Chapter 24

24

R ain drummed against the carriage roof as Samantha and Adrian rode to Avernail House two days later. The water streaking across the windows created a blurry vision of dark city streets illuminated by smudged gaslights.

Even though one of the footmen had held an oiled umbrella over Samantha's head all the way to the carriage, she'd not been able to stay completely dry. Dampness seeped through her cloak, chilling her skin while the toes from one stocking-clad foot begged for dryness and warmth after she'd stepped into a puddle.

Despite her discomfort, her thoughts were preoccupied by what this evening would have in store. Even though she and Adrian had come up with a plan, she worried it wouldn't work. The question he'd asked as to whether or not Harlowe might have caught on to her shift in allegiance plagued her .

If he had, there would be no escape for either of them. Adrian would meet his end one way or the other while she would most likely be locked away somewhere deep inside Newgate Prison.

A shudder went through her. Not on account of herself but for him. The possibility that she might lose him was—

"We should have stayed home," Adrian said, his strong arms pulling her tight up against him. He adjusted the blanket placed over their laps, providing her with the majority and tucking the edges around her legs. "You're trembling, Samantha. If you catch a chill I'll never forgive myself."

"It's fine," she assured him. "I've been through much worse than a bit of rain."

Grumbling his displeasure, he caught her hands between his own and proceeded to blow hot air upon them. She sighed with pleasure.

"I'm going to order some new gowns for you," he said once they reached their destination. Thankfully, Avernail House contained a portico, allowing them to avoid getting even more wet as they alit from their carriage. "These flimsy evening gowns might look pretty, but they're completely impractical, not to mention likely to get you killed."

"That's rather dramatic, wouldn't you say?"

He dropped a critical look in her direction. "I'll make sure you're dressed in wool and velvet from now on whenever there's even the slightest chance of your being cold. With long sleeves, mind you, and a more sensible bodice that doesn't put so much skin on display."

She snorted as they headed up the front steps, following other guests into the neoclassical home. "I might as well go wrapped in a blanket then."

"That's not a bad idea."

Only the slightest twitch at the edge of his lips informed her he wasn't as serious as he sounded. She chuckled and nudged his arm with her elbow. "You're insufferable sometimes. Do you know that?"

He pressed his hand to his chest, his expression encompassing all the drama one might find at the theatre. "Oh, how you wound me, when all I aim to do is ensure your wellbeing."

"Your concern has been noted," she said as they reached the cloakroom where footmen assisted the guests with their outerwear. "If it eases your mind, it's greatly appreciated, even though I know it's probably just an excuse for you to make sure no other men catch a glimpse of what I have to offer."

He drew to a sharp halt, his hand catching her elbow. "Hold on. Are you suggesting I might be jealous?"

Matching his theatrical efforts from earlier, she told him emphatically, "I wouldn't dare."

A wicked grin informed her he'd rather sweep her away to a secluded corner than mingle with other members of society. She promised herself she'd try to find time to indulge in that sort of mischief later. For now, however, additional guests were arriving behind them.

She removed her cloak and handed it to one of the footmen while Adrian took off his hat, gloves, and greatcoat. Together, they then joined the assembly line, greeting their hosts, the Marquess and Marchioness of Avernail, before proceeding into the ballroom.

"Champagne?" Adrian asked, offering Samantha a glass he'd snatched from a tray as soon as they'd stepped through the door.

She thanked him and took a sip of the bubbly beverage while he followed suit. It didn't surprise her in the least that most of the guests showed a determination to keep their distance from them. She'd noticed the way most people behaved toward her husband long before he'd asked her to be his wife.

It made sense. People talked. Gossip travelled. Until Clive Newton's death, most of it had likely been nothing more than pure speculation. Now, however, with word going around that Adrian had managed to apprehend Newton – that he was likely responsible for his death – there was a new sense of careful respect directed at Adrian, the sort one showed toward a wild beast, like a wolf or a bear.

No one believed Adrian would have allowed his sister's murderer to slip through his fingers. Only Samantha, however, knew for a fact that he hadn't.

"Keep your wits about you tonight," she whispered, catching his eye. "Whatever problem Harlowe poses aside, we mustn't forget that we're still attempting to catch another killer."

A firm nod confirmed how seriously Adrian took this. He'd gone straight to Bow Street that morning after reading about Mr. Hutchins's arrest in the paper. There was no doubt in his mind Hutchins was innocent, but Kendrick had refused to listen.

In Adrian's opinion, the chief constable simply wanted the matter closed, and Samantha was inclined to agree. After failing to apprehend Newton, Bow Street needed to prove its worth more than ever. Especially after the papers had printed critical articles on the subject. Some had even placed caricatures of Kendrick on the front page to illustrate just how incompetent they thought him to be.

It was probable the public shared this opinion. This added pressure ran the risk of encouraging him to close Lady Eleanor's case too quickly.

"Let's take a turn of the room," Adrian suggested, his hand already at Samantha's elbow, nudging her forward. "If we're lucky, we'll happen upon a few of the people named on Orendel's list."

Lady Eleanor's friends and acquaintances, including men she'd danced with at social events. "We can start with Birchwood. He's right over there."

They greeted the viscount, which involved interrupting a conversation he was having with an older gentleman, who was introduced to them as Mr. Johnathan Lawrence, the Marquess of Avernail's younger brother .

"It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance," Samantha informed him.

"Indeed, I am honored to finally meet the young woman my nephew, Nigel, keeps talking about. Your attempt at catching the Mayfair Murderer made quite the impression on him."

"He's very kind to say so, even though my husband and I made a grave mistake in believing he was the villain we sought."

Mr. Lawrence's lips twitched. "He did mention that, though I gather the error was understandable under the circumstances. Had it not been, I'm sure my brother, the marquess, would have filed charges against you."

"Happily, he did not," Adrian drawled, his voice a touch dry.

"He did, however, consider cancelling tonight's event."

"We were just discussing how right he was not to do so," Birchwood said. "Though he may have considered it in bad taste to host a ball so soon after Lady Eleanor's murder, there's much to be said for carrying on."

Samantha tilted her head. "You danced with her, I believe, a few evenings prior to her death."

A startled laugh escaped Birchwood. "I hope you're not implying I might have had something to do with that."

"Did you?" Adrian kept his expression as grave as the subject they were discussing.

Mr. Lawrence's eyes widened but Birchwood managed to hold Adrian's gaze without appearing remotely offended. "Of course not."

"Didn't think so," Adrian muttered, "but I had to ask."

"We merely hope to discover if Lady Eleanor said anything of significance while in your company." Samantha offered a reassuring smile. "It's a question we plan on putting to everyone who had contact with her in her final days."

"Back to hunting down murderers, are you?" When neither Adrian nor Samantha responded, Birchwood cleared his throat and said, "You know how these dances are. There's rarely a chance for lengthy conversations, besides the banal chitchat one makes with regard to the weather or what a fine time one is having. Least of all when the partners are not well acquainted."

"As you would have us believe you were not," Adrian said.

"What are you getting at?" Mr. Lawrence demanded, looking mildly outraged on Birchwood's behalf.

"Relax." Adrian spoke to Birchwood. "I've already said that I don't believe you played a part in Lady Eleanor's death. However, she was an earl's daughter. So contrary to what you're suggesting, I'm sure she knew every member of the aristocracy well. Especially the eligible bachelors."

"She was engaged to my nephew, Benjamin," Mr. Lawrence informed them. "And she was not the sort of young woman to let her attention wander. Her loyalty toward him after all he endured was unfailing. "

"And yet, someone clearly believed she deserved to be brutally killed." Adrian clasped his hands behind his back and rocked on his heels, the detached manner with which he spoke reminding Samantha that he was accustomed to death. "The murder was methodical. It took place in her bedchamber, which means she was singled out for a reason and that the killer knew which room she slept in. This was not a crime left to chance, so however good everyone imagined she was, she must have done something to invite hate."

A pause followed this statement before Birchwood said, "You're likely correct, but the only thing she mentioned was how happy she was. I suggested it must be from the enjoyment of planning her wedding and…"

"What?" Samantha pressed when Birchwood fell silent and frowned.

The viscount shook his head. "It's probably nothing. In fact, I'm sure I remember it wrong."

"Nevertheless, I'd like to hear it," Adrian said.

A perplexed look swept across Birchwood's face. It was clear that he wanted this conversation to be over. "Her smile vanished for a brief moment, and I remember thinking that something must be troubling her. But then she laughed and said how excited she was to speak her vows. It's worth noting that she sounded credible when she said this."

"Which probably means the question either caught her off guard or made her think of all the remaining preparations she had to take care of." Mr. Lawrence took a deep breath, his waistcoat stretching across his round stomach. "Planning a wedding is no small matter. It must have been especially overwhelming for Lady Eleanor, who had a keen attention to detail. Benjamin often spoke of this with great pride."

"I'm sure you're correct," Samantha said, barely getting the words out before Nigel Lawrence joined them. His uncle used the distraction to excuse himself from the group, disappearing into the crowd with a swiftness that clearly suggested he wanted to be as far away from Samantha and Adrian as possible.

Nigel beamed. "Mr. and Mrs. Croft. I was hoping you'd be here. So good to see you again. It's been much too long."

"You're looking better than when we last parted ways," Adrian told him. The bruises he'd given the younger man had stained most of his face. Considering the trap, however, they were all lucky he hadn't been killed.

"Given what happened, I must say I'm rather surprised by how happy you are to see us," Samantha told him.

"Forgive me, but I'm at a loss," Birchwood said. "Will you tell me what occurred?"

"They thought I was the Mayfair Murderer," Nigel informed him, his wide grin putting all his teeth on display.

Birchwood's eyebrows rose. "Another suspect. Why am I not surprised?"

"There was good reason for it," Nigel informed him. "The murderer tricked them, you see. It was all rather clever and terribly thrilling, but it did mean that I had to take a beating before they realized they had the wrong man."

"We made a mistake," Samantha said, causing Birchwood to roll his eyes, which in turn made Adrian growl with displeasure.

"An understandable one," Nigel reiterated. "One which, if I may remind you, I forgave that same evening. In fact, I've been hoping to cross paths with you since, but you weren't at any of the events I attended afterward."

"We were recently married." A tight smile on Adrian's lips suggested he wanted to divulge as little about this as possible. "Social engagements were not our priority."

"Of course not. I understand."

Nigel followed the comment with a cheeky wink, which caused part of the champagne Samantha had just sipped to go down the wrong way. She coughed and sputtered a bit while Adrian patted her on the back. A deep breath and a bit more to drink helped her through it.

"Why did you wish to see us?" she asked, her voice a tad raspier than before.

"To congratulate you on your efforts in bringing the Mayfair Murderer to justice and also to find out exactly how he ended up hanging from that church tower."

Silence.

The shock Samantha experienced in response to the blatant suggestion was felt in the tension wafting off Adrian's body. It was also mirrored in Birchwood's pale expression.

"Only Clive Newton knows that," Adrian said, his voice tight. "Thanks to you, however, everyone now believes I was involved."

"Why do you suppose I have something to do with that?" Nigel asked in a tone that made Samantha wonder if they'd been wrong to suspect him.

"The fact that you were the only one besides me and my wife who was present when I said I'd caught him."

"There was also the physician who patched up your wife. It could have been him."

"Unlikely." Adrian crossed his arms.

Nigel smiled as though this was all a bit of good fun. "You're right, of course. I may have mentioned your heroics that evening to a few people, for which you ought to be grateful. After all, it's now common knowledge that you succeeded where Bow Street failed – that London is safe thanks to your efforts."

"You're wrong, Lawrence." Adrian stepped toward him ever so slightly, but it was enough to make Lawrence flinch. "Newton got away from me. I had him in my grasp but he escaped. There's no telling what happened after that. Your guess as to how he ended up hanging from that church tower is as good as mine, though I would assume the confession found on him suggests he thought it a better way out than to suffer a public execution. Which is what he'd have faced once I sent Bow Street on his trail."

"If you say so." Nigel glanced to one side, his expression unchanging for a brief second before he hastily told them, "My brother has just arrived. If you'll excuse me."

Samantha blinked, her gaze tracking Nigel as he crossed the room, barely catching a glimpse of Benjamin Lawrence, who sat in a high-backed chair, before the crowd closed around him.

"It's good to see him making an effort to get back out into the world," Birchwood said. "Considering all he has suffered this year, from the fall that deprived him the use of his legs to the death of his fiancée, it would have been understandable if he chose to hide at home. The fact that he's here is proof of his strength and resilience. I ought to go greet him."

Neither Samantha nor Adrian argued that point. Remaining near the periphery, they watched Birchwood and several other guests join the group of well-wishers.

Samantha glanced at Adrian. "That comment Birchwood made got me thinking."

"About the possibility that Lady Eleanor wasn't as eager to marry her fiancé as everyone thought?"

"Precisely." She pursed her lips. "And if she managed to be so convincing of her affection for him, it makes me wonder what else she might have been able to hide."

"There's no doubt in my mind she was up to something," Adrian said. "Something that gained the attention of the wrong person. I'm also not buying this innocent lamb story those who knew her keep peddling. They either didn't know her as well as they thought, or they're lying to protect her reputation."

"I've not yet suspected anyone of dishonesty, so I suppose they truly thought Lady Eleanor was beyond reproach."

"Hmm…" Adrian turned, his eyes lighting with pleasure. "Edward!"

Samantha spotted his good friend as soon as Adrian spoke his name. She was glad to find him in attendance, not just for Adrian's sake, but for his own. Even if he wasn't yet ready to rejoin the marriage mart.

"Mrs. Croft," Marsdale said, offering her a short bow. "You're as dazzling as always."

"Thank you, my lord." Samantha smiled at him with genuine pleasure. "You look exceedingly handsome yourself."

"I thought it was time to put in the effort." Nostalgia flickered within his gaze, so achingly sentimental it tore at Samantha's heart. "After all, I've come to realize that getting out and surrounding myself with people is the only way for me to escape my thoughts."

The pained look he directed at Adrian made Samantha's eyes sting. She pressed her lips together firmly and forced herself to tamp down the emotional response she was having, only to notice the sheen in Adrian's eyes.

"Understood," he said with a touch of hoarseness. "We're glad you're here."

Marsdale's expression twisted, revealing the agony he still suffered, but rather than let it take charge, he forced a smile and said to Samantha, "If your dance card isn't yet full, I'd like to add my name."

Samantha dipped her chin. "No one else has made such a request yet, so you may have your pick, though I'm sure my husband will want to secure the waltz."

"Of course." Marsdale took the card and pencil she gave him and wrote his name next to one of the country dances, then handed the items back to her.

Not caring what others might think, she added Adrian's name in three places while he engaged Edward in a new conversation pertaining to the possibility of Edward joining them on their next visit to Deerhaven Manor. It was a lovely idea and Samantha prepared to say as much when she spotted Melody. Standing a few yards away, Lady Heathbrooke's companion discreetly gestured for Samantha to join her.

"If you'll excuse me," Samantha told her husband and Marsdale. "There's someone I need to speak with. I'll find you both later, when it's time for our respective dances."

"Try and talk to some of Lady Eleanor's female friends, if you're able," Adrian suggested. "One of them has to know more than what we've discovered so far."

"I'll do my best." Samantha left the men to their discussion and went to join Melody. "You should have come over instead of requesting that I come to you. I'd have introduced you to Marsdale."

Not that Samantha believed her sister-in-arms ought to befriend the heartbroken marquess, but since Melody had revealed a wish for someone to ask her to dance, Marsdale made sense. He was kind enough to ignore Melody's status for the sake of making her happy.

"Later perhaps, after you and I speak." Melody grabbed Samantha's elbow and steered her toward the terrace doors.

Chilly night air infused with the smell of moist soil greeted them as they stepped out onto the wet paving stones. Though the rain had tapered off to a drizzle, it still forced them to huddle beneath the narrow overhang guarding the doors.

"What's this about?" The urgency in Melody's manner made Samantha uneasy.

"I've been ordered to give you this." A folded piece of paper, sealed with a blob of shiny red wax.

Samantha took it, her heart settling into the slower rhythm that always preceded a battle. Instinct told her what she would find once she tore the seal open and unfolded the missive. Yet a jolt still went through her when she read the words penned within.

Find proof of Mr. Adrian Croft's criminal actions and deliver it to Chief Constable Kendrick.

Swallowing, she stared at the signatures placed below. There were three of them. The chief magistrate's, the home secretary's, and the prince regent's. They were accompanied by the weight of the royal insignia.

Her hands shook as she shoved the order into her reticule. It was what she'd requested, but it also meant the time for making excuses was over. All she could do now was pray that the information she handed over would be enough to prove her loyalty while allowing her husband enough room to avoid incarceration or worse.

She glanced at Melody. "Thank you for giving me this."

Water droplets splashed against the heavy terrace tiles. Samantha prepared to return indoors but Melody stayed her with the touch of her hand. "Apropos the matter you asked me to look into, I've learned that Lady Eleanor may not have been as lovely as she pretended. Apparently she was caught in a compromising position with the Earl of Chesterly. After her engagement to Mr. Lawrence had been announced."

Samantha stared at her, allowed the impact of what this implied to settle. "You're certain of this?"

"As certain as one can be with information that's traveled through numerous drawing rooms." Melody hugged herself against the damp chill. "If there's anything else you need from me – additional help – do let me know."

"Thank you. I will." They returned inside just in time for Samantha to see her husband disappearing into a hallway with the Duke of Eldridge. A pity since she'd hoped to speak with Adrian right away to relay the information she'd just received.

"Would you like to take some refreshment with me?"

Samantha nodded, even though she would rather refuse. "Let's. "

All she wanted right now was to find a bit of quiet within the gathering storm – the means by which to collect herself and bolster her spirit.

But she saw the longing in Melody's eyes – the clear desire for some social interaction – and found herself incapable of denying her. Least of all when Melody might have provided the key that could crack Lady Eleanor's case wide open.