“So he’s dead?” Eva said as if afraid the man had nine lives.
“Undoubtedly.”
“I recognised the felon as one of Manning’s men,” Sir Malcolm said, pausing to shout instructions to the constables who seemed incapable of controlling the crowd. “After learning of your troubles, Miss Dunn, I suspect he mistook Mr Hemming for your brother. There’s only one way the man might have learnt of your brother’s location, but that’s an internal matter.”
He meant the only way the felon could have arrived so promptly was if someone at Bow Street had turned traitor.
“I see,” Eva said.
An awkward silence ensued.
“I thought you were busy dealing with Manning, Sir Malcolm?” Noah said when he could no longer stay his curiosity. Every bone in his body said something was wrong. Both men were acting strangely. “How did Daventry persuade you to come here and assist with our case?”
“I’m here on other business,” Sir Malcolm said, albeit reluctantly. “Is there somewhere we might speak privately?”
Privately?
What the devil did Sir Malcolm want with him?
“We can speak here.” Impatience burned. “I have nothing to hide from Cole or Miss Dunn.”
Sir Malcolm’s pained expression drew attention to his heavily wrinkled brow. “It’s about your uncle.”
“Hawkridge? What of him?”
Sir Malcolm swallowed deeply. “I’m afraid Lord Hawkridge is dead.”
Dead?
It took a few seconds to absorb the information.
“Dead? How? Tell me he didn’t trip down the stairs and break his neck.” Noah snorted, despite the rising panic in his chest.
“His valet found him dead in his bedchamber this evening,” Sir Malcolm replied. “By all accounts, he retired earlier this afternoon with his wife. The staff presumed … well, I’m sure you understand your uncle’s need for an heir.”
A host of scenarios formed, the most prevalent being his uncle died from the strain of trying to sire his successor. “Then I must attend Lady Hawkridge.”
Sir Malcolm winced. “Lady Hawkridge has disappeared. There’s some suspicion she killed your uncle and escaped via the adjoining door. Both were locked when the servants tried to enter.”
Noah struggled to absorb the information. Poor Gertrude. The woman must have been pushed to her limits.
“I can vouch that the lady wasn’t in her right mind yesterday,” Noah said, knowing she would likely hang if found. “Though I wonder how a woman so slight had the strength to overpower my uncle.”
Sir Malcolm’s cheeks flamed. “I believe she hit him over the head with a chamber pot. Numerous times. The contents of which were found smeared on his chest.” The magistrate glanced at the body of Hemming sprawled on the pavement. “But I need you to come with me.”
Noah gripped Eva’s hand. “I cannot leave now.”
“Mr Daventry will liaise with Sergeant Reeves and deal with things here,” Sir Malcolm said.
Eva squeezed Noah’s hand. “You should go. The servants must be beside themselves with worry. Mr Sloane and Mr D’Angelo will be here soon. I shall stay with Mr Daventry and Mr Cole, see what is to be done about my brother.”
Noah forgot the fool was still tied up in the attic.
An internal war raged.
He didn’t want to leave her.
Cole gripped Noah’s shoulder. “I shall not leave Miss Dunn’s side until she is safely back in Wigmore Street. You have other responsibilities to deal with at present. Trust me to act in your stead.”
Eva continued to offer words of reassurance until he agreed to accompany the magistrate.
With some reluctance, Noah left Eva and his colleagues and climbed into Sir Malcolm’s coach. He stared out of the window at the gruesome scene, watched Cole hobbling on his left leg as he walked with Eva and Daventry back through the wrought-iron gate. Eva stopped. She glanced back at the coach and offered a weak smile.
For the first time in his life, Noah knew what he wanted.
He wanted to work for the Order, wanted to marry Eva Dunn, lead a full and enriched life. He did not want to be the next Lord Hawkridge. Indeed, he feared nothing would ever be the same again.
Chapter 20
“You can’t leave,” Mr Cole said tersely. He gripped the arm of the sofa in Noah’s drawing room and stood. “You’ll not desert him. I’ll not let you go, not until Ashwood returns.”
“You must sit down, Mr Cole. You need to rest your leg.” Eva crossed the room and forced him back into the seat. “And I’m not deserting him. I must return home to Brownlow Street at some point.” She swallowed in an attempt to hold back the tears. “Now the threat has been dealt with, I’m sure Mr Ashwood will be glad to get back to normality.”
Except he wouldn’t be Mr Ashwood anymore. He would be Lord Hawkridge, a man of title and responsibility. Such a respectable gentleman would need to marry a lady of excellent breeding. A gentle creature who said the right things and behaved with dignity. Not a woman whose heart ruled her head. Not a woman who wrote novels and made love in the garden. Not a woman who longed to kneel at his feet and take his manhood into her mouth.
“Besides, it is almost six o’clock in the morning.” She captured Mr Cole’s booted foot and lifted it gently onto the low stool. “After the night we’ve had, we all need sleep.”
“I’m not a fool, Miss Dunn.”
“No, but I imagine you know all about sacrifice.”
“He’s in love with you.”
Her heart almost burst from her chest. “And I’m in love with him.”
She was so in love with Noah Ashwood she would not make him choose between her and his position. She would not let him torment himself or be forever plagued by guilt.
“Then why must you run away?” Mr Cole challenged.
“You’re his friend. You know his worth. Noah was made for great things.” More important things than passion and pleasure. “With my tainted history, I shall be a stain on his character.”
“If you
