Chapter 41

41

N early an hour passed between Adrian's departure from The Toothless Cat and his return. Panic reached beneath his sternum when he found Samantha gone from the room where he'd left her. The floor, he noted, was swept, not a shard of glass remaining, the curtains billowing in the breeze wafting in through the broken window.

Turning his back on the scene, he raced back downstairs.

"Miss Carmichael," Adrian snapped, his hand grabbing a maid's wrist and halting her progress. It was the same one who'd shown him upstairs earlier. When she shook her head with incomprehension he said, "The woman who was shot. Where is she?"

"The innkeeper put her in one of the supper rooms over there. The one farthest to the right. A physician's attending her."

Adrian muttered a quick, "Thank you," and strode toward the spot she'd pointed toward. Without pausing to knock, he opened the door he believed was correct and froze when he spotted Samantha.

She was alive, yes, but lying on a table, her face turned away from the door. An elderly man of slim build, his thinning grey hair neatly combed to one side, bowed over her. The needle he wielded pierced Samantha's skin and slipped through, catching the opposite edge of raw flesh and pulling it neatly shut.

Adrian drew a ragged breath and shifted his gaze. He spotted Lawrence, his overall appearance that of a man who'd been trampled by a runaway carriage. Slouched in a chair in the corner, he pressed a slab of meat to his puffy eye.

"How is she?" Adrian asked, of no one in particular.

The physician glanced up, peering over a pair of spectacles. "She'll be fine. We're almost done."

Relief flooded Adrian's body, washing away much of his apprehension, though it didn't quite slow his pulse. It would likely keep racing until she'd fully recovered.

"I thought it best to get help," Lawrence said, his voice hoarse.

Adrian nodded. "You did well. Thank you. And um…I hope you can forgive my attack. It shouldn't have happened."

"No, I don't suppose it should have," Lawrence agreed. "But I understand and I do forgive your mistake."

"Did you at least catch the right man in the end?" Samantha asked. Her voice was steady, though it did sound as though she was gritting her teeth.

"I did. Turns out it was Clive Newton."

"Really?" Samantha would have sat up, had the physician not used a firm hand to hold her against the table.

"He's…in a safe place," Adrian added, already regretting how much he'd said in front of Lawrence and the physician. "I'll speak with him later, after I help you get home."

"Thank you, but you don't have to do that," Samantha told him. The physician tied off the thread he'd used and placed a compress on top, which he secured with a bandage. "I can easily take a hackney on my own."

"Absolutely not." If there was one thing he needed to do for his own peace of mind, it was see her safely back to Clearview. "I'll escort you as soon as you're ready."

"But what ab—"

"We're not discussing this." Hoping to avoid additional protests from the stubborn woman, Adrian told the physician, "I'll pay you whatever you're owed."

He made the innkeeper a similar offer before taking his leave, assuring him he'd cover all the repairs if he sent him the bill. Once in the street, Adrian hailed two hackneys, one for himself and Samantha, the other for Lawrence.

He handed Samantha up into the first one and turned to Lawrence. "I'd also like to express my sympathy for your brother. Losing the use of one's legs cannot be easy."

"He's in a terrible state, truth be told. It's a daily struggle."

Adrian could only imagine. He nodded. "Once again, my apologies for what happened. If there's any way in which I can make it up to you, don't hesitate to ask."

"Thank you. I'll keep that in mind."

Adrian nodded and gave directions to his driver before climbing into the carriage. It took off as soon as the door had been shut.

"What the hell were you thinking?" he asked. The dread he'd experienced, briefly buried while he dealt with Newton, pushed its way back to the surface. "You could have been killed, Samantha. Did that thought enter your head even once?"

"No." She leaned against the opposite side of the carriage, her gaze on the dark view beyond the window. "I caught a movement out of the corner of my eye. When I turned, I spotted a figure leaning through the window across the way. Despite the dark, there was no question about his intentions, and in that moment, my only thought was of saving you."

Adrian's heart shivered with some sort of deep ineffable feeling. His arm came around her, drawing her close to his side. He pressed his lips to the top of her head – a gentle kiss to comfort and reassure her.

"Promise me you won't ever do something so foolish again."

A soft laugh rippled through her. "You ask the impossible. I cannot curb my instinct. Nor would I forgive myself if I stood by and watched you get hurt when I was in a position to stop it."

"Samantha…"

"Don't tell me to do what you yourself would not be able to, Adrian."

He sighed. Perhaps a different subject of conversation would serve them better. "Harlowe won't be pleased when he sees you like this."

"He's furious with me after last night. Ordered me to stay in my room until further notice. I'm not supposed to be out of the house."

"Another reason for me to see you home." He caught her hand and gave it a squeeze. "As your fiancé, I've every right to your company, Samantha. I'll remind him of that."

She sighed. Her head settled heavily against his shoulder. "He'll see I was shot and will want to know what happened. And besides, our engagement isn't real. With Newton caught, there's no reason to keep up the ruse."

"Isn't there?" That deep indefinable feeling filled him once more, only this time it twisted and turned as though trying to free itself from something awful.

He took a deep breath, focused on what it was like to have her back in his arms safe from harm, on the warmth of her hand, the soft exhale flowing over her lips, that sweet scent of jasmine caught in her hair.

"I'd be a liar and a fool if I didn't admit my fondness for you. You've proven a constant friend, beyond supportive at every turn. To be honest, no woman has ever impressed me more." He drew her a little nearer. "Add to that the fact that we get along, enjoy similar interests, and share an attraction. I believe I'd be making the biggest mistake of my life if I didn't propose to you in earnest. So I ask you now, Samantha Carmichael, if you will do me the honor of taking me as your husband."

A brief hesitation followed. It was enough to make his stomach contract. But then she lifted her head, allowing their gazes to meet while she gave him her answer. "I will."

Her words calmed him, eased away tension and doubt, replaced them with deep contentment and a strong faith in the future. An unsteady breath revealed how much her agreement meant to him.

Cupping her chin, he stroked the delicate edge of her jaw with his thumb before leaning in.

A kiss to seal the new bond they'd forged. The first of many to come. A flickering hope of light vanquishing darkness. As long as his world didn't destroy her.

She'd no idea what she was getting into, and if he were noble and good, he'd warn her, accept the risk of losing her forever. But he wasn't either of those things. If what he intended to do when he returned home proved anything at all, it was that he was utterly ruthless.

* * *

A dull ache permeated Samantha's entire left side. It would take days for it to subside and more than a week for the wound to heal. The brandy Harlowe had given her when she returned to Clearview was a soothing balm.

She took another sip and considered Harlowe's somber expression. He'd met her and Adrian in the foyer, his attention going straight to the torn fabric of her spencer before he'd ushered both of them into his study.

"I don't believe an explanation is too much to ask for," he said, his cool blue gaze on Adrian. "Within the course of two days, Samantha's reputation has been ruined beyond compare, yet you still declared a desire to wed her. Surprising, though not as much as her getting shot immediately after. While in your company."

"We were—"

"Not you," Harlowe snapped, cutting Samantha off. "I want to know what Mr. Croft has to say about this."

Adrian's entire bearing changed in response to Harlowe's sharp tone. He drew back his shoulders and pushed his chest forward. His dark eyes reflected the light from the oil lamp on Harlowe's desk, the overall appearance that of a dangerous cat ready to pounce.

"I'll explain," Adrian said, his voice terrifyingly smooth. "But if you ever raise your voice to Samantha again or disrespect her in any way, you'll make a permanent enemy of me. Is that clear?"

A stubborn gleam entered Harlowe's eyes, but he eventually nodded.

"As my fiancée," Adrian went on, "she's under my protection. Apologize to her so we can move on with our discussion."

Samantha froze. She'd never heard anyone pressure Harlowe before. Adrian, it seemed, had zero qualms about doing so, which made one thing blatantly clear. He was confident enough in his power to know he could force other men to yield. It was that threat of what he might do, the suspicions of what he was capable of, that could bend other men to his will.

Concrete proof of his involvement in criminal conduct could strip him of that control.

As his wife, she'd be in the perfect position to find any evidence that might be used against him. If she desired to do so. Harlowe and Kendrick would both expect her to stay on mission, but neither of them truly cared about her, whereas Adrian did.

A deciding factor that shifted the balance.

Going forward, her loyalty would be to her husband.

Harlowe slid his gaze over to her. His jaw worked, clenching against the words he'd have to utter. "Forgive me for interrupting you in such a curt manner. It was inconsiderate of me and shan't happen again."

"Good enough," Adrian said. He leaned back, the movements he made with his glass causing his brandy to swirl. "Samantha was shot while helping me track down the Mayfair Murderer. She and I devised a plan, part of which included last night's scene with Marsdale. I'm sorry about the disruption that caused to your evening."

"You were attempting to bait the killer," Harlowe said, his voice hardening as he spoke. "In doing so, you deliberately put her in harm's way."

"A regrettable outcome." Adrian's comment contained no hint of the open distress he'd shown in the moment. Had she not experienced it first hand, she'd have thought him indifferent. "Unfortunately the killer proved more cunning than we expected. I…wish our efforts had led to his capture, but…"

Samantha's mind raced in the wake of the lie, even as she made every effort to hide her surprise. Was Adrian testing her to see if she would stand by him no matter what? Or were his plans for Newton such that he didn't want anyone tracing what might happen next back to him? Perhaps a bit of both?

"You mean to say he got away?" Harlowe asked. "After everything you put her through, he slipped through your fingers?"

"I wasn't about to leave Samantha wounded and alone while I chased down the villain." Raising his glass, Adrian took a moment to let the remainder of his brandy slide down his throat. "No need to worry, though. Her wound will heal soon enough and her reputation will be restored once she and I wed."

"Might I suggest a special license and an imminent union in order to speed that along?"

"Of course. I'll see to the special license in the morning. If all goes well, we should be able to speak our vows as soon as tomorrow evening." He glanced at Samantha. "Unless you desire more time to plan, in which case we might be able to wait a few days."

"No." It felt like the walls were caving in on her. Everything was happening so fast, her head was spinning. But with Kendrick's deadline nearly up, it was imperative that she place herself in a position to keep Adrian safe. A hasty wedding would do precisely that, so she forced herself to look excited. "The sooner the better."

The edge of his lips dimpled – a swift hint of approval before he told Harlowe, "As for the Mayfair Murderer, one can only hope what happened this evening will force the scoundrel to go into hiding."

"Has it not occurred to you that you may have hindered Bow Street's investigation by getting involved?" It sounded like Harlowe believed what Adrian told him. Samantha found no hint of suspicion in any part of his manner.

"I don't believe they would ever have caught him." Adrian stood, the conversation as far as he was concerned apparently at an end. He took Samantha's hand and, bowing, raised it to his lips. "I'll call on you tomorrow afternoon to see how you're doing and to confirm the time and location of our nuptials."

"I look forward to it already."

He smiled, the warmth in his eyes snaring her for a few seconds until he turned away, his long strides taking him from the room as he made his departure.

"You should have told me what you were up to," Harlowe informed her as soon as they were alone. "Instead, you deceived me."

"A necessity for the sake of authenticity. Your response to my indiscretion with Marsdale was real. It lent credence to the act."

"For all the good it did." Harlowe stood and crossed to the fireplace. He stared at the flames. A log snapped. "At least he's serious about getting married. As his wife, you'll have full access. More than you would have as his mistress."

The only thing of importance to Samantha was her ability to thwart potential attacks against the man who'd become her future. To Harlowe she said, "If there's proof of Croft's criminal dealings, I'll find it. You have my word."