Chapter 28

28

T here was nothing worse than being coddled. Adrian glared at Murry as he moved around the bedchamber, carrying out various tasks. The valet had first arrived in response to the bell-pull. He'd assisted Adrian with his toilette, which was fine, but when Adrian had started voicing his plans for the day, Murry had promptly ushered him back into bed.

A breakfast tray had been ordered, Adrian's insistence he was well enough to take the meal downstairs in the dining room completely ignored. When he'd scoffed at Murry's order to rest, the man had threatened to deny him the bacon he had requested, along with the morning paper.

So here he was, tucked into bed like a helpless baby, with Murry fussing over him like some sort of nursemaid. It was intolerable.

Worse, perhaps, was discovering that his wife had gone out. Where to, no one seemed to know, which instantly put him on edge. Suspicion slithered through him, making him worry she might be using his bed-ridden state against him.

Until Elks suggested her outing might have something to do with the fact that Isak was meant to move in today. Adrian had completely forgotten about that. So much had happened in recent days.

He stared at the ceiling, his thoughts returning to last night's events. The footman Samantha had sent out to find Phelps's body had met with success. Plans would now have to be made for his funeral.

Another reason Adrian couldn't afford to waste time lying about. He pushed back the covers and made to climb out of bed, not quite managing to bite back a grunt as discomfort pulled at his wound.

Murry, the nursemaid, was instantly there. Adrian tried to swat him away. Now that he'd finished his breakfast, there was little the man could say or do to keep him confined to the room.

"It's a shoulder wound, man," Adrian insisted. "And there's no sign of infection."

"That may well be, but the wound was deep and damaging, sir. If you don't allow it the time it requires to heal, you risk losing the use of your arm."

Adrian scowled. "I find that highly unlikely."

"Unlikely perhaps, but not unheard of." Murry crossed his arms, his expression grim yet somehow optimistic. "However, if you are determined to ignore sound advice, then go right ahead. Just keep in mind the effect your stubbornness may have upon you should you be unable to fight off future attackers."

Why the hell did he have to sound so bloody reasonable? "You're a bastard, do you know that?"

Murry smirked. "And you're a pain in my arse, sir."

A snort transformed into a faint chuckle as Adrian settled back into bed. Like the dutiful patient he was expected to be. Fine. He'd play along. But only because his shoulder might be hurting a little bit more than he dared let on.

Damn nuisance .

He glanced at the clock, his thoughts returning once more to his absent wife. Lord, he envied her freedom. "I don't suppose Mrs. Croft said when she'd be back?"

"I don't believe so," Murry told him while removing some of Adrian's shoes from the dressing room. "She'll likely return when she's done with her errand."

How positively insightful .

Adrian blew out a breath and watched as Murry positioned himself in a chair. He opened a box and pulled out a jar along with a rag, then proceeded to polish a shoe that already gleamed to perfection.

"I think you missed a spot," Adrian said a few minutes later when Murry prepared to set it aside. The valet sent him a disgruntled look, which Adrian answered with an innocent smile.

He was immensely relieved when the bedchamber door swung open a few minutes later and Samantha strolled in. Her cheeks were rosy from the fresh air, her eyes bright with an almost childish kind of excitement that instantly cheered him.

Not caring that Murry was there, she crossed to the bed and pressed a quick kiss to Adrian's brow. "How's the patient faring?"

"Perfectly well," Adrian told her. "I'd dance a reel with you if I were permitted to get out of bed."

She narrowed her gaze. "Really?"

"Perhaps not a reel," he admitted, "but a stroll in the garden would not be too much to manage."

"Fresh air would likely be good for you actually."

"You see?" Adrian tried to sit up again but winced when he attempted to support his weight with his left arm.

Shit .

Concern creased Samantha's brow. Her hand came around him to offer support while she repositioned his pillows and helped him lean back. "I'll open one of the windows." She was already moving across the floor. "When was the compress last changed?"

"Nearly three hours ago," Murry said.

"Oh." She unlatched the window she'd chosen, opened it, and secured it with a stay before sending Adrian a swift look over her shoulder. "You must have woken shortly after I left then."

"Which begs the question, where have you been?"

A sweet smile graced her lips. "Stanton House."

Adrian almost bolted out of the bed. Surely he must have misheard. "Alone?" A pointless question when he knew the answer. "What the devil were you thinking? "

"I had a few questions I wished to address." A sideways glance fell upon Murry. "If it's not too much trouble, I'd love a cup of hot tea. When you return, we can replace my husband's compress with a fresh one."

Murry met Adrian's gaze – a clear indication of whose orders he followed. Adrian nodded and the valet set aside the cloth and polish he had been using. Clearly, Samantha wanted to speak with Adrian in private. He'd not question her reasoning. Certainly not in front of a servant.

"Well?" he asked as soon as the door had closed behind Murry.

"I stopped by the hospital too. In order to fetch Isak. Elks is helping him settle in as we speak."

It pleased Adrian greatly to know they were helping the boy. "How's he faring?"

"Very well. He was happy to see me and can't stop talking about how impressive the house is." She chuckled, the soft smile touching her lips conveying the same kind of joy he felt in his heart. "I believe he will be very content here."

"Good. I'm glad to hear it." He cleared his throat and pinned her with his most serious gaze. "What else do you have to share?"

No hint of defiance or irritation in response to his brisk manner. He appreciated the fact that they could skip straight to the point with each other without causing offense. It made everything so much simpler.

"I've learned a couple of interesting things from Lord Stanton this morning." She lowered herself to the edge of the bed, positioning herself in a way that allowed the late morning light spilling through the windows to make her face glow. Her hand caught Adrian's, the look in her eyes convincing him that what she said next was sure to surprise him.

She didn't disappoint.

"He's not responsible for last night's attack."

Adrian stared at her while coming to terms with this truth. He was fully aware that she would have made sure her facts were correct before she reported back, so he did not doubt what she told him. "Do you know who was?"

A quick nod. "Those men who attacked you in the alley and later at Reed's, were indeed hired by Stanton. Turns out he was being blackmailed by someone impersonating you. I saw the threatening letter Stanton received from the individual. It was signed with your name."

He tightened his hold on her hand, outrage pulling at every muscle as he drew her nearer. "By whom?"

The depth of her deep blue eyes held him captive. "The demand made in the letter was for Stanton to hand over his shares in North Atlantic Trade. As luck would have it, we happen to know someone for whom the acquisition of those shares would be advantageous."

Adrian's mouth fell open. "Mr. Benjamin Lawrence."

"Exactly."

Air rushed from his lungs as he slumped back against his pillows. "With the shares he stood to gain through marriage, along with the ones he hoped to acquire from Stanton, Lawrence would have had complete control of the business."

"Turns out he's far more calculating than I believed." A dark shadow fell across her brow. "It infuriates me to think of how calmly he sat and discussed Lady Eleanor with you after using your name for extortion."

Adrian was of like mind. He needed to speak with the bastard again and when he did, he'd be less considerate of his handicapped state. After all, considering the timeline for when the attacks occurred, Lawrence must have sent the blackmail letter to Stanton at some point after his injury.

There was one thing he couldn't quite figure out though. "Why attack us?"

"I believe the true target in the attack was Stanton. When he failed to meet Mr. Lawrence's request, Lawrence attempted to use us against him, just like he used him against us."

"You think he expected me to punish Stanton?" It was a devious scheme, albeit a somewhat flawed one since all it had taken for Samantha to learn the truth was an open conversation with the viscount. Convinced he had to be missing something, Adrian frowned on that thought. When the answer remained elusive, he asked, "Did Stanton say when he received the blackmail letter?"

"At some point in the middle of May, I believe."

"And it was the only one Lawrence sent?"

"I believe so. There was no mention of a follow-up."

"Why not?" For some inexplicable reason, Adrian knew that finding the answer to that one question was key. "Something must have caused him to change his plan."

"I can't imagine what that might be," Samantha told him after a while.

Adrian had fared no better in coming up with a plausible reason. Experience told him it might be best to give his attention elsewhere for a while – allow what he'd learned the time it needed to settle. Maybe then the answer would come.

Still, there was one more point to make on the subject. "We've established he can't be trusted. When I'm well enough to leave the house, I'll call upon him once more to press him for answers. It could be he knows more than he's letting on about Lady Eleanor too. Until then, however, I'll have one of my men watch his house – see if there are any unusual comings and goings. Once he realizes last night's attack against us failed, he'll be sure to try and destroy every trail leading back to him."

"So for now, we wait?"

A knock at the door interrupted their conversation. Murry entered with a tray. Besides a few tea things, it contained the poultice that would be applied beneath the new compress.

Murry set the tray on Adrian's nightstand. With Samantha's help, he cleaned the wound, added the poultice and a clean compress, then wrapped a bandage around Adrian's torso and shoulder to hold it in place.

With his task completed, the valet prepared to leave, but Adrian stopped him. "It looks like Mr. Benjamin Lawrence has stepped out of line. Can you please make sure someone watches his home? I want a log of his every activity going forward."

"I'll put Turner on the case," Murry promised.

He slipped from the room and Samantha poured them each a cup of tea, then returned to her spot on the edge of the bed. "What's next?"

"I recommend focusing on your upcoming meeting with Kendrick." Samantha's jaw tightened a smidgen – just enough to reveal the displeasure she found in the subject. She wasn't alone. But that didn't mean it was one that could be avoided. "You need to be ready, which means we've got to finish preparing the information you're going to give him."

They'd meant to do so last night when they returned home from the ball, but getting attacked had caused a delay.

There was no denying Samantha's reluctance. Even so, she took a quick sip of her tea and stood. "I'll fetch what we've gathered so far."

She brought a large pile of documents with her when she returned. Moving quickly, she split this into two stacks, leaving one to the side while distributing the rest in a neat grid-like format on the floor.

Once done, she stood, hands on hips, while admiring her work. She pointed toward the larger stack that remained untouched. "Those are the ones we've agreed on so far."

There were many more files of course. What she'd brought was already a carefully curated selection. Their job now was to complete it so Kendrick would be kept busy, his satisfaction met to some small extent.

"We'll go through them systematically." He grabbed Samantha's pillow and shoved it behind his back to create extra lift which allowed him to sit up straighter. "Hand me the one in the upper left corner."

It was an arduous task, considering most of the files contained at least ten pages of information that had to be carefully read. Missing a single detail could be disastrous.

And even when they finished their selection, they'd have to make copies of each single file, not only so they retained the originals but also to make matters harder for Kendrick by using a more illegible scrawl.

For the most part, only meetings and conversations were referenced, beyond which nothing was stated outright. And yet, some reports hinted at various actions that could lead to further investigation.

What he feared most of all was handing over a file that connected him to someone he might have killed.

If Kendrick managed to link him to murder, there would be no chance in hell of acquittal. He'd hang in front of Newgate Prison for all the world to see.

"Not this one," he said nearly two hours later. The file in question was set aside in a separate pile. It referenced a deal his father had been engaged in some ten years ago and involved the forging of banknotes, a capital offense punishable by death.

"But if you played no part in it," Samantha said when he told her what it pertained to, "it should not pose any threat. Not with your father already dead."

"I participated in some of the meetings between my father and Mr. Aderlay, the forger. My name is mentioned. It's too great a risk."

She said nothing more on the matter, returning instead to the papers she had been reading.

They were halfway done by the time one of the maids brought a lunch tray for Adrian. She asked if Samantha would like one too, but when Samantha learned Isak was dining alone, she said she would join him instead.

"I hope that's all right," Samantha told Adrian.

"It's the correct thing to do. Isak should not have to eat by himself on his first day here. Go on. I'll be fine."

She leaned in for a kiss and was gone immediately, leaving him unsupervised for the first time since he'd woken that morning. He used the opportunity to defy Murry's orders and stretch his legs. Although twisting to get out of bed pulled at his wound and made it ache, it was nice to be able to move.

Standing on the Aubusson rug beside his bed, he swept the floor with his gaze. It was easier to get a clear view of each individual file from this vantage point. He considered the titles inked on the cardstock used for each of their covers. Some were names, if the file contained information specific to one individual. Others were codes, referring to various activities carried out under the Croft name.

Adrian lowered himself to a crouch and picked up a file labeled Fishing Profit s. He flipped to the first page and read even though he already knew what he would find. He just had to make sure there was nothing he couldn't get out of with good legal help.

Satisfied this was the case, he added the file to the stack Samantha would give to Kendrick, climbed back into bed, and gave his attention to his meal.