Chapter 18

18

I t felt as though they'd walked ten miles by the time Mr. Hutchins finally stopped in front of a narrow building located in the easternmost part of Southwark. Samantha's feet ached. Due to visiting Heathbrooke House and Orendel House, she'd not left home with shoes for this kind of exertion.

The thick smell of chemicals used by tanners who worked in the area mingled with fragrant soaps from laundresses and the heavy odor of wax from a nearby chandler. It stuck in her throat as she drew in a breath, which made her force back a cough.

She covered her nose and mouth with her hand as she stepped behind a saddler's box window with Adrian. From there, they watched Mr. Hutchins retrieve a key from his pocket. The leather she inhaled from her glove was a definite improvement to all the cloying smells .

"What now?" she asked when Mr. Hutchins entered the building and the door closed behind him.

"We wait," Adrian murmured. He wrapped an arm around her and turned her toward him. "And while we do, we enjoy ourselves a little."

His mouth settled over hers in a slow kiss that was no less fulfilling. It infused her with warmth, forced away the unpleasant odors of the area – replacing them with his masculine sandalwood scent – and forced her attention to more pleasant things than her aching feet.

It was monumentally improper of them to put on such a display in the street, but she hardly had the frame of mind to care. Being held by her husband, feeling the gentle sweep of his lips as they brushed over hers, the mingling of breath and heat was far too intoxicating for any concerns to distract her.

She curled her fingers more firmly around his neck and reveled in his growl. A satisfied smile slid into place as feminine satisfaction settled deep in her bones. She gave him a teasing nip with her teeth and would have laughed when he muttered a curse had he not caught her mouth in a deeper kiss that nearly denied her of breath.

"Come." He grabbed her hand and pulled her out of their hiding spot in the next second, causing her head to spin so fast her vision turned blurry for a brief moment.

Tripping in response to the quick change of pace, she tightened her hold on his hand, found her balance, and fell into step beside him. "Where are we going? "

"No idea, but a younger man just left the house. I'm guessing it's Michael Hutchins."

Samantha blinked. She couldn't believe she'd been so lost in their kiss she'd forgotten why they were there. That had never happened before. No one had ever possessed the power to distract her so completely. She glanced at her husband, a little frightened by his ability to do so.

Apparently, it was not an ability she shared since he'd clearly managed to keep all his wits about him. Making a silent note to herself to do better, she strode along, the pain in her feet returning in full force with every step she took.

She did her best to ignore it. No way in hell was this something she would complain about to him. Not when they might be on the trail of the man who'd killed Lady Eleanor.

They followed him at a distance, through winding streets and all the way back across the Thames. Until his goal became clear. He was headed for The Swan with Two Heads, an inn from which several coaches departed daily. The sneaky devil planned to flee the city.

Adrian quickened his stride. "Flank his right side while I flank his left."

Moving as one, they drew up alongside Michal Hutchins before he reached the inn. He lurched back slightly but Adrian blocked him. "Excuse me, but—"

"Let's have a chat," Adrian steered him sideways, away from the inn and toward an alley that ran alongside it. "Tell us what we want to know and you'll be on your way soon enough. Try to run, and I'll shoot you dead. Understood?"

Hutchins stammered his agreement and entered the alley on shaky legs. Samantha kept her expression neutral. Shooting a man on a busy street would be the utmost of foolishness. She doubted there was any weight to the threat. Especially since she knew Adrian well enough to say with certainty that he would not kill a man for no good reason. But the warning had the effect he'd probably hoped for.

"We'd like to discuss Lady Eleanor Marsh," Adrian told him. "Are you aware that she's dead?"

A quick succession of nods informed them the news had indeed reached Hutchins. Tears filled his eyes. "I…I read about it in the newspaper."

"Hmm…" Adrian positioned himself so he blocked the exit from the alley. "I'm Mr. Croft. Lady Eleanor's father has asked me to find the man who killed her. Anything you have to say on the matter could prove useful to our investigation."

No accusation was made, just a suggestion that they would appreciate his assistance. Samantha relaxed her posture a little, attempting a stance that wouldn't appear too threatening while maintaining a certain alertness about her.

"It makes no sense to me," Hutchins cried, his distress evident. "She was— "

"Lovely," Adrian interrupted. "Wonderful. Kindness itself."

"Exactly." Hutchins swallowed and shook his head. "The world is truly worse off without her in it. I…I can't bear the thought. It's kept me from rest and from work. All I want to do is sleep. That's the only reprieve I can find from the pain of knowing I'll never see her again. It was awful not being able to attend her funeral – to say my final farewell when…"

Samantha stared at Hutchins as he closed his eyes against the onslaught of tears. His anguish appeared quite real. She glanced at Adrian, who wore a frown that might suggest he'd concluded the same. He reached inside his pocket and produced a handkerchief which he handed to Hutchins.

"Thank you." Hutchins gulped down a breath while wiping his eyes. "Forgive me. There's nothing worse than watching a grown man weep, though I'll not be ashamed of it. Eleanor deserves every tear I shed. I loved her beyond all reason."

"Did she love you in return?" Samantha asked.

"Yes." He spoke with certainty. Not a shred of doubt in his voice.

"How can you be sure?"

"Because she wanted to marry me."

Samantha exchanged a look with Adrian who then asked, "You're positive of this?"

"Absolutely. We…we had plans, you see. All we needed was a bit more money. Once we had that, we were going to travel to Gretna Greene, but…something chan ged. I got a note from her the night before she…" His hands shook as he gulped down a breath, eyes welling with endless sorrow. "She told me we'd run out of time, that we had to leave now if we were to stand a chance – take whatever blunt we'd managed to gather and flee."

"Bloody hell." Adrian's surprise equaled Samantha's.

She'd not been expecting this and immediately wondered if it could be true. Or might Hutchins be lying? Attempting to convince them Lady Eleanor had been his future and that he had no cause to want her dead. The raw emotion he showed was extremely convincing.

"I'd like to continue this conversation inside over a drink," Adrian said, an intense gaze fixed upon Hutchins. "But only if you swear to me that you'll not give us trouble."

"I won't." Hutchins looked at them each in turn. "I swear on my mother's grave."

"Good enough," Adrian said. "Come on then."

They entered the tavern and claimed a table in one of the corners farthest away from the entrance. Adrian ordered three mugs of ale once they were seated with Hutchins positioned between himself and Samantha. The drinks arrived and Samantha took a large gulp to banish her thirst, enjoying the foamy drink's smoothness with its underlying contradiction of sweet bitterness.

"Tell us more about this plan of yours to elope." Adrian took a couple of swallows then set his mug on the table.

"There's not much else to say," Hutchins said. One stern look from Adrian, however, prompted him to add, "Her father refused to give us his blessing, which I suppose is understandable. I'm not of her class. My income is barely enough to scrape by on, and she had no fortune of her own. But neither of us cared about that. The only thing that mattered was for us to be together. We were certain everything else would be resolved as long as we had each other."

"While I applaud your determination to follow your heart, your view on life is rather na?ve, don't you think?" Adrian folded his arms on the table and leaned forward. "You wished to remove Lady Eleanor from her life of comfort and make her live hand to mouth with you."

"It would no doubt have proved a challenge," Hutchins admitted, "but she knew what she was getting into. I made sure of it."

Adrian raised an eyebrow. "We're speaking of a woman accustomed since birth to rely upon servants, a woman with no idea what it means to go hungry or to sleep in places where one might become infested with lice, as she might very well have been forced to do if you failed to supply the best lodgings during your journey."

Misery pulled at Hutchins's features. "Her father made a similar point when she told him about me and asked him to meet me. He refused outright and made her promise never to see me again."

While Hutchins said this with bitterness, Samantha was certain Orendel's only concern had been for his daughter's wellbeing. Adrian was right to call Hutchins na?ve. Without a substantial income to support the couple, Eleanor's romantic notion of marrying into a life of hardship would no doubt have soured with time.

Despite what the poets proclaimed, love was rarely enough.

"When was this?" Samantha asked.

"About a year ago. I'd been secretly courting her for a few months before, ever since she came to the bookshop for the first time and I managed to slip her a note."

"You've known each other for quite a while then," Adrian acknowledged. He drank some more ale and Hutchins did the same.

Samantha tried to work out all the logistics involved in such a relationship and realized just how hard it would have been to make it work. "An earl's daughter would never have ventured anywhere without a chaperone, so one of the Orendel maids must have known of your clandestine meetings before the attachment was brought before her father."

Hutchins's eyes turned watery once again. He gave them a quick swipe with the back of his hand. "Lady Eleanor often donated to St. Augustine's Church. She proposed we should both start volunteering there and asked me to do so first. We didn't speak to each other the first few times, attempting instead to pretend we weren't acquainted and had no interest in each other.

"After a while, the maid who accompanied her grew laxer in her duties. It was clear she was bored. Eleanor eventually suggested she take tea and cake at the bakery next door while she waited, allowing the two of us to talk without the maid being any the wiser.

"From time to time, Eleanor even managed to sneak out at night and come meet me, but this was rare. She was always so afraid of getting caught, fearing it would make it more challenging for us to see each other."

"Who suggested the elopement?" Samantha wasn't sure it signified, but she was curious.

"She did." He dropped his gaze to the table and frowned. "The idea of marrying Mr. Lawrence was abhorrent to her. Not so much because of Mr. Lawrence himself, from what I gathered, but because it made her feel trapped. She knew she was being bargained away and she hated that. Especially since she wanted to choose a different path for herself."

"How did you feel about her marrying another man?" Adrian asked.

"I found it unpleasant, but I didn't want to press her into choosing me instead. Not with her father already making decisions on her behalf. So it pleased me immensely when she suggested we run away together. It showed how serious she was about me."

"Or, her engagement to Lawrence made you incredibly angry. We only have your word that she wanted to leave with you instead. But what if that wasn't the case? What if she'd had a different change of heart?" An assessing gleam entered Adrian's gaze. "You might have felt betrayed, jealous, perhaps even—"

"No." A firm denial that cut the air. "Eleanor was everything to me. I would never have harmed her for any reason. If she had chosen to marry Lawrence, I would have respected that. Who the hell am I to take charge of somebody else's future? She was her own person. She should have been allowed to make her own choices."

Samantha leaned back in her seat, a little impressed by Hutchins's impassioned statement. He certainly seemed to have cared for Lady Eleanor, but then again, so had Orendel and Mr. Lawrence. Yet their intentions where she was concerned contradicted each other, suggesting one side had either been deceived by Lady Eleanor or hadn't been completely forthright with Adrian and Samantha.

It wasn't until Samantha and Adrian headed home that she asked him, "What do you think about everything Hutchins told us?"

A hazy glow from recently lit gas lights illuminated the street. It had been a truly long day, especially after all that had happened the day before. She looked forward to climbing into a hot bath and tending to her achy feet.

"I'm inclined to believe him."

She snorted. "You were also inclined to believe Lawrence, and they can't both be right about Lady Eleanor's intentions. "

"Who's to say she didn't deceive one of them?" The look he gave her reminded her of how fresh her own deception toward him still was. He hadn't forgotten, even though he behaved as though it was all behind them.

Uneasy because it made her feel miles apart from him, she reached for his hand. "Adrian, I—"

"There's more to be discovered here," he said, denying her the chance to apologize to him again or make further assurances. "I'll call on Orendel first thing tomorrow. See what he has to say about his lack of disclosure."

"He'll probably insist that it doesn't signify."

"Then he'd be a fool, for I am certain it signifies a great deal. In fact, I believe the question of who Lady Eleanor intended to marry is exactly what got her killed."

A letter had arrived for Adrian while he was out. Elks handed it to him as soon as he'd doffed his hat and gloves. "Dinner will be ready in about half an hour. Does that suit or would you like to delay?"

It was fine with Adrian, but he had to remember that he was a married man now and that his wife might like more time to relax before dining. He turned to her. "What say you?"

"Let's not disrupt the kitchen schedule when we are both here. I'll take my bath later. "

"Very good." Elks backed up a step. "I'll let the kitchen know you'll be ready at the usual hour."

Samantha thanked him and Adrian proceeded toward his study. She followed him, shut the door, and immediately removed her blue silk slippers, ridiculous pieces of footwear that did not look the least bit practical. He sent her feet a pointed look and arched an eyebrow.

"I didn't expect to traverse the entire City on foot when I set off this morning." She dropped into a chair with a sigh, stretched out her legs, and wriggled her toes.

Adrian chuckled. "Would you care for a glass of brandy to help soothe the ache?"

"I'd love one, though I doubt it will do much for my blisters." She fell silent while he poured her drink. When he turned to cross the floor, his intention to give her the glass, he caught her watching him with a look of interest. "Men are lucky, in a way. You can be practical with your attire and still look ridiculously good."

He straightened his back. Keeping his grin at bay proved a futile attempt. He handed her the drink, then brushed his fingers against her cheek and tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear.

A sigh flowed through her, relaxing her posture. She sipped her drink, the crystal edge of the glass pressing gently against her bottom lip as she tilted her head back. The amber liquid flowed over her tongue, and all Adrian could do was watch in mesmerized silence.

He fought the impulse to lift her out of the chair, place her on the edge of his desk, and step between her thighs. Fingers flexing, he sucked air into his lungs and released it.

Elks would soon come to announce that dinner was served, besides which there was the letter for him to consider. With reluctance, he abandoned the fierce temptation of carnal activity for the moment, returned to the sideboard, and poured himself a drink as well before taking a seat in his chair.

Leaning back, he tore the seal on the letter he had received and unfolded the paper.

He read the missive, then glanced at Samantha, who was watching him with curiosity. "Looks like Murdoch has found a building where he believes the children we saved can be comfortably housed and cared for. It's on Endsleigh Street.

"He writes: ‘A townhouse containing two parlors, a dining room and a study on the ground level with four good sized bedchambers on the first floor, it sits near several squares where I'm sure the children can find much amusement. Having reviewed my roster of eligible personnel seeking work, I've put together a list of those who might interest you, along with their expected wages. Please let me know if this is to your liking or if you desire to make any changes.'"

"He's very expeditious," Samantha said.

"In the best way possible." Adrian scanned the list of names Murdoch had enclosed, the accompanying employment titles and salaries, before grabbing a pencil and making a couple of changes. "I daresay no one else could have offered up such fine results so quickly. Granted, the property needs inspecting, but Murdoch knows what my standards are. I'm sure he won't disappoint."

Elks came to announce dinner and Adrian escorted Samantha to the dining room. They ate in companionable silence, his thoughts on the conversation he meant to have with Orendel tomorrow.

"Do you mind if I go take a bath now?" Samantha asked when they were done with their meal.

"Not at all. I'll be up shortly." He gave her a quick kiss on the cheek, then returned to his study, rang for a maid, and asked her to find Murry.

The brawny valet appeared in the doorway soon after. "You wish to speak with me, sir?"

Adrian, who'd been standing by the fireplace, watching the flames dance along the top of a log, pushed his hands into his pockets and nodded. "There's a Mr. Michael Hutchins I'd like you to keep an eye on. He lives on Riley Road with his father who owns a book shop – The Story Collector – on St. Thomas Street. Hutchins had romantic ties to Lady Eleanor, and while I'm inclined to believe he played no part in her death, I need to be sure. If he's hiding something, I'm confident you'll sniff it out."

"I'll do my best," Murry told him.

Adrian didn't doubt it. The task he'd given him wasn't an easy one. If Hutchins had been involved in the murder, Adrian's conversation with him would only have encouraged the man to get out of Town quicker. Before the authorities made the connection between him and Lady Eleanor as well.

Still…

He tilted his head in consideration.

"Sir?" Murry asked, sensing there might be more he wished to add.

"Hutchins wasn't limping." Adrian glanced at Murry, a little stunned he'd not made this observation sooner.

"Should he have been?"

"The flattened plants and indented ground beneath Lady Eleanor's bedchamber window suggested whoever escaped through it fell. I'm guessing they slipped when they made a grab for the corner of the building. The foot prints left behind, one slightly deeper than the other, would indicate an uneven distribution of weight. Hutchins walked without issue when I pursued him today, for quite a long stretch, I might add."

"So then he's not the person you're seeking," Murry concluded.

"Unless he's more cunning than I give him credit for, and he deliberately tried to mislead us by making those tracking the killer believe they were looking for someone who's injured."

Murry raised both eyebrows. "That would require more careful planning than most people are capable of."

Hutchins's ability to be so devious seemed unlikely, and yet, experience told Adrian that he'd be a fool to dismiss it. To Murry he said, "Follow him. Engage Murdoch's people to help you if necessary. If Hutchins is the sort of monster who did what was done to Lady Eleanor, he'll show his true self eventually. I'm sure of it."

Murry assured him the task would be seen to and left. Adrian frowned. Pondered all the information he'd gathered so far. One thing was certain and that was that he was missing something – some crucial piece of the puzzle that kept escaping him.