She shrugged. “My brother, my publisher and an old friend.”
Strange that she listed them in that order as her brother would be top of his list of suspects.
“Would you wait here for a moment, Miss Dunn?”
“Certainly.” The lady’s affected smile failed to reach her eyes. She was more anxious than she would have him believe.
Noah admired that.
Women used many techniques to incite a man’s pity. There was something about Miss Dunn’s proud chin he found appealing. There was something about the whole package that held him captive.
Noah left the lady scribbling in her notebook and returned to the drawing room. His friends were still drinking coffee and studying the broadsheets, noting information that might prove pertinent to future cases.
“Cole, may I speak to you privately?”
All three men glanced up from their relaxed positions on the sofas, their expressions brimming with curiosity.
“Of course.” Cole folded his newspaper and placed it on the low table next to the coffee pot.
Noah strode to the dining room, and Cole joined him there.
“You’re taking the case, I presume,” Cole said, closing the door.
“You know I hate to see a woman in distress.”
&n
bsp; Society had treated Noah’s mother like a pariah after his father’s untimely death. He had been a boy of ten, but the disastrous event afterwards left a gaping wound in his heart that had never healed.
Cole arched a brow. “Yet Miss Dunn appeared so composed.”
“Appeared being the operative word.”
“And your offer of assistance has nothing to do with the fact you find her interesting? I saw a glimmer of satisfaction in your eyes when she chose you. Women rarely capture your notice.”
“You were paying close attention.”
“Daventry’s stance is firm when it comes to relationships with clients.” Cole’s dark gaze carried a clear warning.
Lucius Daventry had hired them nine months ago. He was the master of the Order. A man who sought to right injustices, too. Despite Daventry’s illegitimacy, he had inherited a vast sum from his father the Duke of Melverley, money he had put to good use. Before that, Daventry had worked tirelessly to help the innocent escape transportation or the hangman’s noose. And while the gentleman rarely took cases of his own these days, he was the true overseer.
“I’ll admit I find the lady interesting.” More interesting than any woman of his acquaintance, Noah thought. “But I have no intention of pursuing a relationship with Miss Dunn. I have a job to do.” Every woman he helped eased the pain of regret over his mother’s suffering. If only for a short time. “Have I ever broken the rules?”
“Never.”
“Then I thank you for your counsel, but you have nothing to fear.”
“We need you here,” Cole persisted. “D’Angelo needs someone to keep him in line. Perhaps I should take the case.”
The sudden flurry of panic in Noah’s chest should have served as a warning. Yet the need to discover more about the pretty novelist, the need to soothe her woes, burned in his veins. Working with Miss Dunn would be a real test of his commitment to the Order.
“I’m motivated to help desperate women, not seduce them.” Noah clasped Cole’s shoulder in a gesture of reassurance. “I give you my word, should lust overcome logic, I will seek your advice.”
Cole nodded but seemed unconvinced. “You didn’t call me in here to discuss your attraction to Miss Dunn.”
“An attraction that will soon pass,” Noah reaffirmed. He was confident it would. “The lady’s case is complicated. I need you to visit Dermot Flannery and ask about his dealings with a man named Howard Dunn. By all accounts, he gambled away his inheritance at The Silver Serpent.”
Though Miss Dunn seemed honest to a fault, Noah never took a client at their word. Facts were often distorted. Tainted by bitter memories. Twisted into a story to support the victim’s argument.