Eva smiled. “Because he believes it will be impossible for you to cover every exit. So we know the blackmailer is not Lord Benham.”
Logic said she was right, but he wanted to hear her opinion. “And why is that?”
“Because the viscount knows you have at least four capable men at your disposal if one includes Mr Daventry. My brother knows nothing of your background. He knows the area well and often assisted Mr Becker in his frequent trips to the library.”
She was right.
Howard Dunn was the most likely suspect.
“What about Hemming?”
She shivered at the mere mention of the man’s name. “He would never publish such a damning article, not when people would hold him equally accountable.”
“Unless jealousy drives him to cause a rift between us. Maybe he presumes a scandal would bring an end to our betrothal.”
They might have examined Mr Hemming’s motive further had it not been for a cacophony of shouts and curses erupting in the hall.
Eva shot to her feet and hurried to the landing. “Come quickly. Bower has returned with Jonah.” She darted into her bedchamber, returned seconds later without her mother’s jewels.
Noah yanked open the door to Howard Dunn’s armoire. He took a neatly folded shirt from the shelf—though it looked a little too small—and dragged it over his head before racing downstairs.
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.”