Hell, Adrian had considered doing the same.He’d been furious when he’d learned that the man he’d trusted without question had so blatantly betrayed him.
And yet…
Samantha’s words resonated.
Murry had always acted as an extension of Adrian’s will.He’d risked his life for him and for Samantha.If he’d chosen to act against Adrian’s wishes — against Wrengate’s, so to speak – he must have his reason.
“Where are they?”Wrengate’s voice boomed like thunder.
The man Wrengate addressed looked straight past him, at Adrian.“Mr.Croft?”
“In the flesh.”Adrian stepped to Wrengate’s side.“It’s my understanding my valet has rented one of your rooms.If you could please direct us to it, I’d be grateful.”
“Of course.”The innkeeper gestured for them to follow, then led the way to the back of the taproom and up a narrow flight of stairs.
Adrian’s feet fell heavily on each step.While he himself intended to punish Murry for his insubordination, he’d no intention to kill him.The same could not be said of Wrengate, whose fury echoed Adrian’s feelings toward Finn O’Leary.One day, he’d put that Irish bastard in the ground for daring to touch his wife.
So yes, Adrian knew exactly what Wrengate was going through — the fear and blind rage that were driving him mad.He’d unleash it on Murry as soon as he found him, and though Adrian wished there were some way in which to avoid it, he knew there wasn’t.All he could pray for was for Wrengate’s aim to be off, or for him to hesitate killing a man in his sister’s presence, or…for some other miracle to intervene.
They stepped onto the landing and proceeded down the hallway, each floorboard creaking beneath the weight of their feet.After passing three doors on their left, the innkeeper stopped in front of the fourth, and knocked.
“The key,” Wrengate demanded.
The innkeeper looked to Adrian.“Would it not be best to—”
“I can break the door down if you prefer,” Wrengate growled.
“Please open it,” Adrian said, earning a thunderous glare from the duke who clearly disliked another man’s orders trumping his own.
A key was produced, and the innkeeper pushed it into the lock.A few swift turns of his wrist made it click into place.He pressed down the handle and started to open the door.
Impatient, Wrengate shouldered him out of the way and pushed the door open.Adrian sent the innkeeper an apologetic look, then followed the duke into the room.
It was instantly clear that it was empty.No sign of Murry or Lady Edwina.Yet Wrengate’s penetrating gaze swept each surface, as though he expected his sister to make a surprise appearance from underneath the bed or from behind one of the curtains.
Adrian kept his expression cool, deliberately schooled in an effort to hide his relief.Murry wasn’t a fool.He’d realized the longer he stayed here, the greater the chance of being found.Which also meant the chance of discovering his whereabouts now were slim to none.Moving forward, he’d take precautions based on the new situation he found himself in.
The most interesting question in all of this, however, was why he’d done it.
Until last night, Adrian would have bet his life that nothing would ever make Murry betray him.Yet it seemed his interaction with Lady Edwina had.A woman he’d known only briefly.It made no sense.
Wrengate, who’d crossed to the window, presently leaned through the opening.“There’s a damn ladder here.How the bloody hell is that possible?”
Adrian glanced at the innkeeper, whose face had paled.Saying nothing, he approached the window and looked out.“I… It must have—”
Wrengate’s hand moved so fast it blurred.In the space it took Adrian to blink, the duke had wrapped his fingers around the innkeeper’s throat.The man’s eyes bulged.Adrian advanced a step at the same time Wrengate shoved the innkeeper into the wall.Back hunched, he produced a snarl.
“I will ruin you over this,” Wrengate spat.
“Your anger is getting the best of you,” Adrian said, directing the duke’s attention away from the wheezing man in his grasp.“It’s doubtful anyone here believed the woman we’re after was not Mr.Murry’s wife.”
Adrian held Wrengate’s gaze with unflinching purpose.He’d deliberately avoided any mention of who they sought, lest word get out that Lady Edwina had spent the night at an inn with a valet.If public knowledge of her kidnapping might have ruined her, this would obliterate any chance she had of ever returning to polite society.
Yet Murry was not the sort of man who’d force a woman’s hand.According to the missive he’d sent Adrian, she’d requested Murry’s help.Which meant she’d been willing to risk the consequence of running away with a male servant.
Again, Adrian wondered over the why of the situation, his attention still on the furious duke who seemed ready to murder a man who’d done nothing but offer accommodations to what had probably looked to him like a married couple.
Awareness crept through him.Lady Edwina, the victim.Murry, her protector.Not just from those who’d meant to abuse her, but from this.From a brother who struggled to leash his temper.
