“Would you change 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
