The same cleft Emily had.
Adrian had just turned twenty-eight. Emily was about to turn eighteen. The babe, had it lived, would have been—he calculated—twenty-four.
The man standing in front of him was clearly of the right age.
He reached out to steady himself. Vane caught his arm.
Adrian’s skin, where Vane had grabbed him, burst into flame. Good God. He’d never had the mite infested, spider-scuttling sensation in his arm before.
He pried himself from Vane’s grasp.
“Lord Redver?”
Several people were speaking to Adrian, but only Eliza’s voice penetrated the haze. She sounded worried.
“Miss Wainwright. Eliza. I—”
His mouth hung open. Nothing came out.
“Lord Redver?” Miss Wainwright repeated, taking a step in his direction. “Adrian.”
He blinked.
She was leaning toward him, hand outstretched. But he couldn’t touch her. He’d make her dirty.
He jerked away.
Where the devil had that thought come from?
“I-I apologize.” He gripped his arm and stumbled past her. “I-I must go.”
Once on the landing, he dashed down the front stairs two at a time. It was early to be headed for the Lyon’s Den.
He didn’t care.
There was only one place he could find answers. One person alive who he was certain had been his mother’s confidant.
Bessie would see him…whether she wanted to or not.
Adrian found Bessiesitting behind her desk, ostensibly reviewing papers. Her face, as always, obscured by a veil, remained lowered.
“Redver.” Bessie greeted as he entered her office. “What a surprise. I distinctly remember you insisting you weren’t ever going to return to my humble establishment.”
“I wasn’t.”
Even now, being here felt wrong.
Less than a fortnight had passed and yet he felt like an entirely different man. And the man he’d become intended to demand answers.
“What changed your mind?” she asked.
“Today I learned my mother corresponded with a friend. A friend besides you.”
Bessie said nothing.
“You told me you were her only correspondent.”
She set her quill into the holder and looked up. “I told you she posted packets to me. As far as I am aware, they were the only packets she risked sending. A packet, as you know, can contain multiple letters.”
