Chapter Seventeen
Adelaide’s ears rang as she watched the room erupt around her in what felt like half-time. Graham was yelling. Captain Black was too, pointing at him. James and Emma moved forward in unison, inserting themselves into the fray. And all the while she could hear her aunt’s voice faintly screeching, “He’s a murderer, Adelaide! You cannot put yourself in league with a murderer!”
She flinched as those words pierced her very soul. She knew perfectly well that Graham had not killed Sir Archibald. The night of their fight he’d been with her, last night as well. And even if he hadn’t, she knew his heart. He was not the kind of man who would kill, even if he had lost control in the face of Sir Archibald’s abuse of her.
But the captain was smug and she could see that he was taking great pleasure in accusing Graham. If he chose to pursue this matter, as he was threatening, there was the chance that Graham, this beautiful, wonderful man—this man she loved, for she did love him—would be transported. Or hanged.
“Just tell me that you have an alibi better than servants you pay and I will retract my statement,” Captain Black said.
Adelaide swallowed hard and stepped forward. Her hands were shaking as she said, “Stop.”
No one heard her. The room continued in its cacophony. She put her hands on her hips and shouted it this time. “Everyone please stop!”
The voices slowed and suddenly five pairs of eyes turned on her. She only looked back at Graham. She looked into those blue depths and her heart swelled with the feelings she had only just admitted to herself and was not brave enough to say to him.
But she would protect him. By God, she would do that.
“The Duke of Northfield could not have killed Sir Archibald,” she said softly.
Captain Black tilted his head. “And who are you, miss?”
She cleared her throat. “My name is Lady Adelaide, I am the daughter of the late Earl of Longford.”
The captain’s face twitched, as if he were just as disgusted by her as he was by the others in the room with titles. “And how do you know that Northfield couldn’t have killed Sir Archibald?”
She looked at Graham again and his eyes went wide, like he could read her intentions, her heart. She supposed he could, since he owned it. He had since the moment he intruded upon her dressing room weeks ago.
She just hadn’t been brave enough to face it until this moment where he was being threatened.
“Adelaide,” he whispered, his voice breaking. “You mustn’t.”
She ignored him. “The Duke of Northfield could not have killed Sir Archibald because he has spent the last two nights with…with me.”
Her cheeks flamed as Emma gasped, as James flushed, as Graham dipped his head. As the captain stared at her. She wanted to turn away from their judgments and censure, but she didn’t. She couldn’t. She had to continue to make sure Graham was fully protected.
“Two nights ago I snuck from my aunt’s house to be with him.” She swallowed in the hopes her voice would stop shaking. “And last night he came to me here after everyone went to bed. I assure you, Captain Black, that if I am asked to testify to that fact, I will. And I expect I will be believed, given what a mark it will put on my reputation to admit what I’ve done.”
The room was stone silent for one breath, two. And then her aunt let out a scream of rage and agony, and lunged at Adelaide with both her hands raised in attack.
Graham jumped in front of Adelaide as James grabbed for Lady Opal, holding her back by both arms as she spat and screeched unintelligible words of anger.
“Get her out!” Graham bellowed. “Do something worthwhile, man, and help him!”
He said the second to Captain Black, who shook off what appeared to be shock and then stepped forward to help James with the struggling Lady Opal. They dragged her to the foyer and Emma rushed forward to thrust the door shut behind them. She leaned against it, pale as she stared at Graham and Adelaide.
“Are you all right?” she asked.
Adelaide rushed around Graham and wrapped her arms around Emma. “I’m so sorry,” he heard her sobbing into Emma’s shoulder. “I’m so sorry for the trouble I’ve brought to your house.”
Emma shot Graham a pointed look and guided Adelaide to the settee where they sat together. “Dearest, you are no trouble, this is not your fault. But that woman is dangerous. After this, after what I saw yesterday—”
Graham came to the other side of Adelaide on the settee. “What happened yesterday?”
Adelaide shook her head. “Nothing. My aunt is…she is not well. It’s clear.”
Emma let out a long breath, and all three turned as James reentered the room. His face was drawn and pale, and he moved to Emma to embrace her.
“Are you harmed?” he asked, his gaze only for her as he settled a hand on her swollen belly.
“No,” Emma reassured him before she leaned up for a brief kiss. “We are fine. What in the world did you do with Opal? And with that horrid man?”
He sighed as he sank into a chair, pulling Emma to sit on his knee as he smoothed his fingers over her belly over and over. “Opal calmed the moment we were out the door. She even apologized for her outburst, but dear God, Adelaide, why didn’t you tell us how terrible things had become?”
Adelaide let out a shaking sigh that tore through Graham’s heart. He took her hand silently and held it with both of his. She glanced at him once, then said, “She normally isn’t so wild. But my…virtue, or lack thereof, is an issue for her.”
Emma pursed her lips. “Is it true then? That you and Graham have engaged in an affair?”
Graham inched closer to Adelaide, once again driven to protect her in some way. From harm, from censure, from anything that could hurt her.
“Yes,” he admitted softly.
Adelaide turned toward him, and he saw the worry in her eyes. “Graham, if Sir Archibald is dead, murdered near the theatre, we must—”
He held up a hand. “We must do nothing, I’ll go and investigate.”
She lifted both eyebrows. “That will not work and you know it. I’m coming with you. I’m not asking.”
Graham almost smiled despite the terrible circumstances they had all just endured. By God, but this woman tested him. And he found he liked that. He needed it. He ached for it.
More than that, he needed the protection she had offered. Adelaide had thrown herself in front of him to keep him from being arrested for a murder he hadn’t committed. She had done it with what was an obvious knowledge of what her confession could do to her future and her reputation.
And she hadn’t cared.
No one had protected him like that since the mother who had died for him. His heart swelled at that thought. At the woman before him.
“Do either of you wish to explain what you’re talking about?” Emma asked softly.
Adelaide jumped as if she had forgotten about the presence of James and Emma. She faced them with a blush. “I know I keep saying this, but I will explain everything to you, Emma. I promise you I will. Right now, though, I must go with Graham. We have to find out the truth about what happened to Sir Archibald.”
Emma opened her mouth as if to argue, but James settled a gentle hand on her knee. “We have very little space to talk about propriety, don’t we? Graham will keep Adelaide safe wherever they must go.”
Emma blushed as she glanced down at her husband. Then she threw up her hands. “Since I have no idea what is actually going on right now, I feel I have no space to argue. If you must go with Graham, I certainly won’t stop you. But I do hope you’ll let me in on all these secrets.”
Adelaide and Graham rose, as did James and Emma. Adelaide moved to the duchess for a brief embrace. “I will,” she promised softly. “And your husband should take you up to bed in the meantime. There has been far too much excitement for a pregnant lady. I want you and that child to be safe.”
“Oh, posh,” Emma began. “I don’t need to—”
“She’s going to bed the moment you two leave,” James interrupted with a playfully stern look for Emma. Adelaide smiled as she and Emma led the way to the foyer. But as soon as they were out of earshot, James leaned into Graham. “Do you need help? I can come. I can wrangle up three or four of the others to assist, as well.”
Graham smiled at James, the best friend he had ever had. The one he’d almost lost. He couldn’t help but think of the one he had. And wish that Simon were here, too, to offer support. Kindness.
“We’ll be fine,” he replied. “I don’t think we’ll be in danger where we’re going.”
“And what of Adelaide?” James asked softly. “She made a great sacrifice for you today.”
Graham felt the breath go out of him with that statement. The truth of it curled through him once more. “I know,” he said as they entered the foyer. “Don’t think I don’t know. And as soon as this other matter is attended to, I promise you I’m going to deal with that.”
His carriage was brought around, and he sighed as he offered Adelaide an arm and guided her to the rig. He would have to attend to the things she had said, the way she had protected him to her own detriment. But for now all he could think of was to keep her safe.
He gave a direction to his driver and then climbed in across from her. He shot James a look out the window, and then they were moving and he returned all his focus to Adelaide.
“She has hit you before,” he said, not asking.
Adelaide stiffened. “Yes,” she admitted softly.
He turned his face as anger flooded him at that thought. “How often?”
She shifted in her seat, her gaze refusing to turn on him. Her cheeks flaming, as if she were embarrassed when she had nothing to be ashamed about. Her guardian was another story.
“She slapped me once, when she found out I’d given myself to a man,” she said. “As I said in the house, my virtue has always been an obsession to her. And…” She hesitated, and finally her blue gaze moved toward him. “She put her hands around my throat yesterday morning because she believes I’ve been lying to her, which of course I have.”
Graham stared. “She put her hands around your throat?” he repeated, shocked and horrified.
She nodded. “Emma interrupted, and that’s why I came to their home yesterday.”
“You can’t go back to that woman, Adelaide,” Graham said through clenched teeth.
She shut her eyes briefly. “Legally she is my guardian, Graham. And in the fourteen years I’ve lived with her, those are the only two times when she’s lashed out at me.”
“It escalates,” he said through clenched teeth. “A slap. A punch. A choke. A burn. And then he’s murdering your mother in the east parlor.”
Adelaide’s eyes filled with tears and she slid across the carriage to him, touching his cheek and smoothing her thumb across his jawline. “I’m so sorry, Graham. And I know you want to protect me. But I promise you that my situation is not like your own.”
He frowned, for he wasn’t as certain about that fact as she was. “Adelaide,” he began.
She shook her head. “Right now you and I must focus on the situation with Sir Archibald.”
“I didn’t kill him,” Graham said.
She drew back, shock flooding her features. “Of course you didn’t,” she gasped. “I never believed you did. Even if we hadn’t been together the last two nights, I wouldn’t have believed it.”
“Even after my losing control?” he pressed.
She leaned up and brushed her lips to his. “I know you.”
It was a simple statement, but it hit Graham straight in the gut. She knew him. Yes, she did. Despite the short time of their acquaintance, she had wound her way inside of him, she had inspired him to whisper secrets he’d vowed never to tell. She had become a part of him.
And he found he didn’t want to lose that part, no matter how terrifying a thought that was.
He pushed it aside and sighed. “Either way, I think we both believe his murder is associated with the theatre.”
“If his body was found so close by, I cannot imagine it is a coincidence. He had plenty of enemies there.”
“Whoever killed that man should be given a medal, not transported,” Graham said, sliding an arm around her and tucking her into his side.
She nodded. “Yes, I tend to agree. But the world isn’t always fair.”
“No,” he agreed softly. “It isn’t.”
The carriage turned a few times as they sat there quietly together, and then it began to slow. He felt Adelaide shift against him, watched her sit up straight, and when he looked at her face, he was shocked to see Lydia there. There was a hardness to her expression, a wariness. He’d never recognized that before when he thought they were two different women. But Lydia was…jaded.
And he found he wanted the real Adelaide back. As much as he’d given to Lydia, as much as he’d needed her in the beginning, now it was different. Lydia represented all the pain that Adelaide sought to escape. Her presence here now only broke his heart.
When the footman opened the carriage door, he climbed down first and helped her do the same. As the vehicle pulled away so it would no longer block the street, Adelaide took a long breath.
“I’m Lydia—don’t forget,” she said as they made their way toward the theatre.
“Of course.”
Her expression changed for a fraction of a moment, as if she was fighting to keep the mask on. But then she was serene again, focused, as they moved around the side of the theatre to a small door he’d never known was there.
“Actor entrance,” she explained as they stepped into the cool darkness.
It took a moment for his eyes to adjust as she closed the door and left them in dusty, filtered darkness. During the day the building was quiet, with none of the bustle or noise of a night of a performance.
“Is anyone here?” Graham asked, whispering like they were in a church or on other hallowed ground.
She nodded. “Yes, there’s always someone hard at work here. Actors rehearsing, stage people working on props or other set dressing. There’s a world of effort that goes into entertaining the ton, Your Grace.”
She guided him through back hallways that he’d never seen during his times visiting her here, and finally they popped up behind the stage. A lady stood in the middle of the stage, a seamstress adjusting her hem as she read over lines, testing out different ways to say the same words as she called them out to the empty seats before her.
“Katie?” Adelaide called out, and the actress turned her head. When she saw Adelaide her eyes went wide.
“Good Lord, Lydia! Melinda has been worried sick.” Her gaze moved to Graham, curious, wary, and he inclined his head slightly as a greeting.
“Have you heard about Sir Archibald?” Adelaide asked, her tone carefully neutral.
The actress flinched. “Aye, it’s all the talk. After what he did to you, to Melinda, and to some of the others, I can’t say anyone’s sorry for that bastard’s demise.”
Adelaide’s lips pursed. “Yes, there were plenty just within our walls who might want to see him dead. Does anyone know what happened?”
Katie’s cheeks paled slightly, and the way her gaze darted away made Graham think she did know more. But with him standing there, she clearly had no intention of saying anything.
Adelaide sighed. “Is Melinda here? Or Toby?”
Katie motioned off stage. “Back in your dressing room.”
Adelaide reached back and took Graham’s hand. “Thank you!” she called out as she guided him down another hallway, the familiar one he’d traveled when he came to call on Lydia after her shows.
“She didn’t want to speak in front of me,” he said.
She nodded without looking back at him. “For many of these women, a title just means a rich man who does as he likes. Not safe.”
He shook his head. “Life for a woman is so very dangerous.”
She stopped before her dressing room door and turned to him, smiling. “Yes. Most men don’t recognize that, but it’s true. And the less power a woman has, the more dangerous it becomes. We have very few laws to protect us, so we must depend on men to do what is right.” She reached up and touched his cheek. “Thankfully, some do.”
“Not enough,” he said softly.
She leaned up to kiss him briefly, then set her shoulders back and opened the dressing room door. As they entered, Graham caught his breath. Adelaide’s understudy Melinda was seated on a settee along the wall with a young man who had shown Graham back to Lydia a few times. Toby, he assumed, based on Adelaide’s earlier conversations. Melinda’s pretty face was battered, both eyes blackened and her cheeks swollen.
Adelaide made a sound of horror and released his hand, rushing into the room as Melinda stood, silent tears streaming down her face while the two women embraced.
“Oh, Lydia,” Melinda sobbed. “I was so worried about you.”
“I’m fine,” Adelaide soothed her as Toby stepped aside and let the two women sit together on the couch. Graham noticed the man watching him warily.
He supposed he’d earned that after the last time he was here and his behavior. All those who worked here must suspect he murdered Sir Archibald, just as the captain had. If he were in their position, he would, too.
“What in the world happened to your face, Melinda?” Adelaide asked, tilting her friend’s head gently to look at the damage in better light.
Melinda shot Graham a look, and he frowned. Here was more proof that men of his kind were a threat to women like this. That they lived in fear until they knew a man wouldn’t use his power over them.
Adelaide followed Melinda’s stare and smiled briefly at Graham. “His Grace is a friend, my dear. I promise you he is not here to do any harm, but to help. You may speak in front of him.”
Melinda didn’t look entirely certain of that fact, but she swallowed hard and her gaze flitted to Toby. “If Lydia says he’s safe,” Toby said softly.
“Very well.” Melinda took a deep, shaky breath. “After you and His Grace left here two nights ago, Sir Archibald was escorted back to his carriage and sent on his way. But he…but he didn’t go home.”
Graham clenched his hands behind his back. He could already see the trail of this story. He already knew the end.
“He came back,” he offered when the young woman seemed to struggle with the telling.
Fresh tears filling Melinda’s blackened eyes. “Yes,” she whispered. “He snuck in and he found me. He…he…”
She ducked her head, and Adelaide caught her breath. “He did this to you?”
Melinda nodded slowly, and it was Toby who stepped forward. The young man was slender and wore spectacles and didn’t look like much at first glance, but now Graham recognized a deep protectiveness in his stare. And a deep love as his gaze fell on Melinda.
“He did that and more,” Toby snarled out, pain making his voice sharp. “When I came in he was—”
He cut himself off and turned away, his shoulders shaking with rage and heartbreak. Graham couldn’t help it—he reached out and placed a hand on the man’s shoulder as comfort.
“You couldn’t have known, Toby,” Melinda gasped out. “If you had you would have come sooner. You would have prevented—”
“But I didn’t, did I?” Toby asked, turning back.
Adelaide shook her head. “I’m so sorry, Melinda. I’m so sorry that it happened to you. But what happened next? Because the man was found floating in the river just beyond the theatre with a bullet between his eyes.”
A heavy silence hung in the room then, a silence that seemed to last forever. Finally, Toby lifted his chin and said, “I shot him. I killed Sir Archibald. And I’m not bloody sorry about it.”