by Clee, Adele
Bower had taken Jonah to the kitchen. He was easing the badly beaten fellow into a chair and barking orders at the cook to fetch water and clean linen.
Jonah sat slumped forward, his long brown hair hanging loose from its queue. A trail of blood and spittle dribbled from his mouth. He clutched his ribs, struggled to catch his breath.
“What happened?” Noah took hold of Jonah’s chin and examined his bloody nose. “Thankfully, it’s not broken.” He took a damp square of linen from Bower and dabbed the blood from the angry gash to Jonah’s upper lip.
Jonah winced. “I—I had him … caught him down near … near Coal Yard.” He sucked in a sharp breath as Noah continued his ministrations.
“He had you, too, judging by the state of your face.”
Jonah shook his head. “He … he didn’t do this.” He took shallow, measured breaths while hugging his chest. “A bunch of gin swiggers gathered near … near the Kings Arms Yard … came to his aid.”
Bloody drunken fools. Were it not for their mounting problems, Noah would return with Bower and teach them all a hard lesson.
“Did you learn anything before the attack?” Noah took a pot of salve from the cook and smoothed it over Jonah’s bulging plum of an eye. “Did he say who hired him?”
Jonah hissed as the salve stung. “When the fight started, the devil bolted. I heard him shout that some ugly nabob had a score to settle.”
“Lord Benham,” came Eva’s frustrated whisper. “He’s the only ugly nabob I know.”
Undoubtedly. The lord might be a gentleman, but he was also a coward.
A sudden commotion in the hall heralded the arrival of the constable.
They spent thirty minutes giving their account of the terrifying event. Noah mentioned his connection to the magistrate, Sir Malcolm, which had the constable racing off to round up his colleagues to search for the rowdy gin swiggers.
Eva left Bardsley with a list of instructions, boarding the broken window being of primary concern. Twice, Kathleen pestered her mistress about keeping her position. Twice, Eva explained that she was not of a mind to think about that now.
“I’ll need to report to Mr Daventry when I leave here,” Bower said with some reluctance. “He’ll want a full account of what’s happened.”
“Then you must give him a full account.”
Bower nodded. He helped Jonah to his feet, and they made to leave.
The men had reached the hall when Noah called, “Bower.”
The burly watchman glanced back over his shoulder. “Yes, sir.”
“Thank you. Had I not woken when I did, your swift actions would have undoubtedly saved our lives.”
Bower gave a curt nod.
It suddenly occurred to Noah that he had sent McGuffey home. “Might you wait and convey me to Wigmore Street? Miss Dunn will accompany me, too, as it’s not safe for her here.”
“I’ll bring the carriage to Miss Dunn’s door, sir.”
“We’ll be ready to leave in five minutes. And when you speak to Daventry, tell him I’ll meet him in Hart Street in the morning.”
After his showdown with Lucius Daventry, Noah would be in a perfect mood to tackle the devious Lord Benham.
Chapter 14
Teeth bared, Lucius Daventry braced his hands on the opposite side of the desk in the Hart Street study. “You’re off the case!”
Noah’s temper flared as fast as a firework at Vauxhall. “Like hell I am!” He shot out of his seat, his need to defend his position firing him into action.
“Cole will take responsibility for finding Miss Dunn’s brother.”
“No!”
“No?” Daventry straightened. “Must I remind you that men risk their lives to oust the truth? Do you want to hear the story of how I dragged my friend from the Thames, a knife protruding from his chest?”
It was a tragic tale, one Noah had heard umpteen times. One used to explain the need for rules and order. “There’s no need. I am in full command of my faculties.”
“Ha! You’ve had intimate relations with a client. Miss Dunn is currently residing in Wigmore Street so you may continue this affair.”
No, Miss Dunn was currently seated across the hall in the drawing room, Daventry’s wife for company, listening to every word.
“My relationship with Miss Dunn has nothing to do with the case.”
He thought of the intimate breakfast they’d shared. How beautiful she looked with strawberry jam coating her lips. How he’d enjoyed licking them clean.
Daventry snorted. “It has everything to do with the case. You attacked Lord Benham. I had to drag the truth from Cole this morning. Of course, he defended you, insisted you were provoked.”
“Benham is a vile creature. He’s lucky I didn’t throttle him to death.” And if he laid a hand on Eva again, Noah would do more than strangle the bastard.
“You rarely lose your temper,” Daventry challenged. “Does that not speak volumes? I imagine your actions had Benham hiring a thug from the rookeries to exact revenge. You might have died had Bower not witnessed the attack.”
That was the crux of Daventry’s anxiety.
Panic manifesting as anger.
“I’ve risked my life many times. I might have died when Mr Fellows threatened me with a loaded pistol in the bank vault.” Although he had known Fellows hadn’t the courage to shoot. “I might have died when that French smuggler sent me hurling into the Thames.”
“Precisely my point. The risk to life is greater when an agent is distracted.”
“I’m not distracted. I’m in—” Noah stopped abruptly.
What was he? In awe of the woman who had spent the morning plotting ways to catch her blackmailer? Infatuated by the woman whose delectable mouth banished his nightmares? Inflamed by the depth of her passion? Intrigued?
“I’m interested in her opinion,” Noah finished. Perhaps now was the time to reveal his plans, speak of his promise. “So much so, I’ve asked her to assist me in finding her brother.”
Daventry stared, open-mouthed. Aghast.
“I thought it would distract her mind from the fact she might have died last night, might have lost her home,” Noah added.
“Once again, you prove my point.” Daventry’s voice was tight with disapproval. “You’ve lost your mind. I’ll not have her death on my conscience. No. Cole will investigate and inform Miss Dunn of the outcome.”
Noah squared his shoulders. “I’ve never failed you before. I don’t intend to fail you ever. Trust my judgement. Allow me to work with Miss Dunn and bring an end to her problems.”
“No.”
Surely Daventry could make allowances. “You worked with your wife to solve the case of Atticus Atwood’s journals, so I’m sure you know what I must do.”
Noah wasn’t sure what he would do. He could not turn his back on his friends and colleagues, could not abandon Eva, either.
Daventry folded his arms across his broad chest. “Do you think I wanted to put Sybil in that position?” His raised voice was sure to gain the ladies’ attention. “Fetch my wife. She will tell you I did everything in my power to protect her. Hell, she spent a year thinking I despised her just so I could keep her safe.”
And yet everything had worked out perfectly.
Noah had never seen a couple more in love.
“And if you could change the course of history, if you had to do what was deemed right, would you? Would you let Bower deal with Sybil’s problems while you watch from the comfort of your armchair?”
The questions caught Lucius Daventry by surprise. He took a moment to reflect before saying, “It’s different. I loved her.”
The blunt reply left Noah questioning his own feelings.
He thought about Eva constantly. There was something special about her, something he’d been aware of from the beginning. The magnetic pull proved too powerful to ignore. He was distracted, possessive, obsessed. Damn it, there was every chance he was in love, too.
“Would you cha
nge anything?” Noah reiterated.
Daventry looked Noah in the eye. “I wouldn’t change a damn thing.”
“Now can you see my dilemma?”
A light knock on the door had a frustrated Lucius Daventry charging across the room.
Sybil Daventry stood in the hall, her smile as vibrant as her curly copper hair. “We couldn’t help but hear parts of your conversation. May we come in?”
“I don’t think—”
“Please.”
“Very well.” Lucius Daventry stepped back, his rigid countenance softening as he stared at his wife.
“Miss Dunn has something she wants to say.” Sybil touched her husband’s arm affectionately, and he inclined his head in response. “I think it’s important.”
Daventry closed the door behind them. He carried another chair from the corner of the room and invited both ladies to sit. Then he moved to stand to the right of the desk, his powerful presence commanding everyone’s attention.
“Well, Miss Dunn?” Daventry said. “Do you wish to defend Mr Ashwood?”
Noah glanced at Eva. She sat as confidently as she did the first day they met. If she was intimidated by the master of the Order, it wasn’t apparent. After what she had endured, most women would take to their chambers complaining of a megrim.
“Sir, a catalogue of terrifying events first brought me to Hart Street,” she said, her voice calm like the gentle flow of water on a breezeless day. “I wasn’t sure what to expect, wasn’t sure if anyone would help me, but my situation had grown desperate.”
“We work to bring peace to the lives of the tormented,” Daventry replied proudly. “It’s a dangerous calling, Miss Dunn, as you discovered firsthand last night.”
“More dangerous than I might ever have imagined.” The hint of sadness in her eyes touched Noah’s heart. “I could have picked any agent to hear my case, but I chose Mr Ashwood because it was evident he commanded everyone’s respect. You must agree, respect is earned, and so I concluded that he must be a man worthy of such great esteem. Yes?”
Daventry glanced at his wife and with some reluctance said, “Yes, Miss Dunn. My colleague is exceptionally good at what he does.”
“And it is clear the men look to him in your absence,” she pressed. “They seek his guidance, value his opinion.”
“Yes.”
“Because he makes responsible decisions.”
“Yes, Miss Dunn. Get to the point.”
“State your issue with Mr Ashwood acting as my agent.” Eva arched a challenging brow. “Be blunt, sir. I welcome your honesty. Nothing you say could cause me the least offence.”
A rush of pride filled Noah’s chest, mingling with a far more compelling emotion. Eva Dunn was the most remarkable woman he’d ever met. A woman he adored.
“Very well, Miss Dunn,” Daventry said, keen to rise to the challenge. “My issue is you’ve been intimate. Ashwood kissed you in front of your publisher. He told the devil you were betrothed. As a gentleman, I shall not delve into the reason he was half-naked in your house at a ridiculous hour of the morning.”
Eva raised her chin. “What happens privately between two consenting individuals has no bearing here, sir.”
Sybil Daventry pursed her lips to hide a smile.
“I beg to differ,” Daventry countered. “A man loses focus when his mind is absorbed with other things. I’ll not condone such actions when it puts people’s lives at risk.”
Eva glanced at Noah, her gaze drifting slowly over his face and body as if he were as delicious as a meringue sculpture at Gunter’s. “You do Mr Ashwood a disservice. You mistake him for a weak man. If I trust him with my life, then so should you.”
A lump formed in Noah’s throat. The only person to defend him with such passion had long since passed. He’d not thought anyone could replace his grandfather in his affections—until now.
“It’s more complicated than that,” Daventry said.
“Then let me make my position clear.” Eva rose gracefully from the chair and straightened her skirts. “Despite knowing of the trauma I face if left to deal with my problems alone, I will walk out of this house and never bother Mr Ashwood again.”
What the devil?
Noah’s pulse soared. He had grown more than attached to the woman who admired his poetry.
“I will happily do that,” she continued, “if it means he can keep his position with the Order, if he can continue to help people in the remarkable way he has helped me.”
Good Lord!
No one had ever fought for him before.
A wave of euphoria surged through his body, chasing away the dark shadows plaguing his heart. The need to round the desk, take the woman in his arms and kiss her senseless left him jittery, restless.
“My husband’s position demands he place the lives of his men over personal needs,” Sybil said in support of Lucius Daventry. “But I shall ask him to recall a time when we sat in a carriage with the Wycliffs under similar circumstances. You claimed the right to protect me, Lucius, refused to listen to reason.”
“It’s different,” he repeated.
“No, it isn’t. And so I must ask you the same question Damian Wycliff asked his wife.”
“There is no need. I recall it verbatim.”
Still, Sybil said, “Can you not see what is happening here?”
Lucius Daventry remained silent.
His wife stood and closed the gap between them. She whispered something in his ear, something that made him close his eyes and sigh with contentment.
Noah wanted to touch Eva in the tender way Daventry touched his wife. He wanted the world to know her value, to see her the way he did.
“You put forward a persuasive argument, Miss Dunn.” Daventry released his wife, and she returned to her seat. “As did Finlay Cole when he insisted on fighting your corner.”
“Are you saying I can continue to assist Miss Dunn?” Noah asked, relief bursting through him. He would have done anything to prevent her from walking away. “So, she may accompany me on this investigation?”
Daventry cleared his throat. “Yes, but you will keep me informed of every decision, will allow me to assist you myself should it prove necessary.”
“Agreed.” A slight apprehension surfaced, brought about by the desire to have Eva Dunn all to himself. “I intend to visit Lord Benham this afternoon. I shall tell him we apprehended the villain who started the fire and attempt to gain a confession.”
“No. When in this mood, you’re likely to punch the viscount.”
“We could go,” Sybil said, gesturing to Eva.
Daventry’s jaw firmed. “No.”
“You can arrange for Lord Newberry to accompany us,” Sybil persisted. “Tell him that if his friend reveals all he knows about Miss Dunn’s brother and the attack on her house, we shall never remind Newberry of his illegal dealings again.”
“It’s not safe,” Noah countered. Having witnessed the way Benham abused Eva, he would never ask her to sit in a room with the devil.
“Lucius, you’re on excellent terms with Sir Malcolm Langley,” Sybil said. “Have the magistrate accompany us.”
“Langley is plotting to arrest Manning today and is otherwise engaged.”
Noah’s chest felt a little lighter knowing Manning would be behind bars. But the villain was influential enough to order an attack from a prison cell.
“We should all go,” Eva said, though the tightness around her eyes revealed her anxiety. “Lord Newberry can advise his friend, and you may all wait in the drawing room while I speak to Lord Benham alone.”
“Alone? No!” Noah snapped. Fear hammered in his chest. “I’m likely to kill him the next time he hurts you.”
“Noah, the sooner this matter is resolved, the sooner we can sleep easy at night,” Eva said, not caring she had used his given name in front of the Daventrys. “I believe Lord Benham knows more about the situation with Howard than he professes.” She paused. “Perhaps I could go with Mr Cole. H
e is sure to approach the matter objectively.”
While Noah reined in his chaotic thoughts, Daventry said, “Miss Dunn has a point. After his bravery at Waterloo, there isn’t a peer alive who would cross Finlay Cole. And you know Cole would protect her with his life.”
Noah couldn’t argue against sound logic. But he should be the one to protect her. What if something happened and he had to live with the guilt, forever blaming himself? And yet Daventry was right. A wise man did not deal with a situation from a place of heightened emotion. Noah had to draw strength from the man beneath the fears and doubts. The part that was a stable, ever calming presence.
“Agreed,” he said. “On the condition I can remain outside in the carriage.” He refused to spend the time pacing back and forth, fearing the worst.
Daventry nodded. “Agreed. I shall pay a visit to Newberry and have him caution his friend. Make the arrangements with Cole, and we’ll reconvene later today.”
When the Daventrys made no move to leave, Noah said, “May I have a moment alone with Miss Dunn?” The need to reward her for her impassioned speech still burned fiercely within.
The Daventrys removed to the drawing room without passing comment and seemed just as keen to spend time alone.
Noah closed the door gently. He took a few seconds to slow his racing pulse before turning around to face the woman who held him spellbound.
Eva stood a few feet away, concern etched on her brow. “What is it?” She seemed confused. “Are you angry with Mr Daventry? I thought he was remarkably fair considering.”
“Perhaps because you put forward a convincing argument.” A new and unclaimed emotion trickled through his body like brandy on a winter’s night, warm and deeply satisfying. “You made me sound like a saint.”
She gave a half shrug. “You are to me. I meant every word.”
“But you were wrong when you called me responsible.” He’d let his desires control him, behaved like a young buck in the first throes of manhood. “Even now, while the Daventrys sit just beyond this door, I want to gather you in my arms and indulge my cravings.”
