The Regency Season: Hidden Desires. Anne Herries

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       Chapter Four

      ‘Paul...’ Adam cried as he saw his cousin in the boot room removing the muddy boots he’d worn for riding. ‘Thank God you’re back safe. I was beginning to think you might have come to harm. There is a murderer out there and he might not have finished with this family.’

      Paul turned his head to look at him, a glare of resentment in his deep-blue eyes. ‘You’ve changed your tune. Earlier today you thought I’d killed Mark. Do not deny it, for I saw it in your eyes.’

      ‘You had the shotgun and...’ Adam shook his head. ‘I’m sorry if I doubted you. I know you loved him.’

      ‘So you damned well should,’ Paul muttered furiously. ‘Yes, I love Lucy and if she’d ever looked at me I should have asked her to marry me—but it was always going to be Mark. I would never have harmed him. You must know it, Adam?’

      ‘It was just something Mark said.’

      ‘Explain,’ Paul demanded and Adam told him word for word. He nodded. ‘I see why you might have thought—but I swear it was not me.’

      ‘Then you must be careful. I came here to go through the stuff Mark keeps here. I cannot search his rooms yet, but I need to be doing something. I want that devil caught, Paul. When I get him I’ll teach him a lesson he’ll not forget before I hand him over to the law.’

      ‘He won’t live long enough for the law to deal with him if I find him first,’ Paul said and cursed. ‘Mark didn’t deserve this, Adam. It makes me so angry...and it hurts like hell.’

      ‘Yes, it must. I know. We shall all miss him like the devil.’

      ‘It’s as if a light has gone out,’ Paul said and dashed a hand across his cheek.

      ‘We’ll find him,’ Adam promised. ‘We shall search until we find him whoever he is. He will not escape justice.’

      ‘I shall not rest until he is found.’

      ‘Nor I.’ Adam had begun to go through the pockets of Mark’s coats. He found an assortment of string, bits of wood and a receipt for two hundred guineas for a new chaise. ‘There is nothing here—unless he fell out with someone over this?’

      ‘The chaise he bought from Parker? No, nothing wrong there—they were both quite happy with the deal.’

      ‘Well, we must wait until after the funeral...’

      ‘Don’t!’ Paul said and struck the wall with his fist. ‘I can’t bear to think of him lying dead in his room.’

      ‘There is nothing you can do for him except help to find his killer.’ Adam placed a hand on his shoulder, but Paul shrugged it off and strode from the room, leaving him alone. He swore beneath his breath. ‘Damn it...damn it all to hell...’

      * * *

      ‘Miss...Jenny,’ Adam called as he saw her at the bottom of the stairs, clearly preparing to retire for the night. Her air of quiet composure struck him once more. What a remarkable woman she was—an oasis in a desert of despair. ‘Are you all right? Is there anything I can do for you—or Lady Dawlish?’

      ‘Lady Dawlish is with Lucy for the moment. I am going to the room, which I shall share with Lucy. Her mama is trying to persuade her to rest for a while. She looks so drained.’

      ‘Yes, she must be. I am relieved that she has you to turn to, Jenny. You have behaved with great restraint and yet so much sympathy. Many young ladies would have needed comforting themselves after what you saw.’

      ‘My feelings have been affected, but to give way at such a time when others had so much more right to be distressed would have caused unnecessary suffering. I did only what I considered proper, sir.’

      ‘No, no, you must call me Adam.’ He smiled at her. ‘You must know that your conduct has given me the greatest respect for your character. I think we were fortunate that you were here.’

      Jenny flushed delicately. ‘You make too much of my part. Lucy is my friend and I thought only of her feelings—and your family.’

      ‘Yes, precisely. But I am keeping you when I am certain you must need some privacy and a place to rest. Goodnight, Jenny.’ He took her hand and touched it briefly to his lips.

      ‘Goodnight...Adam.’

      She blushed prettily before turning away. Adam watched her mount the stairs. He noticed that she had a way of walking that was quite delightful. Her presence had lightened the load he might otherwise have found unbearable.

      A swathe of grief rushed through him, but he fought it down ruthlessly. He would not give way to the arrows of grief that pierced him; anger should sustain him—anger and his admiration for a quiet young woman who had problems of her own to combat, but had unselfishly thought only of her friends.

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