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I t was proving difficult for Adrian to focus on what his dinner guests were saying. With evidence of yet another murderer luring victims to their demise, his thoughts kept wandering to Polly Griffin.

Since she’d been in Ottersburg’s employ, it was possible that the footman the viscount’s friend had mentioned during their conversation at White’s had vanished in a similar way though he had yet to be found.

Adrian sipped his wine and tried to focus on what Eldridge was saying.

Something about his eldest son wanting to purchase a horse which the duke believed to be overpriced.

“Of course, my wife is backing him,” Eldridge said. He sent everyone a hasty look as though realizing he might have said more than he should. He cleared his throat. “She loves the boys with all her heart and wants to give them the world.”

“As any good mother should,” Wrengate murmured. “A pity we don’t see more of her.”

“Is she not at Kepwick Abbey?” asked the Duchess of Moorland. She added a pleasant smile that failed to fool Adrian. Lady Moorland and Eldridge’s wife were first cousins, so there was little doubt she knew of the duke and duchess’s marital troubles. More to the point, she probably blamed Eldridge.

“She is,” Eldridge returned the Duchess of Moorland’s smile. “The countryside suits her though it does not prevent her from having her say. Her letter-writing skills are exceptional.”

Mr. Abernathy and his wife both coughed while Samantha appeared to choke on her food. She quickly recovered and reached for her glass which she raised with a wide grin. “To the Duchess of Eldridge, whose absence is dearly missed.”

Eldridge scowled but answered the toast.

Wrengate, the sly bastard, chose to ask, “Have you even met her?”

Adrian growled in response to his disrespectful tone while Moorland looked ready to leap to Samantha’s defense. Outrage widened Lady Moorland’s eyes and the Abernathys’ gazes darted about as though they were unsure of how to respond. Eldridge merely raised his brow.

Seemingly unruffled, Samantha sent Wrengate a cool look that bordered on indifference.

Good girl. She would not allow him to rile her.

“I’ve not yet had the pleasure,” she said, “but if Eldridge, whom my husband and I have the highest respect for, chose to wed her, then she must be quite a remarkable woman.”

“She is indeed,” Eldridge said, abandoning whatever rift he had with his wife in favor of backing Samantha’s statement.

The comment, however, led to a lull in the conversation, allowing Adrian’s thoughts to return to Polly Griffin. He and Kendrick had discussed her with Fellowes while Murdoch went to get some fresh air.

The skin at the back of her wrists had been irritated, which could have occurred if she’d been bound. Furthermore, her lungs showed signs of asphyxiation, but the lack of markings on her neck made Fellowes dismiss the idea that she could have been strangled.

Rather, he believed the traces of laudanum found in her stomach, along with wolfsbane, cannabis, and other plant remnants, was a far more likely culprit.

In which case it seemed someone had bound Miss Griffin, then drugged her.

Without her resisting or the skin on her wrists would have been more damaged.

“Adrian?”

Adrian blinked and realized Samantha had spoken his name to gain his attention and that his guests awaited an answer. He frowned and tried to recall the question. Something about what he meant to do now that he’d been acquitted?

A quick glance at Wrengate provided the answer. “I intend to help Bow Street in their hunt for murderous villains.”

“Good heavens.” Lady Moorland exchanged a horrified look with her husband. “Are you saying there might be more?”

“Possibly, though it’s still too soon to know for certain.”

“In other words?” Mr. Abernathy pressed.

“Additional information has to be gathered before we can know for certain.” Adrian met Samantha’s gaze across the table and noted the fire that burned there. She was just as eager to join the hunt for Miss Griffin’s killer as he was.

“All things considered, I’m surprised Bow Street will let you interfere,” Wrengate murmured.

“They value my insight,” Adrian said. “After all, I did try to tell them Benjamin Lawrence was guilty of murdering Lady Eleanor.”

“Not just her, but two other people as well,” Eldridge said. “As much as I sympathize with his family, I’m glad Croft managed to kill him.”

“A sentiment I’ll happily second,” Moorland said with a very definitive nod.

“Perhaps that’s your calling then.” Something cold and unyielding lurked behind Wrengate’s eyes. “Avenging innocent lives by ridding the world of those who took them.”

Adrian stared at the duke without flinching. “The only life I mean to avenge is my sister’s.”

Wrengate scoffed. “Come now, Croft. The man who killed her is dead – by your hand, I’m sure. There’s nothing left to avenge.”

“I did not harm Clive Newton in any way,” Adrian lied. He would take the truth of what had occurred in his cellar to his grave. “But even if I had been given the chance to make him pay for what he did to Evelyne, it would not be enough when I know someone else engineered her death.”

Mrs. Abernathy and Lady Moorland both gasped. Eldrige leaned forward a little and looked to Adrian with incredulity. “Am I to understand that someone made your sister match the profile of Clive Newton’s victims?”

“Precisely.” Adrian kept his attention firmly on Wrengate. The man’s expression remained unflappable. Not even a statue could have appeared more unmoved by Adrian’s revelation. “It’s my intention to figure out who. That will be my ultimate purpose moving forward.”

“While I understand your reasoning,” Moorland said after a brief silence, “I doubt it will be as rewarding as you imagine. If I were you, I’d take comfort in knowing the man who actually took her life is gone, and focus on your blessings instead.

Last week you were on your way to the scaffold.

Yet here you are now, back home with your lovely wife. Do you honestly want to lose that?”

The concern with which Moorland spoke made Adrian stop and think. He did have a valid point. If he found the man who’d sent Clive Newton after Evie, there was no doubt in his mind that he’d kill him. And that act could put everything he had just gained at risk.

Considering what he knew, he was confident the person he sought was someone high-ranking. If he were accused of murdering them, he’d be sentenced to death, and this time there would be no getting off the hook. Of that he was certain.

Even so, he knew there was no escaping his duty. Turning his back on this goal and letting the person who’d taken Evie from him walk away unscathed was unthinkable. But maybe it was best to keep that to himself.

“You’re right,” he said and sent a deliberate smile toward Samantha. “The man who wielded the blade is gone, and I have a new lease on life. It would be foolish to squander that.”

“A wise decision.” The statement, spoken by Wrengate, made Adrian feel like slamming his fist against the table.

He forced the urge under control and made a mental note to keep the duke under added surveillance. Given all he knew of the man, it was becoming increasingly clear that Wrengate wasn’t nearly as honorable as someone in his position should be.

* * *

Samantha wasn’t the least bit fooled by Adrian’s supposed decision to stop looking for the man responsible for his sister’s death. It was the main reason behind his decision to stay in England and forge a path that would take him home. Had it been up to her, he wouldn’t have risked it.

But she understood the goal that drove him.

Consequently, she also knew there was no way in hell he’d be giving it up.

Anything he said to the contrary was no more than smoke and mirrors. A deception intended to trick another deceiver. Whether or not the Duke of Wrengate would be revealed as that person, she wasn’t sure. They would need concrete proof to determine his guilt.

Allowing their dislike of the man or the fact that they knew him to be involved in underhanded activities to cloud their judgement could lead them both down a dangerous path.

One in which they caught the wrong man, suffered the consequences, and allowed the true villain to slip between their fingers.

It was vital she remind her husband of this, lest he lose focus.

Especially since Wrengate seemed intent on conflict.

The man was exceedingly boorish. It almost seemed like he thought it his right to behave as he pleased on account of his rank.

Either way, he clearly didn’t care what anyone else here this evening thought of him. A sentiment that made her wonder.

“Do either of you know who Wrengate’s closest friends are?” she asked Mrs. Abernathy and the duchess once they’d removed themselves to the parlor for tea, leaving the men to enjoy their after-dinner drinks.

Not that she cared, but now that she and Adrian were looking into him, it would be prudent to gather as much information as possible in order to form a larger impression of who he was as a person.

“I’m not sure he has any.” The duchess reached for her cup. She presently reclined in one of the two wingback chairs the room had to offer – a piece crafted by Chippendale and upholstered with cream-colored silk.

Samantha and Mrs. Abernathy had taken up seats on the matching sofa opposite her.

“Everyone has friends of some sort or other,” Samantha said.

“Not Wrengate.” The duchess sipped her tea. “He keeps to himself unless there’s a social event important enough to warrant his putting in an appearance.”

“And yet he’s here this evening.”

“A surprising occurrence, I assure you.”

Adrian had mentioned he’d informed Wrengate that two other dukes might attend. Apparently they’d held enough sway to make sure he showed up. Unless he had other reasons for doing so?

“Isn’t Wrengate the one with the bed-ridden sister?” Mrs. Abernathy asked.

Samantha blinked. “What?”

Mrs. Abernathy squinted as though attempting to pull an elusive thought into sharper focus.

“One of the journalists in my husband’s employ wrote an article about her some years ago.

It was pulled from the paper before it was printed.

Something about an accusation pertaining to the invasion of privacy and being threatened with legal action.

Lots of fuss and such. Too much for the article to be worth it. ”

“So your husband scrapped it?” Samantha asked.

“Yes.” Mrs. Abernathy’s frown deepened. “I’m fairly sure the whole business involved Wrengate, though there’s every chance I’m mistaken. As someone who’s not a member of Society and has little interest in gossip, I tend to struggle with keeping track of all the titles and family connections.”

“The incident you described does sound like the sort of thing Wrengate would have been involved in.” The duchess cradled her teacup and saucer between her hands.

“And he does have a sickly sister though I’ve no idea what sort of state the poor girl is in these days.

She vanished right before she was meant to make her debut.

Around the same time Wrengate’s parents died in that terrible fire. ”

“How awful,” Samantha murmured, her thoughts already on the ways in which such a tragedy could have shaped the duke.

The duchess nodded. “Naturally, it made sense for their children to need time in which to recover, though it seems they continue to keep to themselves. It wasn’t until one of the Faintree Hall maids found a new job at Ottersburg House that word of Lady Claire’s sickness got out.”

The mention of Ottersburg House caused Samantha’s spine to straighten. “I don’t suppose the maid in question was Polly Griffin.”

“I don’t know,” said the duchess. “That name doesn’t ring any bells but then again one is rarely made privy to the names of servants in other people’s households. Why do you ask?”

Samantha hesitated briefly, aware that both ladies awaited her response. After a brief deliberation she chose to be candid. “Evidence may suggest she was murdered.”

“Good heavens.” Mrs. Abernathy’s hand had gone to her throat, her eyes wide with horror. “That’s the case your husband intends to help Bow Street solve, isn’t it?”

“Yes.” Intent on learning if either woman might be able to help with the investigation, Samantha asked, “I don’t suppose either of you know of other servants who’ve suddenly left their positions without putting in notice?”

“Should only servants be considered?” Lady Moorland inquired. “I’m not sure Mr. Hillford is being honest about his wife’s disappearance. That woman enjoyed her social status too much to simply abscond.”

Samantha tried for a bland expression. It would not do to let anyone know what had truly happened to Mrs. Hillford, who was probably still on her way to Turkey. A punishment Adrian had seen to because of the part the woman played in selling children into slavery.

She sipped her tea, then said, “We don’t know what her life was like. If she was unhappy with her lot and found a way to escape it, she may have leapt at the chance.”

“As I recall, she has two children whom she also left behind.” Mrs. Abernathy shook her head. “I don’t understand how any mother could do such a thing.”

“Neither do I,” said Samantha. “Whatever the case, it would seem she left by choice. As such, her disappearance should not be grouped with the servants. If there are any other such incidents you can think of, it may prove useful.”

“I…” the duchess began with a shake of her head, only to pause as though reminded by something.

She tilted her head in thought, her lips slightly parted.

And then she said, “Now that I think of it, I believe Lady Albourne made a reference to such an incident earlier in the year when she and her husband hosted a soiree.

“When the duke and I arrived, her ladyship seemed extremely flustered. She apologized profusely for a delay in serving refreshments, which she blamed on a maid who’d failed to show up.”

“Did she offer any suggestion as to why the maid wasn’t there?” Samantha asked. When the duchess shook her head, she followed up the question with another. “Do you know if the maid returned to her duties later?”

“I’ve no idea, but since you asked specifically about missing servants, I thought I’d bring this to your attention.”

Samantha nodded. “Thank you.”

“If the maid failed to return,” Mrs. Abernathy mused, “Lady Albourne might have filed a missing person’s report. Could be worth looking into.”

Samantha smiled and took a sip of her tea. She intended to do precisely that. Just in case the incidents shared a connection.