Confessions at Midnight

the news that the law were here. Besides, can't say I minded the thought of them blokes waitin' on ye. As they should. Ye're an important man. God-awful hour for them to be disturbin' ye. Especially…'

'Especially what?'

Samuel swallowed, his Adam's apple bobbing. Several seconds passed, then he said in a rush, 'Wot if they're here 'bout me?' Before Daniel could speak, Samuel rushed on, 'I ain't done nothin', milord. I swear it. Upon me life. I promised ye I wouldn't steal and I haven't.'

'I don't doubt you, Samuel.'

That seemed to calm Samuel a bit, and he jerked his head in a nod. 'Thank ye.'

'I'm sure whatever they want has nothing to do with you. And if it does, it's obviously a misunderstanding that we'll work out.'

Fear clouded Samuel's dark eyes, a look Daniel hadn't seen in many months. One he hated seeing now. 'But wot if it's about somethin' I stole before? Before ye helped me? Wot if they want to take me away-'

'No one is taking anyone anywhere,' Daniel said firmly. He gently set Blinky on the floor then rose. 'I'll go see what they want.'

'Ye'll tell me wot it is?' Samuel asked in an unsteady voice. 'As soon as they leave?'

He clamped his hand on Samuel's shoulder. 'As soon as they leave. Don't worry. I'm sure it's nothing.'

He strode toward the drawing room, praying he was right. And knowing he'd protect Samuel with whatever resources necessary.

When he entered the foyer, Barkley straightened to his full height. 'Are you ready to be announced to your callers, my lord?' the butler asked in the same dour monotone he'd used for every one of the ten years he'd been in Daniel's employ.

'Yes. I gather they've been waiting quite some time.' He cast the butler a sidelong glance. 'But I suspect you knew that would be the case when you allowed Samuel to bring me word that they were here.'

'Serves them right to wait, calling at such an unfashionable hour.' Barkley hoisted his nose upward and gave an elegant sniff. 'Especially if they're here about Samuel.'

They'll have a hell of a fight on their hands if they are. 'One way to find out.'

He followed Barkley down the corridor, and after the butler announced him, entered the room. Charles Rayburn, the magistrate, rose from his chair next to the fire. Daniel judged the tall, robust man to be in his mid-forties. He noted that Rayburn's sharp green eyes took in every detail of his appearance.

'Good morning, my lord,' Rayburn said. 'My apologies for the early morning call.' He nodded toward the other man, who stood near the fireplace.

'This is Mr. Gideon Mayne. Mr. Mayne is a Bow Street Runner.'

Daniel's initial impression of Mr. Mayne was that he was very tall, very muscular, and very solemn. His face, which sported a nose that had clearly been broken at one time, looked as if it were hewn from stone. Clearly this was not a social call.

After nodding to both men, he indicated the chairs set around the hearth and asked, 'Shall we sit?'

Mr. Mayne looked as if sitting was the last thing he wished to do, but he offered no objection. After they were all settled, Daniel asked, 'What is the purpose of this visit?'

'It concerns Lady Walsh's masquerade last evening, my lord,' Rayburn said.

Daniel allowed only his surprise-and none of his relief-to show. Obviously this wasn't about Samuel. 'What about it?'

'You were costumed as a highwayman, were you not?'

'I was.'

Rayburn and Mayne exchanged a quick glance. 'You were seen in the company of a particular lady last evening, my lord.'

An image of Carolyn instantly materialized in his mind. 'What of it?'

'I'm afraid, my lord, that lady's been murdered.'

Chapter Five

I'd always believed myself a modest person, and, looking back, at the beginning of our liaison, I was. But as our relationship deepened, my mantle of modesty disintegrated. I became bold. Filled with passions and needs I'd never before imagined. I craved him, his touch, his kiss, the feel of his skin, as I imagine one would a drug.

Memoirs of a Mistress by An Anonymous Lady

Everything inside Daniel froze. An icy wind seemed to blow through the hole the magistrate's words punched through him. A silent No! screamed through his mind, one he surely would have roared aloud had he been able to draw a breath. An unbearable weight crushed his chest, seemingly collapsing his lungs, shattering his heart. Carolyn… dear God, not Carolyn.

'Lady Crawford's body was discovered just before dawn in the mews behind Lady Walsh's town house,' Rayburn said.

The magistrate's words slowly filtered through the numb shock engulfing him like a black fog. He frowned. Then blinked. 'Did… did you say Lady Crawford?'

'Yes, my lord. Appears she was bludgeoned to death. Still wore her party costume. Some sort of damsel in distress ensemble. She hadn't been dead long when a rat catcher found her.'

His profound relief that the victim wasn't Carolyn rendered him nearly light-headed. Then the ramifications of the magistrate's news about Blythe, Lady Crawford, sank in. 'Good God,' he said, dragging his hands down his face. 'Have you captured the person responsible?'

'No, my lord. Indeed, we've only just begun making inquiries.'

Daniel looked at Mr. Mayne. 'You're assisting?'

'I've been hired by Lady Crawford's family. Mr. Rayburn has kindly allowed me to be present during his inquiries.' He regarded Daniel steadily through eyes so dark it was impossible to discern the pupil from the iris. 'You were acquainted with Lady Crawford.'

'Yes.'

'Intimately acquainted.'

It was a statement rather than a question. Daniel kept his expression impassive and studied Gideon Mayne. With his stark features, slightly rumpled clothes, and dark hair that needed a trim, no on would ever accuse him of being classically handsome, although he wasn't unattractive. But he possessed an intimidating air, the sort that suggested he wouldn't hesitate to put his considerable size and strength to use if necessary. Indeed, he looked as if he'd just finished pummeling a dozen or so men into the dirt and wouldn't mind doing so again. Starting with him.

'I'm not in the habit of kissing and telling, Mr. Mayne.'

'This is a murder investigation, Lord Surbrooke,' said the Runner without the slightest change in his forbidding expression. 'Not a digging expedition for gossip fodder.'

Not caring for the man's manner, Daniel deliberately waited to the mental count of ten before replying. 'Blythe and I are-were-longtime friends.' God, it simply wasn't possible that she was dead.

'Just how friendly were you?' Mayne persisted.

'I hardly see how that matters,' Daniel said, 'unless…' He lifted a single brow and shifted his gaze to Rayburn. '… I'm a suspect.'

Mayne didn't deny it, and Rayburn shot the Runner a quick scowl. 'We're asking the same questions of everyone who attended last night's party, hoping that maybe someone saw something that will lead us to the killer.' Rayburn withdrew a notebook from inside his jacket then asked, 'Did you see anything or anyone that might be considered suspicious?'

Daniel considered for several seconds, then shook his head. 'No. The party was the usual crush. I noticed