Chapter 22

22

I t took Peter Kendrick a little over an hour to reach Clearview. He'd hailed a hackney immediately after leaving Carlton House and told the driver to take him straight there. Excitement thrummed through his body. It was good to receive clear instructions.

There was also the satisfaction of watching Sir Nigel squirm. His explanation pertaining to his reason for halting attempts to go after Croft had sounded like a botched piece of theatre.

Peter wondered about this extensively during his ride. He didn't believe for one second that Sir Nigel had allied himself with Croft. In fact, he'd assumed the very people they'd met with just now had been behind the decision to leave Croft alone. But that was clearly not the case.

Which begged the question, what the hell was Sir Nigel up to and what was his motivation behind protecting a man as dangerous as they believed Croft to be?

He'd come no closer to figuring it out when the carriage pulled up in front of Harlowe's sprawling estate. Kendrick ordered the driver to wait, assuring him he'd pay for his time, and approached the front door.

It had already been opened by the butler, who bid him welcome and took his hat and gloves before leading him through the house. They exited onto the terrace where Harlowe was sitting, a massive dog that looked more like a wolf curled at his feet.

The dog lifted its head and peered up at Peter, its body shifting forward as though preparing to pounce. Harlowe dropped a hand to its large head and ruffled its mottled fur. "Easy now, Major. It's only Kendrick."

The dog maintained a wary look even as it pulled back. Harlowe gestured toward a vacant bamboo armchair, and Peter slid into it, happy to have a table between himself and Major.

"Coffee?" Harlowe asked. Peter nodded and the butler promised to have a maid fetch him an extra cup. He departed and Harlowe sent his gaze out across the garden. "It's marvelous weather for early September. I savor each day I can sit out here without catching a chill."

Peter looked toward the path coming out of the forest beyond the lawn and followed it to a series of fences, an ornamental bridge, and the staggered columns that arced toward Clearview's roofline. The structure appeared like nothing more than a curious folly, but having seen it in practice, Peter knew it was so much more.

"I'm sure your charges are hoping the mild climate will last well into winter." He couldn't imagine what it would be like for them to complete the obstacle course in freezing weather as he suspected they would.

"Of course they do, but they also realize the value of training under various conditions. Besides, I'd hardly be doing a very good job if they can't withstand a bit of rain and wind. Ice is a different matter. They train indoors when the ground is slippery."

So the man did show some concern for their safety. Peter had wondered after watching them sprint along the columns and disappear onto the roof that one time. A fall from such a great height could get them killed.

A maid arrived with the extra cup and filled it before departing once more. Peter took a sip. Although Harlowe believed the climate comfortable, Peter found the air a bit too cool. The coffee helped warm him.

"I've come directly from Carlton House," he said, deciding to broach his reason for visiting. "The Prince Regent summoned me and Sir Nigel. Lord Carver was there too. He demanded to know why it was taking Bow Street so long to find the evidence needed to lock Croft away."

Harlowe shifted in his chair, angling his body so he could face Peter more directly. He scratched Major behind one ear. The beast closed its eyes and pressed up against his hand while slowly thumping his tale on the granite tiles.

"What did you say?"

"Nothing. I was still wracking my brain for an answer that didn't involve passing blame to Sir Nigel when Carver demanded that he provide an explanation for the delay." Peter relayed what Sir Nigel had told the viscount, and Harlowe frowned.

"Was he convincing?"

"I didn't think so. Especially not when bearing in mind another conversation I had with him a few weeks ago. He specifically told me the order to leave Croft in peace had come from the highest authority. I naturally believed the Prince Regent had been advised by someone close to him."

"A man like Carver could have had enough sway."

"Agreed, but he and the prince both appeared to be in the dark on this matter."

"Someone else is pulling the strings then." Harlowe didn't sound as surprised as Peter would have expected. He wondered at that. More so when Harlowe said, "No sense in speculating who might have forced Sir Nigel's hand, with their attempt to control the situation thwarted. They'll have to step back now if they're to avoid drawing attention to themselves."

"I suppose so," Peter said, not quite understanding Harlowe's disinterest in figuring out who the person might be.

"We've more important matters to consider." A reasonable enough explanation of sorts. "Did Carver give you a deadline?"

"No, but he spoke with a sense of urgency. I assume he'd like the matter handled as swiftly as possible, which is why I came here at once. My most recent conversation with Mrs. Croft did not go well, besides which I fear the risk my interaction with her might pose to the mission."

Harlowe nodded. "The last thing we want is for Croft to become suspicious of her. Leave it with me, Kendrick. I'll issue the order. Now that she's comfortably settled in her new home, it shouldn't take long for her to acquire the proof we need. I've no doubt she already knows where it's kept."

It was late afternoon by the time Dorian Harlowe reached Number 5 Portman Square. When the butler there informed him that Samantha and her husband were both out, he elected to leave her a message, informing her that he'd come to Town on some errands and inviting her to meet him at Gunter's, if she were able. He'd be there from five until six, he told the butler.

Choosing to walk, Dorian stopped by a book shop and an optician on his way to the tea shop. The visits resulted in the purchase of Sir Walter Scott's latest novel and a new pair of spectacles.

He arrived at Gunter's at precisely five o'clock and procured a table at the back of the shop. It was nearing six by the time Samantha arrived. Thankfully, she was alone. Dorian set the novel he'd started reading aside on a vacant chair and stood in order to greet her.

"Would you like some cake? An ice, perhaps?"

She glanced at the remains of his frozen mousse. "Any good?"

"The best I've ever had."

A smile curved her lips and she immediately ordered the same thing for herself, along with some tea. They sat and she folded her hands in her lap before dropping a glance to the empty chair standing between them. "I've been meaning to get ahold of that story myself. How is it?"

"Entertaining. You're welcome to borrow it once I've finished."

"Thank you, but now that I've got a library of my own there's something wonderfully diverting about buying books and seeing them fill up the shelves."

Dorian's chest expanded with pleasure. "I couldn't agree with you more. You'll never know loneliness as long as there's a good book nearby. I'm glad we share this interest."

She smiled faintly, her attention on Dorian briefly interrupted by the arrival of her order.

"This really is exceptional," she said once she'd taken a bite of her mousse, the decadent flavor of rich vanilla a treat for her taste buds. She chased it down with some tea, dabbed her mouth with the napkin, and met Dorian's gaze directly. Her eyes sharpened. "I doubt you asked me here for the sake of discussing food though. Care to tell me what this is about?"

He folded his arms on the table and gave her a shrewd look. When he spoke next, his voice was softer, a low hum concealed beneath the rest of the tea shop's sounds. "It's time for you to provide proof of Croft's wrongdoings."

Samantha's neutral expression concealed whatever thoughts his comment induced. Was she surprised? Apprehensive? Eager to follow through on her mission? It was impossible to tell.

A deep inhalation followed. She tapped her finger lightly against her saucer as though allowing herself a moment of contemplation. "There's been a great deal of disagreement regarding this issue. I'm not comfortable with it."

To his consternation, she'd managed to catch him off guard. "What are you talking about?"

"Six months ago, Kendrick came to enlist my help in taking Croft down, and I proceeded to work toward this goal with tireless resolve. Exactly as you had taught me." She leaned toward him, a fierce emotion burning in her blue eyes. "You encouraged me to sacrifice everything for the cause, including my innocence and my freedom. And I did so, only to be told that I was to stand down."

"Just temporarily."

A huff of frustration accompanied a quick shake of her head. "Do you have any idea what that felt like?"

Betrayal, he reckoned. And because he knew this – because he knew her and what the wrong words now might lead to – he reached for her hand and gave it a squeeze. "I'm sorry. Things don't always go according to plan, which is possibly something I should have spent more time preparing you for. But in our line of work one must learn to adjust. You've proven yourself tremendously in that regard."

She pulled her hand from his and picked up her cup, allowing herself a moment to sip the tea. "Kendrick called on me a couple of weeks ago and told me the same thing you're telling me now – that I am to reengage. Having heard nothing from anyone else, however, I refused."

Once again, she provided information that set him slightly off balance. Thoughts swirled, guiding him back to his most recent conversation with the chief constable. According to what he'd said, he'd been asked to stand down by Sir Nigel until today's meeting at Carlton House.

It would seem the chief magistrate wasn't the only one with a different agenda. Apparently Kendrick had his own too. And then there was Samantha, whose loyalty Dorian had acquired by giving her everything she had been lacking in that blasted orphanage.

He watched her with increased alertness, relieved when he found no hint of rebelliousness in her expression. "Why didn't you tell me this sooner?"

"Because I've been dealing with marital issues. My husband has asked his servants to keep me under surveillance. "

Tension gripped Dorian's shoulders. "I thought you'd gained his trust. If not, we've got to reconsider his reason for choosing to wed you."

"There's no need to worry. He's simply being cautious." She took a casual bite of her mousse. "However, with this taken into account, it did seem most prudent to avoid raising suspicion of any kind, which is why I've not come to Clearview alone or met friends in private. Kendrick was an exception. He foolishly decided to call upon me at the house, leaving me with quite the muddle to work my way out of."

"Idiot."

"I quite agree, but it wasn't worse than what a few lies and a bit of seduction could handle."

Dorian expelled a slow breath. This was good. As long as Croft bedded Samantha, she'd keep him under her spell. "Will our meeting today give you trouble?"

"No. You're like a father to me." The soft smile she gave him offered further relief. "There's nothing suspicious about you wanting to meet me for tea. Especially since you invited us both. A stroke of good fortune that Adrian wasn't able to attend."

"Indeed." Three elderly women entered the shop, snaring Dorian's attention for a second before he returned his focus to Samantha. "Despite the precautions you've just mentioned, I trust you've spent the time since your wedding acquiring knowledge. Yes?"

"Naturally. I've kept my wits about me and paid attention to all I've seen and heard."

"Might I presume then that you've already uncovered the information required to bring substantial charges against Croft, or that you at least know where to find it?"

The slightest dip of her chin confirmed she'd lived up to her every potential.

Pride simmered in Dorian's veins, pushing its way toward his heart and making it swell.

A fleeing sensation that swiftly vanished when she told him firmly, "I'll not hand it over until I receive an official order to do so from either the home office chief or the Prince Regent himself."

Dorian did his best to conceal the anger that flared in response to her comment, but feared he didn't quite manage to do so. She'd shocked him, truth was. Until this moment, he'd have bet his life on her inclination to follow his every command without question.

He'd not been prepared for her to doubt him.

It took him a moment to marshal his thoughts and emotions. The slight shrug of one shoulder would hopefully hide the impact she'd made. Agreeability was what he needed to show in this instance.

He offered the warmest smile he could manage for added effect. "If I didn't know any better, I might think you haven't been quite as successful as you're letting on."

It was an old tactic, turning the tables on the opponent – one he'd taught her years ago and one she would likely recognize if she were paying attention.

"On the contrary," she countered, a hint of slyness curling around her voice, "I know where Croft's files are kept. I've also overheard enough conversations to know how his illegal business is run. Once I reveal all of this, taking him down should be simple enough. Even an amateur ought to be able to do it."

"A critical jab at Kendrick?"

She didn't respond, choosing instead to down the remainder of her tea. "It's been lovely as always, Harlowe. Any chance you're attending the upcoming ball at Avernail House?"

"You know me. I never miss the chance to study the goings on within Society."

"Good." Satisfaction glowed in her eyes. "It ought to provide the opportunity for you to give me the confirmation I seek."

"A point upon which you insist, I take it?"

"I'd like to be sure the Crown has my back and that I don't end up facing charges as well. I'm sure you understand." She pushed back her chair and stood.

Dorian followed suit, bidding her a pleasant rest of the day as she took her leave. He watched her stride from the shop with confident steps, her slim figure sweeping out of his view as she entered the street.

Frowning, he dropped his gaze to her dish where half of her mousse remained untouched. He pulled it toward him, resumed his seat, and proceeded to eat the remainder, his thoughts on the conversation they'd shared.

Something about the entire meeting seemed off, though he couldn't quite figure out why. It wasn't until he returned home to Clearview that realization struck, causing him to halt on his way to his study. He glanced toward the front door, a frown creasing his brow.

Today, he'd not felt like a mentor conversing with his protégée. Instead, it was as though he'd been engaging with an equally seasoned spy. And this gave him pause.

It made him wonder for the very first time if Samantha might have created her own game where Croft was concerned. In which case Dorian feared there was every chance he'd just played straight into her hands.