Page 62 of A Virgin for the Beastly Duke

“Because of Bridget,” Harry guessed, and Drew nodded.

“He might be acting on his own, and he might be the perpetrator’s accomplice. Regardless. He is most certainly not innocent.”

Harry had not wanted to worry Bridget but he realized he had to tell her everything he had learned from Drew. She was safer if she had more knowledge on the matter.

“I am yet to find the rider who followed you, but I copied the sketch you made and sent it to a few men who owe me a favor and are adept at finding people.”

“I supposesomeprogress has been made,” Harry said.

“Indeed. It matters not how long it takes, for I am certain we will find the truth.”

Drew’s skills were impressive, and when he stood to leave after their business was concluded, Harry said, “I am very grateful to you, Drew.”

He grinned. “I like you better when you are positively sentimental.”

Harry laughed. “Go.”

“Aye, Your Grace.” Drew made an exaggerated bow.

Harry went to the cellar after Drew’s departure. The new barrels all still appeared to be intact. He walked around for a while, taking time to inspect even the wooden base on which the barrels rested. Once he was satisfied, he made his way back to the castle, taking a short detour to the gardens.

He had something to collect before the groundskeeper began work. His coat was on the bench, and Bridget’s robe and the patch he had worn the night before were still laying on the ground. Cato caught sight of a butterfly and began to chase it, and Harry allowed him to go. Grinning, he picked up their clothes and walked into the castle through the same door he had carried Bridget, reliving their memories. His steps quickened as desire hardened his body, and he hoped Bridget was awake.

His heart flipped with joy when he found her sitting on a divan by the window, and the loveliest smile appeared on her face when their eyes met.

“We left these in the garden.” He raised the clothes in his hand before draping them over a chair.

She smiled shyly. “I did wonder where they were.” As she set her feet down on the floor, he realized she was wearing his blue velvet robe, without a sash and open at the front.

He sat down beside her, intending to take her in his arms, but she crawled onto his lap as soon as he was seated and wrapped her arms around his neck.

“I have been waiting for you,” she murmured sweetly.

Harry laughed. “Do you have something for me?”

“This.” She kissed him.

He slipped his hand beneath her robe and cupped her breast, wanting nothing more than to carry her to their bed. But he must tell her about his discussion with Drew. Gently, he withdrew his hand and pulled the lapels of her robe to cover her distracting form.

Bridget moaned in protest when his lips left hers. He smiled. “Soon, my love. I have something to tell you now.”

Her brows knit ever so slightly. “What is it?”

“I went to the brewery this morning and Drew found me there with some news about his recent discoveries. The first person I suspected of poisoning you was the Viscount of Lore, especially after the events at the Dilworth soirée.” He studied her face for any hint of dismay and found none. She was remarkably calm.

“I suspected him, as well. He is very deceitful,” she said. “Were you able to confirm?”

Harry shook his head. “Not yet, although he purchased a property in this county shortly after our wedding, which makes me believe he followed you here.”

“I should have known he would do something like this.” Her voice was low but it carried a great measure of loathing.

“Once we know more, we will take him to the law to answer for his crimes. I promise you.” His hand moved up her back to rub the nook of her neck. She closed her eyes and sighed. “Drew also discovered that Carlton returned but he was murdered. The murderer might be the same person who broke my barrels and contaminated the ale, and it is likely someone not currently in the picture.”

“There are at least two people against us.”

“Yes, at least,” he agreed. “The morning I went to Ipswich, I noticed a man stopping at the same inn I stopped to water my horse, then I saw him again when I met the peddler that sold me that tea, and one last time at a fork in the road. It was strange but at the time I thought we merely shared a route. I did not think about him again until you were poisoned. If he is involved, then he might have followed me, seen when I purchased the tea and decided it would make the perfect poison.”

Her breathing grew slightly shaky. “There are so many possibilities.”

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