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“Let’s not forget that Wrengate had no idea who you were. Had he done, I doubt he’d have ordered his men to kill you.”

Samantha wasn’t so sure. The harsh gleam she’d seen in the duke’s eyes on more than one occasion warned her he wasn’t a man to be trusted for any reason.

“Most importantly,” Adrian said, his voice dropping to a cool whisper, “I have to know whether or not he played a part in Evie’s death.”

“And to find out, you need to take a closer look at him.” She understood his motivation.

Sometimes a single conversation could reveal someone’s character and what that person might be capable of.

However, the very idea of letting Wrengate into their home – of having to entertain him – was enough to send a dark shiver straight down her spine.

“A dinner can take several hours,” Adrian pointed out. “And with the Moorlands and Eldridge also in attendance, I aim to distract Wrengate from my real reason for asking him to join us.”

Samantha picked up her cup and took a sip. “My biggest concern is that my acting skills won’t be sufficient to hide the extent of my loathing for him.”

A hint of humor finally flickered in Adrian’s eyes. His lips twitched but gravity filled every word when he finally said, “We’ve just had our lives restored. Let’s not change that by skewering a duke at our table.”

Samantha pressed her lips together, though not enough to contain the chuckle that forced its way up her throat. She dropped her gaze. “He’d look rather nice though, don’t you think? With a carving knife pinning him down.”

“What I think, dearest, is that I’m lucky you’re no longer hunting me .”

Samantha’s gaze snapped to Adrian’s, but rather than the accusation she feared she’d find in his intense expression, there was nothing but warmth. And a teasing bit of affection.

She relaxed against her seat, inhaled deeply, and smiled. “Me too.”

He reached for her hand, laced their fingers together, and pulled her closer so he could kiss her.

Whatever annoyance she’d felt previously evaporated like morning mist, replaced by the kind of calm only he could instill.

And the smell of him – the richness of sandalwood accentuating a scent uniquely his own – was enough to make her melt.

Honestly, if it weren’t for the footman standing nearby, she’d have climbed right into his lap. Instead, she pulled away and proceeded to top up her tea.

“Any news from Murry, Turner, or Ward?” she asked.

One of the first things Adrian had done upon returning home nearly two weeks ago was to write a letter inquiring after the three servants.

Last they’d seen each other was when they’d been running from the law together. They’d decided to split up and make their way to Brest in the north of France where Adrian’s maternal uncle, Monsieur Geoffrey Arceneux, had his estate.

The situation had quickly changed, however, bringing about a different outcome than either Adrian or Samantha expected. It was vital to Adrian that he inform his servants of this. Especially Murry, his valet, who also served as Adrian’s right-hand man and confidante.

“I keep hoping to hear from my uncle,” Adrian said. “Unfortunately, a letter from him has yet to arrive.”

“The mail can take time to travel.” The remark was intended to lift his spirits.

He arched an eyebrow. “At this rate, Murry will likely walk through the door before news about him reaches us.”

“Which would be a good thing, would it not?”

Adrian expelled a sigh even as he nodded agreement. “Of course.”

She pursed her lips and reached for another slice of toast. “Not to change the subject, but I hope you realize this dinner party you’ve planned is hardly conducive to the promise you’ve made the prime minister.”

“Samantha…” His low growl warned her he might be losing his patience.

“All I’m asking is for you to be careful.” She swallowed past the sudden discomfort forming in her throat. “The thought of losing you is…”

“I know,” he murmured and pulled her in for another kiss. “I feel the same about you, which means we would both be wise to leash our anger and show some restraint. Yes?”

A chuckle escaped her. She nodded and pressed her forehead to his, felt his breath against her skin, and kissed him again.

* * *

The gentleman leafed through the collection of newspapers he kept on file and frowned. A pattern had started emerging, but more information was needed for him to know if nefarious means were to blame.

People were known to go missing for a variety of different reasons. They didn’t have to have been killed in order to do so. Still, he continued to wonder about the maid who’d worked in his own employ last year. According to the butler, the girl had been most enthusiastic.

And then one day, she’d simply stopped showing up.

No one had said a word. It was unlikely anyone realized the young woman’s employer had noticed she’d been replaced. Few members of the upper-class paid attention to such matters. But he had. And he’d wondered about it.

He still did.

For if the maid had indeed been happy in his employ, then why leave without even bothering to put in her notice? And that was without questioning her reason for not requesting the pay she was owed.

It didn’t add up.

In fact, it made the gentleman fear the worst. Which was why he was very relieved by Mr. Croft’s return to Society. If something sinister was indeed going on, he’d learn of it soon enough.

And once he did, he’d hopefully make sure the villain was punished.