“The law is reason, free from passion.”
Aristotle
AUGUST 26, 1821
With the arrival of dawn, Aidan opened his eyes. Gwen was still curled in his arms, and he wished he could remain here and pretend that there was no wrong in the world. That Lily was safe, that the baron had not been murdered, and that Smythe was not probably the killer.
But if not for those intrinsic truths, he would never have met Gwen. A thought that made his heart skip a beat in his chest. Raising a hand, he gently brushed her hair from her face and thought about how happy he was to have met her.
So be it. If this was his challenge, he woulddeal with it. Somehow he would hold on to Gwen and find the killer, even if it was Smythe.
He recalled the words she had mumbled against his skin as she had fallen asleep.
Pressing a kiss against her forehead, he whispered a vow. “I will endeavor to be worthy of your love. I promise this to you, Gwen Abbott.”
Aidan gently rolled Gwen back onto her pillow, where she shifted around in her sleep before settling back down. Carefully he rose from the bed, dressing in his clothes that were divested across the floor. He did not fail to notice that there were two empty spaces on Gwen’s wall where paintings once hung. Yet more sold-off valuables, he assumed.
Loping to the door, careful not to disturb his slumbering bride, Aidan cracked it open then slipped out into the hall where he found Buttercup waiting with bared teeth. Low growling informed him of his lack of welcome. Aidan swung the door wider, encouraging the animal to enter Gwen’s room. “Go, Buttercup. Go find Gwen.”
The dog did not need any further encouragement. She scampered in and took a leap to land on the side of the bed where Aidan had slept. Circling about for a moment, Buttercup collapsed down with her head tucked over one of her paws to stare at his sleeping bride.
Pulling the door closed, Aidan heard a creak behind him. Spinning around, he saw his father-in-law had come around the corner from the stairs.
“Mr. Smythe?”
Gwen’s father looked up with a start, furtively stuffing a notebook into his pocket and his face spreading into his customary wide grin.
“Aidan, my boy. It is a fine morning, I tell you. I have already been up and taking in the splendor of the sunrise.”
He kept his face composed, but Aidan noted that Smythehad to be lying. He was wearing the same clothes from the day before. It would appear the man was only just coming to bed. There had been no mention of attending societal events after the wedding, so the only conclusion to reach was that Smythe was hiding where he had been all night.
It was a chilling reminder of why Aidan had orchestrated moving into the Smythe home. He was here to investigate this man up close, and now that he had taken care of his obligations with Gwen, it was time to return to his mission.
Aidan fought down a frisson of frustration when Smythe passed him to enter his own rooms down the hall. If only Aidan had not been obsessing over making love to Gwen, he might have been here to follow Smythe and find out what his father-in-law was up to, but instead he had wasted hours the day before walking through London, dillydallying at his clubs, and receiving instruction from Trafford on carnal relations.
He would have to be more attentive, Aidan resolved. If he was ever going to sort out this muddle with Lily and Filminster, he would need to discover what Smythe was doing.
Aidan strode off in disappointment, lamenting lost opportunities and his wonderful night with Gwen forgotten with the bitter reminder that a killer was on the loose and Lily was relying on him to investigate Smythe.
Gwen wokeup and stretched out. Her wedding night had been far more than she had hoped for. Romantic poetry, making love, melting kisses, and soft caresses.
Turning over, she was disappointed to find she was all alone except for Buttercup. Aidan must have let her back into the room when he had left. The dog was asleep, with her long ears splayed out on the coverlet. Gwen smiled fondly.
Then she recalled her last words before sleep had overtaken her. She sat up in alarm, grabbing the sheet to cover her naked body.
Did I tell Aidan that I love him?
It could have been a dream. She had no clear recollection of making the decision to say it. It had just popped into her head. But perhaps she had simply drifted into slumber and it had been a figment of her imagination.
But had Aidan pulled her closer into his embrace?
Zounds! What a disaster if she had mumbled the words to him. It was too soon!
Gwen scrambled out of bed, ringing the bell to summon Octavia and racing around the room to wash up. She needed to locate her husband and then observe his reaction to her this morning.
Buttercup raised her head, drowsy eyes watching Gwen with a mild interest before lowering down to fall back to sleep.
Why? Why would I do that? We barely know each other!
