“Don’t be.” Noah squeezed her hand in a gesture of reassurance. “Like a true predator, Hemming knew to play to your weaknesses. As soon as Mr Lydford returns, I shall arrange a meeting.”
Her blue eyes brightened. “That would be wonderful.” She glanced at the ungloved hand clasped around hers. “Good day, sir.”
Noah released his grip.
She opened the carriage door, and her footman hurried out of the house. The young, golden-haired servant offered his hand. A lonely woman might take advantage, suggest a way the servant might supplement his income. And yet he knew Miss Dunn would never abuse her position.
“Miss Dunn!” he called, leaning forward in his seat.
“Yes.” She swung around, excitement flashing in her eyes.
“Please inform me when you receive the next blackmail note. Equally, send word to Hart Street should your brother return.”
She nodded. “I will.”
“And it would be wise to err on the side of caution when venturing about town.”
“You mean don’t walk the streets alone at night.” Her amused smile tugged at his insides.
“Exactly.” Hell, why couldn’t he simply say goodbye and shut the damn door? “If you must go out, take your maid and hire a hackney.”
“Have no fear, sir. I rarely attend functions and have no need to revisit Mr Hemming. Goodbye, Mr Ashwood.”
“Goodbye, Miss Dunn.”
Noah slammed the door and rapped on the roof. He fell back into the seat as the carriage lurched forward and rattled along the cobbled street. Later this afternoon he would meet Lucius Daventry. It would afford an opportunity to address his priorities. To forget about this little infatuation and focus on what mattered—working to right a catalogue of injustices.
* * *
“Cole tells me you have a new client, a new case.” Lucius Daventry splashed brandy into a glass and swallowed the contents. Despite his tall, athletic frame he looked tired, a little weary. “When I asked him about it, he told but half a tale. You know it’s important to keep the men informed of your whereabouts.”
Noah sat behind the desk in the study, elbows resting on the polished surface, his hands clasped. “It’s a complicated case.” Made more complicated by the fact the client was an original with a mouth as sweet as honey.
Daventry left the glass on the side table and came to sit in the chair once occupied by Miss Dunn. “I’m all ears.”
“Are you certain you wish to hear about it now? You look as exhausted as Sloane when he carried the boy from the slums. And he’d not slept for three days.”
Daventry rubbed his eyes. “It’s what comes from having two infants cutting teeth at the same time. Perhaps I should have listened to my bull terrier of a nursemaid and set up the nursery in the east wing.”
“You could sleep in the east wing. Though I imagine you let Sybil get a good night’s rest.”
While Lucius Daventry was as determined and as dangerous as all the members of the Order, he did not hide the fact he was deeply in love with his wife. Noah couldn’t help but be slightly envious of his situation.
Daventry grinned. “She’s extremely grateful, and that’s all I wish to say on the matter. Now, for some reason, you’re reluctant to reveal certain aspects of the case.”
“Not at all,” he lied.
Daventry would see through his facade. He would remove Noah from the case and have Cole assist Miss Dunn. Perhaps it was for the best. But what if Hemming refused to accept he had lost his lady love? What if they had to play the betrothed couple a while longer?
“Miss Dunn, isn’t it?” Daventry replied. “Cole said that before giving her name, the lady was preoccupied with remembering an acid that can kill a man in seconds. What a novel introduction.”
“The lady is unique.”
“Annoyingly unique, or temptingly unique?”
There was little point postponing the inevitable. It was better to use reason with Lucius Daventry than to get caught in a web of lies.
“A man who admires courage and intelligence might lose his head.”