most of the evening with Catherine and Melanie. Not that she’d call either of them dowdy. They were her friends. They had spent most events together since their come-outs. Then again, she supposed they weren’t the most fashionable ladies of the ton .
She hadn’t intended to embarrass him.
He suddenly pulled her into his arms. “You’re my wife. You belong at my side, not cowering in a corner.” She blinked back a tear as he kissed her neck. “Do you think your father would be where he is today if your mother hid herself away?”
She’d be better next time. “Perhaps I can speak to Catherine and Melanie at the park or somewhere private?” she asked.
Richard nodded, his eyes pitying. “Perhaps. I don’t mean to be harsh. I want you to be a credit to me.”
The door opened, scattering the memory. The cheerful light cast by the candles should have softened him, but Lord Grey somehow managed to look more shadowed and imposing than he had in the street. Rain clung to strands of his hair, glittering and cold. “Why are you in my house?”
“I have been interfering with your investigation.” As soon as she spoke the words, a weight dislodged from her chest.
Lord Grey ran his hands partway through his dark strands of hair, leaving them clamped on either side of his head. “I must warn you to think carefully about what you are going to say. My position as justice of the peace may force me to act.”
He’d been chomping at the bit earlier in the day. Why the hesitation now? She met his eye and he glanced quickly away. She knew that reaction.
He knew about Richard. That was the only possible reason. Mrs. Haws must have told him. How much did he know?
She felt her cheeks heat with shame and wanted to pull the blanket up until it covered her head. Confound it all, Richard had been the evil one. Why must she be the one to carry his guilt? And why was so much of her loathing directed at herself?
Her hands tightened on the blanket. She didn’t like that he was looking at her differently than he had an hour before. She didn’t like the pity or the caution, as if she might break. She might not be strong yet, but she definitely was no longer fragile.
She hated that he couldn’t see the strength that she’d worked so hard to build. For each step forward, she got yanked back three.
She intended to make up those lost steps no matter what. “I didn’t kill him.” She took a deep breath, loosening the grip she had on the blanket so blood could return to her fingers. “My husband. I wasn’t the one who hired those two men.”
“Then why interfere?” he asked, prowling closer. A wet lock of hair flopped down across his forehead and her fingers itched to brush it away.
She could feel his gaze straight through the blanket to her wet, clinging gown beneath. Where would his eyes land if she wasn’t wearing the blanket? On her hips? On her breasts? Nowhere at all? “I thought I knew who was behind the murder.”
“Who?” He stopped inches from her, so close she had to crane her neck to see his face clearly.
She wasn’t about to plant any ideas he didn’t already have. “It wasn’t who I thought. That’s why I’m telling you of my actions now.”
“You have no proof of your innocence other than your word.”
“That is correct. But I also give my word I will no longer be interfering. And I’ll instruct the others to cooperate. In truth this time.”
He studied her until she was sure he’d had time to count every freckle on her nose—
Her rice powder! It would have washed off in the rain. He really could see every freckle—well, let him suffer then. In fact, she resolved to never hide them again. Perhaps she’d even go out in the sun without her bonnet and get a dozen more!
Take that, Richard .
Lord Grey rested a finger against his chin. “I cannot decide if you’re devious enough to claim that to hide further interference.”
She supposed she deserved that, yet it still stung. “You
She hadn’t intended to embarrass him.
He suddenly pulled her into his arms. “You’re my wife. You belong at my side, not cowering in a corner.” She blinked back a tear as he kissed her neck. “Do you think your father would be where he is today if your mother hid herself away?”
She’d be better next time. “Perhaps I can speak to Catherine and Melanie at the park or somewhere private?” she asked.
Richard nodded, his eyes pitying. “Perhaps. I don’t mean to be harsh. I want you to be a credit to me.”
The door opened, scattering the memory. The cheerful light cast by the candles should have softened him, but Lord Grey somehow managed to look more shadowed and imposing than he had in the street. Rain clung to strands of his hair, glittering and cold. “Why are you in my house?”
“I have been interfering with your investigation.” As soon as she spoke the words, a weight dislodged from her chest.
Lord Grey ran his hands partway through his dark strands of hair, leaving them clamped on either side of his head. “I must warn you to think carefully about what you are going to say. My position as justice of the peace may force me to act.”
He’d been chomping at the bit earlier in the day. Why the hesitation now? She met his eye and he glanced quickly away. She knew that reaction.
He knew about Richard. That was the only possible reason. Mrs. Haws must have told him. How much did he know?
She felt her cheeks heat with shame and wanted to pull the blanket up until it covered her head. Confound it all, Richard had been the evil one. Why must she be the one to carry his guilt? And why was so much of her loathing directed at herself?
Her hands tightened on the blanket. She didn’t like that he was looking at her differently than he had an hour before. She didn’t like the pity or the caution, as if she might break. She might not be strong yet, but she definitely was no longer fragile.
She hated that he couldn’t see the strength that she’d worked so hard to build. For each step forward, she got yanked back three.
She intended to make up those lost steps no matter what. “I didn’t kill him.” She took a deep breath, loosening the grip she had on the blanket so blood could return to her fingers. “My husband. I wasn’t the one who hired those two men.”
“Then why interfere?” he asked, prowling closer. A wet lock of hair flopped down across his forehead and her fingers itched to brush it away.
She could feel his gaze straight through the blanket to her wet, clinging gown beneath. Where would his eyes land if she wasn’t wearing the blanket? On her hips? On her breasts? Nowhere at all? “I thought I knew who was behind the murder.”
“Who?” He stopped inches from her, so close she had to crane her neck to see his face clearly.
She wasn’t about to plant any ideas he didn’t already have. “It wasn’t who I thought. That’s why I’m telling you of my actions now.”
“You have no proof of your innocence other than your word.”
“That is correct. But I also give my word I will no longer be interfering. And I’ll instruct the others to cooperate. In truth this time.”
He studied her until she was sure he’d had time to count every freckle on her nose—
Her rice powder! It would have washed off in the rain. He really could see every freckle—well, let him suffer then. In fact, she resolved to never hide them again. Perhaps she’d even go out in the sun without her bonnet and get a dozen more!
Take that, Richard .
Lord Grey rested a finger against his chin. “I cannot decide if you’re devious enough to claim that to hide further interference.”
She supposed she deserved that, yet it still stung. “You
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