The Regency Season: Hidden Desires: Courted by the Captain / Protected by the Major

When he discovered who had murdered his cousin in cold blood he would thrash him to within an inch of his life.

Chapter Four (#u4750029e-c2f4-5d7c-a63d-31afb8d983c8)

‘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.

* * *

Jenny closed the bedroom door. It had been a difficult evening and at times she’d felt close to giving way to a fit of weeping. However, she’d sensed that Lucy was on the verge of hysteria so she’d controlled her own nerves and done all she could to ease her friend’s terrible grief. And then Lady Dawlish, a kind but sensitive lady who seemed almost as overset by the tragedy as her daughter.

However, Mr Adam Miller’s kind words and the look in his eyes had lifted Jenny’s spirits. She was astonished at the change in his character, for at the ball in London he’d seemed proud and arrogant—but in times of stress and tragedy one discovered the truth about the people around one. She had gone from feeling wary when he offered to take her up in his phaeton, to being amused and now her feelings were far warmer than was sensible for a man she hardly knew.

Jenny had realised shortly after she was taken up in Mr Miller’s phaeton that he thought her in the position of an unpaid companion—perhaps some kind of poor relation. Her uncle’s antiquated carriage, the plainness of her gown, which her aunt had purchased in a spirit of generosity, but according to her own notions of economy, and something Jenny had said had made him think her if not penniless, then close to it.

Mr Miller—or Adam, as he’d invited her to call him—had taken pity on her because of her situation. What would he think if he knew that her father had left her comfortably situated? He might despise her, think her a liar or that she had deliberately deceived him. Yet there was no need for him to know. None of her friends knew the truth. Most must have assumed that her father had lost much of his money—why else would her uncle have disposed of his house, horses and carriages? Jenny thought it nonsensical for had she still been able she might have lived in her own home and paid a companion. Yet she was content to live with her friends. She liked pretty clothes and trinkets, but would not have bought an extensive wardrobe even had she been consulted. However, her aunt’s taste for very severe ensembles was not precisely what Jenny liked and, as soon as she received the allowance Mr Nodgrass had agreed to, she would indulge herself with some prettier gowns. For the moment grey or dark colours would be more suitable, because Lucy and her family would undoubtedly wear mourning for a time.

Taking the pins from her hair, Jenny let it fall on her shoulders. Dark and springy with red tones, it was apt to tangle and she had to attack it with her brush to make it settle into acceptable waves and curls. Her eyes were a soft grey, her mouth inclined to curve at the corners most of the time and her nose short with a sprinkling of freckles. She knew that she was considered attractive, though she thought her nose too short for beauty. Had Papa and Mama lived she would have been having her Season this year—or perhaps she might already have been married. Her father’s tragic death had led to her living in seclusion for months at her uncle’s house. The prospect of Lucy’s wedding had been enticing for she was due some gaiety and a relief from mourning, but that was no longer to be.

Her heart was too tender to feel resentment. For the moment all that mattered was to be of comfort to Lucy and her family. However, she could not help thinking that Adam Miller was one of the most attractive men she’d ever met. When he’d kissed her hand a tingle had gone down her spine and she’d been aware of an urgent desire to be taken into his arms and be kissed on the lips—and that thought was too disgraceful!

How could she think of such a thing at a time like this? Was she shameless?

Her thoughts were nonsensical. Besides, he had made his feelings about heiresses plain in London. Adam might need to marry one, but he did not like them. If he discovered that she was not the poor companion he thought her, he would probably imagine she’d lied on purpose to entrap him.

Shaking her head, Jenny hid her smile of amusement as the door opened and Lucy entered. She looked pale, but her tears had dried and when Jenny held out her hands she took them.

‘I have left him with his family,’ she said. A little sob escaped her. ‘Do you think he knows that I sat with him, told him I loved him? There is so much I wished to say and now it is too late.’

‘I am sure he knew you loved him...’

Lucy shook her head and turned away to unpin her hair. She slipped off her dress, but did not remove her petticoats. ‘I feel so guilty,’ she said. ‘Oh, Jenny. If only I could bring him back...if I could explain...’

‘Explain what, dearest?’

‘Nothing. I cannot speak of it now,’ Lucy said and dashed away her tears. ‘I must try to sleep if I can.’

‘We shall be quiet, but I am here if you want to talk.’

‘I need to talk, but I cannot yet,’ Lucy said, an oddly defensive expression in her eyes. ‘Perhaps in a few days—but you must not condemn me when I tell you and you must promise not to leave me. I do not think I could bear Mama’s smothering if you were not here.’

Jenny pulled back the sheets for her. ‘Come to bed, Lucy.’

Lucy smiled gratefully. ‘I think that perhaps I could sleep now.’

‘Yes, we shall both sleep if we can.’