Page 12 of Nature of the Crime
As duke, he had many connections. So did Hugh, though his were mostly attached to the parts of London the aristocracy overlooked. The underbelly of the city, the criminals and gangs and places of vice he’d dealt with often while at Bow Street. There was no telling when those parts of society, or his connections to them, might come in useful. If he even wanted to help. The way he’d acted thus far, as if she’d done something to offend him, as if he was here out of mere duty alone, began to infuriate her.
“I’m sorry that you’ve needed to leave Genie for this,” she said to her brother-in-law.
He dismissed it with a shake of his head. “I could not leave my family in peril. Besides, Genie is being well cared for. Our physician is checking in regularly now.”
Cassie twitched her shoulders. “That is Dr. Brandt, if I recall?”
Audrey remembered her earlier concern about Lord Thornton.
“Yes, he’s been the family physician and accoucheur for ages, as you well know,” Michael replied.
“Well, he is rather ancient. I thought perhaps you’d consider someone who might still possess all their original teeth.”
Michael shot her a withering stare. “I am too tired for your humor, Cassie. I would like to settle into a room before we begindiscussing what is to be done. A whisky would not be amiss either.”
He did appear road weary, as did Hugh. However, the viscount looked in no way ready to retire to his room. He continued to stand at the filmy window, arms crossed over his chest.
“There are plenty of rooms for you and Lord Neatham,” Cassie told her brother, hooking his arm with her own. “Having an accused murderess under its roof has driven away travelers as effectively as a leprosy colony.”
“Cassie,” Michael chided as they left the sitting room, presumably to secure rooms with Mrs. Plimpton.
Audrey and Hugh weren’t allowed a moment alone. Sir joined them then, holding two travel cases. He let them both go, and they fell to the floor with an ungainlywhump. She had to hold back a gasp of surprise. Sir had grown at least three inches and was no longer painfully thin. It had been only five months, but he had changed dramatically.
“My goodness, Sir, you’re nearly as tall as me now,” she said, unexpectedly pleased to see him. She’d missed the boy’s scowl, his keen mind, and sharp tongue.
“If I take after my father, I won’t stop growing ‘til I reach the timber beams,” he said proudly. She noted an improvement in his speech, as well as a squeak in his voice that had not been there before. Good heavens, Sir was growing up.
Hugh turned from the window. “The packet office, Sir. See what you can find about the manifest.” He all but barked the command. Sir widened his eyes and backed away, tipping his hat to Audrey before fleeing.
Now, she and Hugh were well and truly alone. Her lips suddenly felt made of cement. She had so many things to ask him, and yet she was terrified to hear his responses. Terrifiedandfurious. The two emotions did not mix well. They left her feeling rather ill.
Hugh tried to release the tension in his shoulders by rubbing the back of his neck. Then, reluctantly, he faced her fully and met her stare. “We need to speak, alone.”
Her breath swelled in her throat.Need. The word perfectly described the magnetic pull she felt toward him. Even with all her confusion and doubt, it was still the loudest thing in the room.
“I believe wearealone.”
He glanced toward the sitting room entrance. Then shook his head. “Somewhere else. Where we won’t be interrupted.”
His mouth was a grim slash, without even a whisper of his usual good humor. This was not the man she had fallen in love with. This man was coolly distant, reserved. He looked at her as if she’d wronged him. She couldn’t stop herself from asking, “What have I done?”
Hugh’s eyes narrowed with bewilderment.
“After everything we’ve been through, what could I have possibly done to deserve this treatment from you?” Her voice trembled. Audrey tried to swallow the knot in her throat, though unsuccessfully.
“Treatment from me?” he echoed, anger edging the words. He let out a breath that was half laugh, half growl. “You ignore my letters for months, you leave me to wonder and worry and question whether or notanyof what happened between us was real, and you ask me what you’ve done?”
Audrey stared at him, uncomprehending. Without an ounce of elegance or grace, she stammered, “No, no, that is not what happened. How could I ignore your letters when I did not receive any?”
She knew she should curb her voice, that the inn was far too small, and anyone might be listening. But she no longer cared.Everything she’d been agonizing over was finally erupting, and she couldn’t stem it. “It wasIwho wrote letters that went unanswered. A dozen of them!”
The room went utterly quiet except for the soft pops of coals in the grate and blood rushing through her ears. Hugh’s unrelenting stare fixed her to the spot.
“You wrote,” he whispered. He stepped forward, but then held still again.
“Yes. Of course, I did.” Gradually, as her pulse slowed, she pieced together what he’d accused her of. “And…andyouwrote?”
Hugh licked his lips, then cocked his head and took another few steps in her direction, his gaze hinged on her. No longer furious, but sharp and beseeching. “I did. Countless letters. All of them, unanswered.”
