Suddenly angry, he swung toward her, only to get himself under control at the very last second.He swallowed hard and gritted his teeth, allowed a deep calming breath, then told her, “I did what was right, and I’d do it again if I had to.”
Something curious flickered within Mrs.Croft’s blue gaze.She didn’t believe him.Hell, he wasn’t so sure he believed himself either.
She jutted her chin toward his face.“I was referring to the marks left by Wrengate.”
“Right.”His jaw was still sore, his left eye still puffy.
The duke had launched himself at him as soon as they’d met, much like Croft had done when James returned right after the fire.He’d expected it — had actually thought the duke would kill him.But then Croft had said something, and the man had backed off, though not without issuing James a ferocious threat.
If you ever go near her again, I’ll shoot you dead.
And if I find out that you touched her, I’ll murder your master as well.
To Mrs.Croft James said, “I deserved to be punished.If anything, the duke was more lenient than most would have been.”
“No regrets then?”she asked, those quizzical eyes assessing.
“None at all,” he told her without even blinking.
What else could he say?That he hated himself for what he had done?That he resented her husband for making him turn his back on a woman who’d placed her trust in James?It wasn’t Croft’s fault.It was James’s.He only had himself to blame.Sympathizing with Lady Edwina, then helping her hide from her brother, had been a colossal mistake.
And for what?
She was a noblewoman.So high above his station she might as well be on the moon for all the difference it made.And why was he even thinking like that?It wasn’t as though it mattered.
In all likelihood, she’d forgotten about him already.
After all, he was only a valet.A servant who’d held her hair while she vomited into a bucket.An unrefined ruffian who’d no business being in the same room as her, never mind imagining he might be worthy of her affection.
Not that he was deluded enough to think in such terms.
He wasn’t.
It was all pointless nonsense.
* * *
Edwina’s only comfort was being reunited with Claire.She’d missed her sister terribly and had so much to tell her.More than what could be said in the space of one single day.
That was how long she’d been back here.
Her return to Faintree Hall had been swift.As soon as she’d arrived at Number 2 Cavendish Square, Sebastian had ordered the carriage be readied for when she’d finished bathing.Another demand he’d insisted upon.That she be scrubbed clean.
“Why didn’t you want to return home as soon as you’d been rescued from those horrid people?”Claire asked.
They were having tea in the sunroom.Between arriving here yesterday and now, Edwina had pieced together bits and pieces about her ordeal.Since the last thing she wanted from Claire was pity, or worse – for her to look at Edwina the way Sebastian had – she’d omitted the fact that she’d killed someone.
She also hadn’t mentioned James Murry.The man to whom she owed her life.
The very same man who’d betrayed her trust.
“I…” She shook her head.“I wanted to take charge of my situation, not give up more control.”
Claire tilted her head, confusion marking her features.“I don’t understand.”
A wobbly smile caught Edwina’s lips.Of all the people in the world, she believed Claire to be the only person who might.
“Do you remember how Sebastian used to treat you before you got sick?”A slow nod made her say, “And how does he treat you now?”
