Page 16 of Nature of the Crime
Hugh scrubbed his stubbled jaw. It had been a long day and a proper shave had been impossible before he’d set out for Dover.
“I didn’t see Philip,” she said. Hugh finished tucking in his shirt and turned to her. At her stricken look, guilt flared. “I swear it.”
He sighed. “I know.” It had been one of his inane theories as to why she had not written. Knowing he was being an arse, Hugh went back to her. He sat on the bed and cradled her cheek in his palm. “I was a fool for asking last summer.”
When she’d first announced her intention to travel the Continent, to his shame, he’d wondered if she would search forhim. Philip had vowed to disappear, to never return or interfere with the life she chose to move on with. But what if Audrey was not satisfied with that? When he’d asked if she would see Philip, her expression of insult and disappointment had seared him.
“Hugh…” Without having to say another word, he knew she was frightened. It wasn’t something she would readily admit to. “Philip and Freddie Walker planned to take new names. What if…” She gathered a breath and clenched a fistful of the blanket as she rushed out the rest of her theory. “What if this Vaillancourt fellow isn’t a stranger at all. What if it’s Philip? Or Freddie?”
The diabolical thought had not yet crossed his mind. A jolt of apprehension surprised him. Neither he nor Audrey nor Fournier had yet to see the body. Lord Burton surely would not have known Philip by sight. If he or Frederick Walker had taken Bertrand Vaillancourt as a new name, then itwaspossible. But he didn’t think so. The name still tugged at a memory. He’d known a man called Vaillancourt once, long ago, but there was nothing to indicate it was the same person.
Still, like Audrey’s own inexplicable gift, he had a talent for knowing which gut reactions to pay attention to. This was one of them.
“The chances are slim,” he said. “But we will figure this out.” He only wanted to reassure her, even though neither of them would have any answers tonight. They’d just have to start tomorrow.
He combed his fingers through her hair, bringing the silky strands over her shoulders. She looked delectable sitting there, clutching the counterpane to her clavicle. He would have to leave soon, even if it was the opposite of what he wanted. Months of contained longing and aggravation still boiled inside him.
“I will need something of Vaillancourt’s. One of his possessions,” Audrey said. Her request should have startled him, but it didn’t. He knew why she needed them.
“You want to see what happened.” The objects, whatever they were, might be able to tell her more about how Vaillancourt died, and more importantly, who killed him. “I’ll get them.”
“I’m sorry,” she whispered.
“What are you apologizing for?”
“For wrapping you up in this trouble.”
He leaned forward and brushed his lips to hers. “I choose to be wrapped up in anything that involves you. Is that understood?”
Some of the tension dissolved from her shoulders, and she dropped one hand from the blanket at her chest to draw him closer for another, more ardent kiss. He groaned a minute later as he pulled back.
“I cannot stay,” he said. Rising from the bed, he looked forward to the day he would not have to leave. In just a few short months, he could make her his wife.
But only if they escaped this mess. And if Philip stayed where he was—in the past.
Chapter
Seven
Ahollow, dreamlike state clung to Audrey as she entered St. James’s Church. It had set in the evening she was detained on theBritannia, the turn of events so stunning that they had nearly seemed amusing to her. Surely, at any moment, someone would come to their senses and realize that she could not possibly have killed anyone. She had been in the ladies’ cabin the entire trip, after all, tending to Cassie and her sour stomach. Any of the other women with them could verify this.
But Lord Burton’s seriousness, his skepticism, and cold attitude toward her had vanquished her flippant manner. He meant to prove her a murderer.
With Hugh’s arrival, and with the revelation that he had not stopped loving her, that dreamlike state had returned and become something blissful. Their reunion had fed her hope, and for a short while, she’d been happy to forget the rest of the world.
However now, as she and Cassie walked arm-in-arm through the nave of the church, solemnly following the red-coated guards that Lord Burton had posted at the inn, the dreamlike haze turned dark and foreboding again. She had tried to convince Cassie to stay at the inn while she, Michael, and Hugh viewed thebody, but after nearly two days of being cooped up inside, Cassie had insisted on coming with them.
“I will suffer a fit of the vapors if I must stay inside these walls a moment longer, I assure you,” she’d told them at breakfast.
Audrey had taken the chair across from Hugh, whose brief glance and coy grin had caused her legs to turn to jelly, and her hands to fumble with the napkin on her lap. Though he sat there, sipping his coffee, properly dressed and self-possessed as usual, she could not stop herself from picturing him as he’d been the night before, unclothed and undone in her arms. The satisfying recollection had nearly caused her to miss Cassie and Michael’s tense exchange.
“This is not a pleasant seaside promenade,” Michael had said, only to receive a contemptuous glare from his younger sister.
“Stop handling me with kid gloves, brother. If Audrey can withstand the sight of a dead body, I very well can too.”
Now, as they reached an arched door behind the pulpit, Cassie’s gait slowed. Audrey wasn’t certain it was solely from hesitation over viewing a dead man’s body. Lord Burton stood by the open door, waiting for them. His scornful expression sent a jolt of discomfort through her, and likely through Cassie too.
“As I said last evening, this is a highly unusual request.” The baron’s voice echoed throughout the empty church. “I am not at all certain what can be gained from allowing the dowager duchess to view the victim’s body, and now it appears she must bring her companion?”
