warmth and good cheer brought on by the evening. "He said to come here if Wycliff took him to that awful place. Let you know it was happening."

Dread pooled in Samantha's gut. "Where is he?"

"A place near Covent Garden."

"Can you show us the way? "

The flower girl nodded and Samantha gestured for her to follow as she began striding back to where Adrian waited.

"Looks like we've got a boy to save," she announced before she reached him.

Adrian straightened, his expression hardening as he glanced at the flower girl. "Isak?"

"Wycliff isn't heeding your warning." Despite doing her best to stay tough, her eyes started to sting as she spoke. "I should have murdered that man when Isak asked it of me. But I denied him and now… We have to do something."

"And we will," Adrian told her, the firmness in his voice a welcome assurance. To the flower girl he said, "What's your name?"

"Rosie."

"You're a good friend, Rosie. Isak's lucky to have you on his side." He informed the driver that they would be taking another trip, then asked Rosie to tell him where to go. Once that was done, he handed her some coins and thanked her, adding, "We'll take care of Wycliff and make sure no further harm comes to Isak. You have our word."

Rosie bobbed an awkward curtsey, spun on her heels, and sprinted away, disappearing into the night.

Adrian turned to Samantha, his solemn eyes searching her face before raising a finger to wipe tears from her cheeks. "It's not your fault."

"But…" Her heart hurt at the thought of what might be occurring at this very second .

"The only person to blame here is Wycliff, and once we've saved Isak, we'll make sure he pays. Agreed?"

"Yes."

"Good girl." He kissed her swiftly, then ushered her back into the carriage.

A quick comment to the driver followed, and then they were off, moving with urgent speed. They raced through the streets and around street corners. Samantha gripped the leather strap attached to the side of the cabin, her other hand braced on the seat beside her. Heart bouncing against her breast, she prayed they'd arrive before Isak suffered further abuse.

By all that was holy, she'd murder anyone beastly enough to lay their hands on him. The carriage wheels rumbled as the horses pulled the vehicle onward, transforming the nighttime view through the windows into a smear of purples and greys. Until, with a jolt more sudden than she'd expected, they jerked to a halt.

Preparing herself for whatever resistance they happened to meet, she reached beneath her skirt and unsheathed one of her blades. Adrian paused to acknowledge it for a brief second, then opened the door and helped her out.

The half-timbered structure they faced looked like a medieval relic. Two stories high, the fa?ade leaned outward at a harsh angle, threatening those who came too near with the chance of it falling upon them.

Lights flickered in some of the windows while others were cast in shadow. The sign above the door read: The Buxom Lady Taver n

Samantha sent the title a scathing look and started forward.

Adrian's arm swung out to block her. She glared at him. "What?"

"I'm as ready as you are to start tearing people limb from limb, but let's assess the situation first. Shall we?"

Blood roared in her veins, every muscle pulled tight with the need to do battle. Adrian saw that and tried to make her see reason. Infuriating, but correct.

She blew out a breath. "Fine. I'll follow your lead."

It was the only way to stop her from stabbing the first person who crossed her path.