Chapter 23

23

S amantha did not permit herself to relax until she entered Croft House and the door closed behind her. Never before had she lied so thoroughly or with as much at stake as she had while taking tea with Harlowe. Not even the bright smile she'd gotten from Isak that morning, when she'd suggested he move in with her and Adrian, could calm her rioting nerves at the moment.

Her fingers trembled so fiercely, she barely managed to unbutton her pelisse.

"Everything all right?" Elks inquired when she handed him the item.

"Quite so." She mustered a smile of some sort and asked, "Do you know where I might find my husband?"

"In the library, I believe."

She thanked the butler and headed toward her favorite room in the house. The dark walnut bookcases filled with centuries worth of knowledge had comforted her in the days when she'd feared Adrian would never forgive her deception.

Despite the progress they'd recently made in their marriage, she knew deep down that the broken trust would take longer than a couple of weeks to repair. In all likelihood, it would take years, during which she would have to prove herself daily.

In a way, she ought to be grateful to Harlowe for providing her with the means by which to do so.

She paused in the library's doorway for a brief moment to survey the space. A maid who knelt before the fireplace struck a flint and lit the kindling. Flames sprang to life, hesitantly at first, then with increased vigor as they gathered strength.

"Thank you, Sarah." Adrian's voice rolled through the air like smoky tendrils imbued with flavors from faraway lands. Rich and luxurious, with a subtle hint of danger.

The maid rose, gathered her supplies, and bobbed a curtsey, repeating the gesture when she saw Samantha, alerting Adrian to her presence. He immediately stood and Samantha entered the room.

"Cummings reported back while you were out," he told her. "He's approved the building Murdoch recommended and will go ahead with the payment. The children should be able to move in next week."

"That's excellent news." She smiled as he came to meet her, neither saying anything more until the maid had departed, closing the door behind her .

"Speaking of Murdoch, he sent me a letter containing some interesting news."

"Oh?" She sauntered toward him.

"An informant of his located one of Wycliff's boys – a lad who witnessed his murder." Samantha paused briefly before resuming her progress. "Turns out our theory regarding Wrengate may be correct, for although the boy didn't see the killer's face, he described the man's speech as cultured. Upper class."

"Something you wish to investigate further?" She took Adrian's hand, wove her fingers with his.

"Possibly. After we've solved Lady Eleanor's murder." He pressed a kiss to her cheek. "How was your tea?"

"Not quite strong enough for the conversation I had to engage in." She glanced at the side table with longing and Adrian stepped toward it.

"What's your preference? Brandy or port?"

"Brandy, I should think."

An arched eyebrow conveyed the slightest concern. "That bad?"

She crossed to where he stood, her footfalls hushed by the Persian rug that covered the floor. "Harlowe has ordered me to resume my mission."

Adrian handed her the glass he'd filled, the gentle brush of his fingers reminding her of the unity she found in the help he offered as long as she gave him her full allegiance. His palm settled against her cheek – a warm caress she so desperately wanted to savor .

Perhaps later, once she'd told him all she needed to say.

"We knew this would happen sooner or later." He traced the edge of her jaw before letting his hand fall away. "Tell me what he said."

So she gulped down a measure of brandy and did as Adrian asked. Not leaving out a single detail, she relayed her conversation with Harlowe in full. "I've bought some time by demanding he prove this order has the highest approval, but after that…"

"He'll know you're no longer obeying him if you fail to follow through."

"Precisely."

Adrian studied her face while she drank some more brandy, the heat from the spicy liquid soothing her nerves. "You're torn because of your history with him. It's completely understandable."

"Is it?" She wasn't so sure. "His willingness to sacrifice me should make this an easy decision."

"I'm sure he considered your marrying me a temporary bit of displeasure for you to suffer. After all, the plan was to see me hang, which would have made you a widow and freed you from the bonds of marriage."

It was hard for her to swallow past the sudden lump in her throat. "You are not going to hang if I have any say in the matter."

He gave a small shrug as though whether he lived or died was of little significance. It was unbearable. "And let's not forget Kendrick's plan to make sure I met my end by some other means, right? Either way, Harlowe was sure you'd walk away from this ordeal with the chance to start over. No doubt with some sort of reward bestowed upon you by Prinny himself, to say nothing of the fortune you would acquire from me as my widow."

"Stop it." His blasé approach to this was beyond annoying. "I am not letting anything happen to you."

"Because you care for me more than you want to admit?"

She refused to be the first one to say what was in her heart. Instead she told him, "If you'll recall, I pushed for marriage. Had it been up to Harlowe, I'd have worked my way into your bed, drugged you, and used that opportunity to discover as much as I could."

"A flawed plan, considering all that could have gone wrong." His dark eyes swept the length of her body with so much craving, she forgot time and place. She stepped toward him as though he were reeling her in. "That said, I can't pretend I'm not grateful for the training you received in the art of seduction."

Her arms slid around his neck, the mingling of their breath becoming much more as their mouths met. Tentatively at first, then with increased insistence as she surrendered to what he offered.

It went beyond physical need, this yearning for added closeness driving something of greater importance. She couldn't explain it, nor would she try to. All she knew was that this man was not only in her heart but in her soul. He spoke to her fears and desires, saw the ruthlessness she was capable of, and accepted it with as much grace as she accepted his.

Neither of them was perfect. Far from it. But maybe this was what pushed them together, the flaws they recognized in each other – the instinct to fight on behalf of the weak and to make sure justice prevailed.

The world in which they lived was a sinister place shrouded by darkness. They'd both seen the worst of what it could offer. Yet here in this moment, tucked away in their cozy library, light prevailed, the heat they produced as they fumbled to free each other from layers of clothing keeping all troubles at bay.

There would be time to face the world later.

For now…

Samantha gasped when Adrian pulled her down onto the sofa, her skirts hitched around her waist as she straddled his hips and allowed their bodies to join. He tugged at her bodice, eyes flashing with appreciation when she arched toward him, offering all of herself while the light from the fireplace danced around them.

"Stunning." A deep murmur that sent soft shivers straight down her spine.

Her hand cradled the back of his head as she moved against him, holding his gaze so he'd experience the effect he had upon her, see the pleasure she found in his touch and know the deep connection she felt in her heart.

This man, who made no apology for the killing he'd done, was everything to her. She'd give her life to save him. A profound awareness whispered through her, euphoria already starting to grip her.

Her lips parted as she reached the edge, the truth sliding over the tip of her tongue, tempting her with the freedom it offered. Unless he failed to repeat the words.

A brief hesitation – enough for her to lose the moment to the first tremor. She gripped Adrian's shoulder, felt him stiffen against her, and saw the pleasure burning in his dark eyes as he followed her through the storm.

Her body relaxed soon after, a sigh of contentment escaping a place deep down in her lungs. Leaning forward, she touched her lips to his in a tender caress that would serve instead of the words she'd almost spoken.

When she met his gaze next, the affection she found there could not be denied. It burned brighter than any star and that was sufficient. The words would come later, when one of them dared let vulnerability guide them. Until then, she knew he cared for her as she cared for him.

It was enough.

"Do you think there's any chance Harlowe might have figured out what you're up to?" he asked moments later when she lay stretched out beside him, her head on his shoulder, legs curled beneath her.

"It's possible, I suppose. His ability to mask his thoughts prevents me from knowing whether or not he bought my story. That said, he couldn't quite hide his surprise when I told him I wanted my orders in writing from a higher authority. He'd clearly not expected that."

"It was a risky demand," Adrian told her, stroking her hair with lazy movements. "One that may have given you away."

"It was the best I could do to allow for more time. Otherwise, I really have no excuse not to do as I'm told." She sat, pushing away slightly so she could angle herself toward him. "I'll need to give him something the next time he asks, which will be the day after tomorrow at the Avernail ball."

A lengthy sigh was Adrian's first response. He caught her hand and wove his fingers with hers. "In that case, we'd better set our minds to figuring out what you're going to give him."

Samantha pressed her lips together, concern for Adrian rushing through her as she acknowledged just how important the next step in their plan would be. It would without doubt make the difference between the future she longed to embrace with him by her side, and one that ended in total disaster.