Chapter 8

8

D espite the apprehension tying her stomach in knots, Samantha entered the foyer as soon as she heard the front door being opened. She'd spent her return from Clearview House weighing her options and had settled on taking the clearest path forward.

Adrian was the only person upon whom she could depend, but only if she sacrificed everything she had spent most of her life working toward. And only if she turned her back on Harlowe for good.

If she was to win back Adrian's trust, she'd have to pay a significant price, and even then there was no guarantee it would work. In fact, there was a really good chance he'd never believe in her ever again. But if there was a slim chance he might, she'd have to take it. Anything else would feel too much like failure.

The smile she gave him when he entered the house was mostly for Elk's benefit, though there was no doubt in her mind all the servants knew she'd fallen out of Adrian's favor. "I'm hoping you and I can continue our conversation from earlier."

Adrian stilled so briefly the pause would have gone undetected had she not been paying close attention. He continued removing his gloves. "Is there anything left to be said on that score?"

"A great deal, as it happens."

"Very well." His voice was even, devoid of emotion, slightly chilling. "Give me a moment and I'll meet you in my study."

She'd rather not but this was her idea, and besides, she was anything but a coward. Funny, how bravely she'd always faced every challenge, yet when it came to confronting her husband, she might as well be heading straight for the gallows. Or worse.

Removing herself to the study, she wondered whether to sit or stand, and finally chose to remain fully upright so she could face him properly.

"Where have you been?" she asked, attempting a conversational tone when he came to join her.

Not the right question, judging from his critical expression. "Don't act like I'm the one sneaking around behind your back."

"That's not what I was—"

"Stop it, will you?" A frustrated growl. "As I've said, I know you've been working against me. The worst part is, I would have refused to believe it was possible – would have told everyone they were wrong about you – but then you met with that errand boy. "

"His name is Isak."

"I don't give a rat's bloody arse what his name is," Adrian shouted, eyes blazing, teeth bared. Several seconds of silence followed, and then he drew a deep breath, appeared to collect himself. His expression softened to something far worse than anger – something that looked an awful lot like indifference. "Measures have been taken to safeguard against you, so go ahead and do as you please. I've more important matters to attend to right now than an undependable wife."

The words were like finely barbed daggers launched at her heart. He reached for the door handle, prepared to leave. She straightened her spine, raised her chin, and told him bluntly, "Kendrick wants you gone. I'm sure you probably know he called on me yesterday while you were out."

He froze, his head dipping – chin meeting chest. Silence settled between them before he finally turned, slowly and with purpose, his gaze piercing as he raised it toward her.

"Why does he want me gone?"

"Because he thinks you're guilty of crimes that would see you hang, and all he needs is to prove it."

"And what? You agreed to help him? Is that it?" He was glaring at her with such malice she actually feared she might turn to stone.

"I never agreed to anything." Only truth. No more lies. "Soldiers don't get to do that, you see. They follow orders without asking questions."

He clenched his jaw, the ferocity in his eyes - the betrayal he saw in her - unrelenting. "Are you trying to pass the blame?"

"No. I played my part and as such, I have to take responsibility for what has happened. Between us, especially. For you see…a soldier is only useful as long as they trust their commanding officer. That changed for me at some point, which is why I made that announcement about our being engaged. The true reason at least. Because I saw a brighter future with you than I did with Harlowe."

"Why should I believe you?" He prowled toward her, an unrelenting force of unyielding power. "What reason do I have to trust you? To suppose you didn't do it so you could get closer?"

Shoulders back and head held high, she strode straight into the fire. "Because I'm about to hand you every detail about the mission that's meant to destroy you."

Gleaming eyes held her in their thrall. A fragile thread spanned the distance between them, catching and holding, winding tighter with every heartbeat. The sound of their breathing was all she could hear as she stood there, suspended in time while waiting for him to respond.

The clock on the mantlepiece ticked, and it felt like a lifetime filled the last second. Her fingers twitched with restless energy – anticipation – a flare of hope when he finally shifted, not retreating but firming his stance.

"No more games." He gestured toward the chair beside her. "Sit."

She fought the instinct compelling her to rebel against the command and lowered herself to the proffered spot. He remained where he was for a moment, cautiously watching her every move before he finally straightened, rounded his desk, and took a seat.

"You will tell me everything, or so help me I'll have you confined to a place where you no longer pose a threat. Is that clear?"

"Yes." There was no doubt in her mind that he meant it. What he didn't know was that she'd have told him anyway, without the threat. This was, after all, their only chance at saving their marriage.

Complete and utter transparency.

So she started at the beginning and told him of her life before Harlowe, what it had been like later at Clearview, the project she'd been recruited for and how proud she'd been to excel at it. She spoke of the orders she had received from Kendrick, how he and Harlowe had overseen her mission to find out damning details they hoped would lead to Adrian's execution.

"I don't quite follow Harlowe's involvement," Adrian said, his expression guarded. "Why would he have been tasked with your training?"

Samantha met his gaze squarely. "Because he's one of the best agents ever employed by this country."

Dismay slackened Adrian's features for a brief second. "What?"

"He's a former spy. He gathered information on Napoleon's armies during the first and second coalitions. Work that eventually led to France's defeat." She wove her fingers together and flexed them slightly. "The Nightingale Project was his idea. He requested the funding and turned it into a reality."

Adrian stared at her in stupefied shock. The file that had been assembled on Harlowe was wrong. It had misled him completely. More surprising was the realization that his father, who'd put the whole thing together, had been duped. It was as inconceivable as Samantha's impressive training.

Bleakness sank through his body, alerting him to the fact that he'd been fooled more thoroughly than he'd imagined. It left him with a bitter taste of failure, and a sudden thirst for vengeance.

He glared at Samantha. His wife. "We'll never recover from this."

"Why not?"

An incredulous laugh rumbled through him, as raw and painful as every lie she'd told him. "Because you're not who I thought you to be. Because you manipulated me from the very beginning. Because I was nothing more than a job to you. Because the woman I fell for is just an illusion. Shall I go on?"

Something in her gaze shifted – a flicker of deep emotion so fleeting he failed to define it. Her features tightened and fire lit up her eyes, the force of it so intense he sucked in a breath. Whatever his feelings about her, this woman was strong, resilient, unwilling to back down when faced with a challenge.

She would not let him break her, no matter how hard he tried to tear her to pieces with words. Hell, she'd knocked him on his arse earlier, which was something no other woman had done before.

Despite everything, he couldn't help being impressed.

"Would it make a difference to you if I were to tell you I fell for you too?" The softly whispered words drifted toward him, like the heady smoke from an opium pipe. "That's what changed the most. The more I got to know you, the more I saw you for who you are. And it occurred to me that you aren't the cruel, murderous villain you'd been painted as, but rather the definition of what it means to be righteous. It made me realize that you don't deserve to be hunted. You deserve to be saved."

It was difficult not to stare at her, the passion with which she'd spoken reaching so deep, it touched a cold place in his heart, warming it slightly. And yet, he could not ignore her actions, would not allow her the satisfaction of knowing the potent effect her words had upon him.

"You're wrong." It was time to show her his hand and see how she truly felt. "I am every bit the cruel and murderous villain, Samantha."

"Perhaps so, though I doubt you're as bad as Kendrick and Harlowe would have me believe." Her gaze was direct. "According to them, you would force women to whore themselves so you can turn a profit."

"That's a disgusting lie." He abhorred those guilty of such abuse.

"I thought as much."

"Maybe so, but that doesn't mean I've not dirtied my hands in other ways. Those thugs who attacked us at Reed's… They'll never be heard from again for good reason. Same goes for Newton. I took particular pleasure in putting an end to his miserable life. And those are just the last in a long list of deaths that were caused by my hand. That is who you married, though I had hoped your sweetness would help me put all that behind me, perhaps even offer a bit of salvation. Except, there's nothing sweet about you, is there? It was just an act."

"Parts of it were, but a great deal was real. Our conversations, for instance, were open and honest. Everything I told you about myself was true."

"What difference does that make when you omitted the most important part?" He snorted with disdain. "If you'd cared for me as you claim, you would have told me the truth before we spoke our vows. Instead, you chose to trap me."

"You're right and I'm sorry. But since I'd made the decision to stand by your side, I worried the truth would just wreck things between us."

"It did so anyway." Bitterness draped itself over his shoulders. "Your selfishness denied me the chance to choose. "

Her eyebrows drew together, brow creasing as she closed her eyes for a moment. When she looked at him next, regret showed in her expression.

Still, her voice remained level, determined, as she quietly told him, "I may not be as pure of heart as you believed, but maybe that's better for you."

A different perspective he hadn't considered. He narrowed his gaze, trying to figure out if she was being honest or trying to trick him. On guard, he carefully asked, "How so?"

"I think the woman you thought me to be would have judged you harshly, not because you deserve it, but because she wouldn't have understood you the way I can. Adrian, I know I've done everything possible to make you doubt me, but the truth is, I'm on your side. When I stopped making progress and Kendrick threatened to get rid of you through other means, my only thought was to protect you."

"You're telling me the chief constable meant to have me killed?"

"I don't know. He was trying to pressure me – yet another reason why marriage was so compelling. It allowed me to keep a close eye on you and your surroundings, prevent an attack if one was attempted."

"Like you did at The Toothless Cat?" She'd leapt between him and Clive Newton's pistol, gotten herself shot in the process. A sacrifice he'd later justified as an attempt on her part to endear herself further, when the truth was, she could have died .

Despite everything, the thought was so unpleasant it sent a harsh shiver through him.

"I know what you think, but you're wrong." Her jaw tightened. Regret was replaced by flint. "Instinct will always compel me to put you first. I don't know why. I can't explain it. But… that is the truth."

Arms crossed, she glared at him as though she found her compulsion to save him a huge inconvenience. The corner of his mouth twitched with amusement. Maybe she wasn't the innocent woman he'd thought her to be, but there was something very enticing about this version of her.

Was it possible for them to start over?

He blinked on that thought and considered the possibilities. If she was in earnest and she'd truly turned against Harlowe and Kendrick, she'd make a formidable ally.

"Is there anything else I need to know?" For this to work, there could be no more secrets between them.

She nodded, sending a frisson of apprehension straight down his spine. "I accompanied Wycliff to a clandestine meeting right before you and I married. He claimed I owed him for being allowed to use Isak, despite having paid for the boy's time." She rolled her eyes. "Anyway, I wanted my dealings with Wycliff over, besides which I'm not one to leave debts unpaid."

"Wycliff's a right bastard. You never should have gotten involved with him in the first place."

"The point is," she said, not addressing his criticism, "Wrengate showed up – something about a shipment Wycliff had promised to steal on his behalf. The duke lost his patience when Wycliff failed to produce the goods and turned a couple of thugs loose on us. I was left with no choice but to kill them."

"How?" An asinine question perhaps, but her statement was so shocking he spoke the first word he could think of.

"By thrusting a blade into one man's gut and into the other man's throat. Left me rather shaken if I'm to be honest."

He gaped at her in dismay, recalling all too well what his first kill had been like. His father had been watching, waiting to see if he'd back out. He hadn't. Somehow he'd managed the deed and had held himself together until he'd been by himself. At which point he'd vomited until there was nothing left in his stomach. The incident had invaded his dreams for several months after, but at least he'd had Murry to offer support and comfort.

Who had been there for Samantha?

Another more pressing thought caused him to leave that question behind in favor of saying, "So Wrengate saw you?"

"Yes, but I wore a hooded mask. He has no idea it was me."

"Do you know…" He tapped his finger against his armrest. "I'm suddenly keen to spar with you properly. See what you're truly capable of."

"I've been looking forward to coming clean for that precise reason, because I believe I'm worth more to you as my true self. If you let me, I'll stand by your side through thick and thin, no matter the danger."

A thrill of excitement unfurled in his gut. "Do you swear it?"

She stood and he watched with ever increasing fascination as she raised one side of her skirt to reveal the dagger strapped to her thigh. One swift movement unsheathed it. A second flash of the blade sliced her palm. His heart thrummed as she rounded the desk, stepped toward him, and offered the blade.

It was the one he'd gifted to her weeks before when he'd feared for her safety. His fingers grasped the mother-of-pearl handle, curling over the smooth surface. He slid the sharp edge over his skin without hesitation, felt the sting and watched the blood rise from the wound.

Samantha stuck out her palm and he clasped it, his gaze holding hers with binding force.

"Upon my honor, I shall serve and protect you until my dying breath," she declared.

A promise he did not doubt for one second. Sincerity burned bright in her eyes, and he couldn't resist. Not any longer. Not when he'd craved her for so very long.

Clasping her hand, he pulled her into his lap, captured her mouth in a searing kiss, and relished the sweet surrender. He no longer wanted to punish or restrain, choosing instead to guide them both back to the path they'd strayed from. It hadn't felt safe before, but that had since changed. She'd opened his eyes, forced him to see, and now that he had, there was no going back.

A soft moan heightened his awareness, each teasing scrape of her teeth sending hot little darts of desire across his skin. Damn it all, but he wanted her. So very badly. And yet, there was more for them to discuss before he could make her completely his.

For their bodies and souls to truly be united as one, he'd have to lay himself bare as well. So he kissed her again, hard and fierce, before setting her back on her feet. The dazed look in her eyes caused endless satisfaction to streak through his veins. The smile he gave her was probably smug. It couldn't be helped.

"Here, use this." He gave her a handkerchief with which to clean the smeared blood from her palm. Retrieved an additional one from his desk drawer, which he used to wrap his own hand. Tracked her every movement as she returned to the chair she'd occupied earlier. Waited for her to sit before saying, "As you probably know, Orendel came to see me. He wants me to track down his daughter's killer so he can enact his own justice."

Samantha didn't so much as flinch. "Sounds reasonable. I'd like to help, if you'll allow it."

"Of course." It would be so damn good for them to be working together again. He looked forward to every second of it. So he told her what he'd learned thus far and gave her an update on Mr. Jones's murder as well.

Her expression turned pensive. She bit her lip, eyed him briefly, and finally said, "There's a favor I'd like to ask of you. It pertains to Isak."

"The errand boy?" He wasn't sure how he factored in to any of this.

"He came to me for help the other day, looking worse than a bare-knuckle fighter who'd just lost the last ten matches. Turns out, Wycliff's taken to beating him. And that's not the worst part."

What she told him next made Adrian's stomach coil. A quiet rage started brewing inside him, hardening every muscle until he felt on the point of snapping.

"If we can pull Isak away from that life, he can help me keep up my ruse with Kendrick. The boy is loyal. He has potential and I…" She took a deep breath. "I'd like to do what I can for him. Harlowe refused."

"Did he now?" Adrian gritted his teeth. How could anyone be so callous as to ignore a child in need? He stood, the movement banishing some of the tension gripping his body. "You needn't worry. I'll handle Wycliff."

Her eyes widened slightly in quiet acknowledgement of what that meant. Rather than question him though, she gave a nod to convey her support.

Pleasure spilled through him. He sent her a smile. "The hour grows late. I think we ought to retire."

Confusion showed in the slight puckering of skin at the bridge of her nose. She glanced at the clock. "It's not even seven. Dinner has yet to be served, besides which I thought we might get to work on creating a list of those who were present at Orendel House the night Lady Eleanor was killed."

"I've already done so. You may review the names tomorrow." Angling his head, he gave her a thoughtful look before asking, "Are you actually hungry or can dinner wait?"

"Why? What do you have in mind?" When he said nothing, she sighed as if in surrender. "It can easily wait."

He rounded the desk and extended his hand. "In that case, I'd like for us to have our wedding night. It's long overdue, don't you think?"