Page 29 of Honor Unbound

A lightness filled his chest. Brett wasn’t a proud man, but he had enough experience with the opposite sex to know when a woman was attracted to him. It was the only thing that explained her actions. Miss Marie Murphy was interested in him but desperately didn’t want to be.

An idea struck him, one he was surprised hadn’t occurred to him before. Marie was intelligent, lively, and loyal, which had always appealed to him. The good Lord knew she had a figure that could make grown men weep. She obviously had a strong sense of justice if she spent her time trying to track down a killer. All in all, she couldn’t be more perfect for him.

Brett hadn’t come to London with the idea of finding a wife, but now that he’d found Marie, the idea made complete sense.

And with the same instinctual decision-making he’d relied upon all his life, the choice was made. He would wed Marie Murphy.

“What are you grinning at?” his future bride asked, suspicion deepening her voice.

“Nothing.” His smile widened. “I understand there are some lovely paths in Hyde Park. Perhaps one of these afternoons you’d be kind enough to show them to me?”

Marie recoiled. His feelings would have been hurt if he hadn’t already decided that she liked him and this was just one of her quirks. “Walk in the park? Why would we do that?”

He chuckled. “If you don’t know, I can’t wait to show you.” Motion caught his attention. He held up his hand before she could respond. “Look. Someone’s coming out.”

They both leaned forward, their heads nearly touching as they peered out the carriage window. A woman hurried down the front steps and into the coach waiting in front of the house.

“That’s ’er,” Marie whispered. “Mrs. Trent. Leaving ’er daughter to go be with another man.” She tutted.

Brett didn’t comment on her droppedh’s. He found her accent charming, and if she never wanted to say anotherhin her life, he would be fine with that. “We don’t have proof she’s going to a lover, only gossip.” He knocked on the ceiling of the carriage. “Let’s see where she heads.”

Ernest knew to follow the carriage, and they started after her coach at a sedate pace. They turned onto a busy street, the sounds of horses’ hooves and pedestrians’ chatter filling the air. It took them twenty minutes to reach their destination on Chiswell Street. It was a well-maintained neighborhood, lacking in pretension and pomp.

Mrs. Trent wore a veil over her face when she exited her carriage. She hurried up the steps to a three-story townhouse. The door opened before she could knock.

“Well, that confirms that.” Marie sniffed. “That embrace could only mean one thing.”

Brett had to agree. The man had been in shadow, but his clinch on the doorstep with the recent widow had been in full view. “Wait here.” He hopped out of the carriage and strode to the house next to the one Mrs. Trent had entered. He found the servants’ entrance and knocked on the door.

An irritated looking man peered up at him, holding a spindly candle. “What do you want?”

“I have a delivery for…” he pulled his notepad from his coat pocket and pretended to read from it “…146 Chiswell.”

The man blew out a breath. “This is 144. It’s that house you want.” He jerked his head next door.

Brett ran his hand up the back of his head. “I apologize for bothering you. Just to make sure I don’t get it wrong again, your neighbor’s name is…?”

“Gray. Driscoll Gray. Go bother him.” And the door was smartly shut in his face.

Brett rocked back on his heels. Well, that was an interesting development. He could only imagine Lady Mary’s reaction to the news that two of their top suspects were having a liaison with each other. Gray not only had a financial motive for wanting Trent dead, but he had a romantic one, as well.

Brett trotted back to the carriage. He couldn’t help feeling sorry for Trent. His wife was sleeping with the man he blamed for damaging his business.

When he told Marie what he’d learned, she shook her head. “Don’t be feeling sorry for him. He wasn’t faithful, neither.” She leaned back and tapped her plump bottom lip with her thumb.“Should we go home and tell Lady Mary or wait here to see if Mrs. Trent goes anywhere else?”

“She’s most likely in for the night. It could be hours.” Brett pursed his lips.

“We might miss something if we leave.”

“There’s always that chance.” It was a warm night. It wouldn’t be unpleasant being ensconced in a close carriage with Marie for hours on end, but it would be foolish.

Marie opened her reticule and pulled out a deck of cards. The cards were well-loved, their edges brown and ragged. She shuffled them briefly, then held the deck up to him. “Pick one. If you get high card, we leave. If I get high card, we stay.”

It seemed a silly way to make a decision, especially as he’d already decided his course, but he decided to indulge her. He cut the deck and peeled off a card. “A nine.”

She pulled out her own card. “Eight. We leave.”

Brett nodded, relieved the cards had worked in his favor. He leaned out the window and spoke to Ernest. When he settled back in, his knee pressed against Marie’s. “But I think there’s somewhere else we should go before heading home. I want to see where Trent was stabbed.”