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T he gentleman smiled in response to the news he’d received from his contact at Bow Street. Once again, Mr. Croft had proved successful, adding weight to the proof that he was a valuable asset. No other possessed his instinct for ferreting out and getting rid of the filth in the City.

Even Kendrick must surely realize by now that whatever success he achieved was gifted to him by Croft. Mrs. Croft, however, might be a problem, for although she’d served her use in ensuring Croft’s freedom, there was some concern she might lead him down the same path as his sister had.

Care and attention would have to be taken to make sure that didn’t happen.

For Miss Evelyne Croft’s death to matter, Mrs. Croft could not be allowed to encourage her husband to turn his back on his birthright.

Thankfully, this hadn’t yet been an issue, but there was no telling what the future might hold.

What he did know was that they were still in their early stages of marriage.

It was only the two of them, both more than capable of facing danger with the kind of ease most people used while taking a leisurely stroll.

But what would happen once the Croft family expanded, as families were wont to do?

The birth of a child would surely change their perspective. It might prompt Croft to consider quitting Town once more and relocating to some quiet spot where his greatest concern would be fixing a leaky roof or fetching wood for the fire.

The gentleman frowned on that thought while pouring himself a measure of brandy. There was no way in hell he could let that happen. So he downed the spicy liquid, letting one singular thought settle.

No matter the cost, Croft had to remain in play.

* * *

October 5, 1818

Seated in their private box at the Theatre Royal, Adrian turned to Samantha during the concert’s intermission. “Do you need to use the ladies retiring room?”

“No, and after spotting Harlowe earlier, I’d rather stay here.”

Adrian understood. While she and the man who’d raised her had come to some form of agreement, she had no wish to risk having to engage in conversation with him. “Do you mind if I step out for a moment?”

She arched a brow. “Do you have a choice?”

He chuckled. “Not if I’m to make it through the rest of this with my dignity intact.”

“You’d best heed nature’s call then.”

Rising, he dropped a quick kiss to her brow. “Shall I bring back champagne?”

“Please do. I’m absolutely parched.”

Adrian left the box and headed for the privy, which was located in a courtyard behind the theatre. Once done, he returned inside, climbed the stairs, and strode toward the lounge where the bar was located.

Although Samantha’s malaise had returned once or twice these past two weeks, it hadn’t been as bad as the first time. In fact, she appeared much improved, which did suggest it had merely been a sickness she’d had to work her way through.

Most importantly, Murry’s surgery had been a success. Adrian had prayed with all his might as they’d travelled the distance to St. George’s. He’d cursed every bend in the road slowing them down. And then there had been the surgery itself and what felt like hours of endless waiting.

He’d not been able to stand it. Or the utter relief that had crashed over him when he’d realized Murry would live. He’d nearly been brought to his knees.

It would take a while yet for Murry to make a full recovery, but Mr. Thrudledge, the surgeon on call when Murry arrived, assured Adrian all would be well. And with Ward and Turner also back in London as of yesterday afternoon, everything was finally getting back to normal.

He continued down the hallway, greeting a few acquaintances along the way, was almost at the door to the lounge when his path was intercepted by Wrengate. The duke stood tall, rigid, his brows slightly lowered over a pair of stern eyes.

While others might have cowered before him, Adrian merely shoved his hands in his pockets, his posture relaxed as he angled his head in question. “How delightful it is to see you here. I thought you’d left Town already.”

“Not yet.” Wrengate clasped his hands behind his back. “I saw this concert advertised and thought I’d enjoy it before departing.”

“I see.” Adrian offered a tight smile and began to step past when Wrengate caught his upper arm. Adrian dropped his gaze to the duke’s offending hand, his muscles already bunched, his body ready to beat the bastard until he begged for mercy. “Unhand me.”

Instead of doing as Adrian demanded, Wrengate leaned in. “You would do well to stay out of my affairs, Croft.”

“Why? Are you afraid of what I might find?” Adrian asked, his voice at least as lethal as the duke’s if not more so. It was time to remind the man who he was dealing with. “Be warned. If I discover that you played a hand in my sister’s death, I’ll put your head on a pike.”

A brief hesitation suggested the statement required time to process. And then, “I had nothing to do with that, but I may play a part in your wife’s demise if she doesn’t stand down.”

“You’re either extremely brave or extraordinarily foolish to threaten me so.”

“I know she was in my home,” Wrengate murmured. “Given what you’ve just revealed, I can only assume she was searching for clues.”

“You’re wrong,” Adrian lied. “My wife was never there.”

“The body type fits. As does the blonde hair I managed to tear from her head.” Adrian growled but Wrengate ignored him and added, “Had I not managed to catch her, I’d still be wondering about the identity of the person who killed my men some months ago, but now I know it must have been she.

Are you aware that she was collaborating with Wycliff? ”

“She never met the man, but what you’ve just told me suggests you did.”

Wrengate scoffed. “Your attempt at protecting her with deniability is a touch ridiculous, but I’ll accept it. Just know that if either of you ever crosses my path again, I’ll make sure you get the public executions you deserve.”

Adrian smirked. “Have you paid no attention to what’s going on, Wrengate?

I’m a law-abiding citizen with Bow Street on my side.

Not exactly the sort of man who gets sentenced to death.

Especially not when another effort to end my life would just support the opinion that I’m being unjustly hunted.

So why not abandon that thought and enjoy the rest of your evening? I know I plan to.”

A jerk of his arm released Wrengate’s hold, allowing Adrian to shove his way past him. He continued toward the bar without glancing back and ordered his drinks while doing his best to relax. Truth was despite all attempts at appearing unmoved by Wrengate’s words, the duke had rattled him.

The revelation that he’d figured out it was Samantha who’d snuck into his home – that it was also she who’d fought his men and killed them – was unnerving.

It put her at risk. Far greater risk than Adrian cared to admit.

Because Wrengate would be watching her now.

The threats he’d made against her should not be taken lightly.

He returned to his box and paused for a moment to study her seated figure until she sensed his presence and turned. Her face brightened as she found his gaze. A smile pulled at her lips, the pleasure in her expression expanding his heart to near bursting.

God help him but he loved this woman, and he would do all he could to protect her. Even though he often felt like she had no wish for his assistance.

He stepped toward her and offered her one of the glasses then took his seat and told her of his encounter. She listened intently, her brow slightly creased until he was done. And then she said, “You need not worry. I’ve no intention of interfering with Wrengate again.”

“You mean it?”

“He’s not the man you’re seeking. Whatever he may be up to, I don’t think it’s any business of ours.”

“We don’t know that for certain. Our handwriting analysis was inconclusive.”

“Which is why you should try to dig deeper. If he’s the man you’re seeking then you deserve your vengeance. But as far as I am concerned, he’s a problem I’d like to put behind me.”

Her readiness to give up on learning more about Wrengate’s activities was rather surprising. “Considering what he put you through, this surrender on your part has me at a bit of a loss. Anything I should know?”

She sipped her drink slowly, and Adrian’s stomach tightened, for he knew in that moment – sensed it in the way he always sensed her presence from across a crowded room – that his life was about to change. A chill swept his spine and he shuddered.

A discomfort that turned to pure dread when Samantha turned to him and said, “I’m with child.”

Mouth dry, he stared at her for a long moment while every fear he harbored tore through him.

His mother had died in childbirth. Now he faced the chance of losing his wife in a similar way.

And what if they had a daughter? How would he protect her from the dangers of the world when he’d not even managed to protect his sister?

Then again, it could be a boy, in which case the child would stand to inherit an empire nourished by threats, blackmail, and unforgiving ruthlessness. And why had none of this struck him sooner?

“Adrian?” Concern filled Samantha’s gaze. “Are you all right?”

“I…” Heaven help him, he couldn’t breathe, yet he somehow managed to rasp, “How long?”

“A month or so. Doctor Wolf confirmed it this morning. I went to see him while you met with Cummings.” Adrian had wanted to check on the progress his secretary had made thus far in reconstructing his files.

“My courses are long overdue at this point and bearing in mind the rest of the symptoms – the malaise and my sudden craving for lemon sorbet – Doctor Wolf is certain it cannot be anything else.”

“A month or so?” It felt like the world was spinning. “You’ve suspected you might be increasing these last two weeks, haven’t you? Since the first time you saw Doctor Wolf.”

“Yes but—”