Page 8

When she exited the dressing room, she didn’t find Hugh back in bed. Instead, he’d gathered his clothing, along with the ancient-looking ring from the bedside table.

“You aren’t going to your own room, surely,” Audrey said in disbelief. He never slept there, not even when they bickered.

“I’m going to spend some time in the study. I must arrange for the inquest, and that means extending letters of invitation to jury members. I’ll also be leaving for Thornton’s first thing,” he explained.

Audrey gaped at him. “I cannot believe you are so angry with me that you won’t come back to bed.”

“I am not angry, my love. But I won’t be able to fall back to sleep, and I don’t want to keep you awake with my restlessness.”

“That sounds very much like an excuse,” she said, getting back into bed and sitting up against the headboard.

“It is not an excuse,” he growled.

Several moments passed, a stubborn silence expanding between them.

“You don’t even want to know what I saw?” she asked.

“No, I do not. I would like for you to forget it and allow me to handle the inquiry on my own.”

Audrey’s lips parted in disbelief at his mulish belligerence.

“Very well. Best of luck to you.” She pulled the blanket up, slid down onto her side, and waited for him to leave. Which he did, promptly.

Idiot man!

Audrey tucked her hands deeper into the ermine muff as she approached the front door of Grant Thornton’s home on St. James’s Square. It was barely nine o’clock, a rude hour to pay a call in any normal circumstance. However, as it was likely that her husband had already dragged the doctor from his bed to look at the body of the murdered woman, Audrey would not fret about the time.

She hadn’t slept at all after Hugh left for his study. It would have been best to go to him and smooth things over after their quarrel, but she’d been too upset, and admittedly too stubborn. She’d expected him to come to her room before leaving for Grant’s home. Whether Hugh complained or not, she would tell him about the connection between her two visions from the night before. But when Dorothy had come in at half seven, she’d said his lordship had already left. Audrey, stunned and furious all over again, had told her maid to find her something to wear. She, too, would be going out.

The weather last night had cleared, leaving feeble sunlight in a milky sky. Slushy snow coated the pavements and roads, and Carrigan had taken the short distance to St. James’s Square cautiously. Several times on the slow drive, Audrey wondered if she ought to have simply walked. It was, as she’d been informed by her housekeeper and former lady’s maid, Greer, what Hugh had done. However, her protective driver would have advised against it, and if she’d ignored his objection, he would have just followed her on foot.

As they finally turned into the small, half-moon drive in front of Grant’s home, she’d exhaled to try to release some of her restlessness and irritation.

One of Grant’s footmen answered the door at her knock, and Goodwin, his butler, greeted her as she entered the front hall.

“I apologize for the early hour, Goodwin,” Audrey said, “but are Lord Thornton and Lord Neatham in?”

Goodwin, his hands clasped at his back, tucked his chin in a dignified nod. “A carriage has left to fetch Lord Thornton, my lady. The viscount is here, waiting.”

Evidently having heard her voice, Hugh emerged from the office at the back of the entrance hall that Grant kept for his patients. She started toward him, ignoring the censure widening her husband’s dark brown eyes.

“Should I bring tea, my lady?” Goodwin asked.

“No, thank you, I won’t be staying long,” she answered, then turned into the office. Hugh came in behind her and closed the door.

“Why the devil are you here, Audrey?” he grumbled in the way he did whenever he was trying to keep his temper in check.

“I need to tell you what I saw last night and this morning,” she replied. “Stop being obstinate and listen, because I have a lead in the case.”

Chapter

Four

It had taken less than a second to regret his outburst that morning, after Audrey had held the bronze ring and received a vision. Hugh didn’t know why he’d accused her of going through his things, seeking something to give her a glimpse into the murder case, but the moment he’d said it, he’d known he was being a horse’s arse.

And yet, here he stood several hours later in Thornton’s office, unable to apologize for his words. He was upset. He knew Audrey had not gone looking for an object to hold; it had been an accident. But he hadn’t wanted her exposed to any of it, and his failure to protect her from what she must have seen in her vision lodged like a rash of burrs under his skin. He’d been feeling the prick of them more often as of late, as the baby grew within her…bringing her closer to the time when she would give birth.

Hugh was ecstatic to meet their child, but there was the birth itself for Audrey to come through safely. He knew how dangerous childbirth could be. In the beginning, tucking those thoughts away had been simpler. Avoiding them now was becoming more difficult, and here, in Grant Thornton’s home, it was all but impossible. Thornton had lost his wife and baby during childbirth several years ago, and it had destroyed him.