Free The Suspect's Daughter: Regency Romance (Rogue Hearts Book 4) by Donna Hatch

offer stands. If I can help...”
    “I know.” Grant turned up his collar against the sprinkling of rain and put his hands in his overcoat pockets.
    As they reached the Amesbury town coach, Cole gestured. “Can I offer you a ride?”
    Considering the excuse he’d given for being here, Grant cast off his usual response and replaced it with, “My thanks.”
    Inside the Amesbury-crested coach, Grant settled against the upholstered squabs. He’d forgotten the luxury of traveling without getting one’s teeth rattled. As the well-sprung coach glided over the normally bumpy road, Grant glanced out of the windows. They left behind the towering Westminster and turned onto St. James Place, passing the green park bearing the same name as the street.
    He returned his focus to Cole who watched him thoughtfully. Finally, Grant asked, “What do you know about Fairley?”
    “Devoted, hard-working, well-spoken. Honorable.”
    A description that differed from Barnes’s.
    Cole continued, “His son was killed in the war. His wife died of some illness a few years ago.”
    “Who are his closest friends?”
    “From what I can see, Lord St. Cyr and Mr. Dawson, among others.”
    Absently, Grant nodded. He’d met Dawson at the ball. And Lord St. Cyr had been the recipient of a note as well. They must be co-conspirators.
    Cole grinned. “He has a pretty daughter. Not the usual society miss. She reminds me a bit of Alicia—genuine, in possession of substance, truly kind, steady.”
    Grant scowled. “I’m not interested in his daughter.”
    Still grinning, Cole stretched out his legs. “I see.”
    Let Cole believe what he will. Grant’s only interest in Fairley’s daughter was as a possible means to incriminate her father.
    “Do you want to come home with me for dinner? Alicia would be happy to have you join us.”
    Grant tossed out his usual response without thinking. “No. I’ll eat later.”
    Cole leaned forward and eyed him. “You don’t have to wait for a wedding or funeral to come by. Jared and Elise, and Christian and Genevieve are in town for a few weeks. Alicia wants to plan a family dinner. Will you come?”
    Grant let out a healthy snort. “And spend the evening with a room full of newlyweds? I’d rather put out an eye.”
    “Margaret and Rachel would be there, too.”
    “They aren’t enough buffer.” Besides, Grant might not be able to refrain from stabbing Margaret’s husband to end her misery.
    “Is it the abundance of marital affection that bothers you or the fact that you haven’t found a loving wife, yet?”
    A sharp, bitter laugh leaped out of Grant. “Marital affection turns my stomach. And I have no wife to find.”
    Cole eyed him thoughtfully, speculatively, so Grant turned his attention back out the window.
    “Did she break your heart or die a tragic death?”
    That grabbed Grant’s attention. “Who?”
    “The reason you’re so bitter. You’ve always been aloof and cynical, but since the war....” He shook his head. “What happened?”
    As visions of her , and the love he’d believed they’d shared mingled with her final act of betrayal crowded his mind, Grant clamped his mouth closed and glared before returning his focus out the window.
    When he thought he could speak around his bitterness, he said, “This is close enough. I’ll walk the rest of the way.” He banged on the roof to signal the coachman.
    Releasing a long exhale, Cole dragged a hand through his hair. “Don’t leave. I’m not trying to pry; just understand.”
    “There’s nothing to understand.” As the coach slowed to turn, Grant opened the door and jumped out.
    He strode to the Bow Street Magistrate’s office and sat at the back of the courtroom while Richard Barnes processed the latest batch of criminals the Runners hauled in. As Grant sat, he tugged at his cravat until he loosened enough that he could breathe. The whiteness of his shirt and neck cloth made him feel conspicuous in the dimly lit