But if Howard was dead, who sent the blackmail note? Who demanded Kathleen gather Eva’s shoes and dump them in a coal sack? Who started the fire in her brother’s bedchamber?
“Besides,” the viscount continued, “Clara would never forgive me if something happened to Miss Dunn.”
For a moment, Eva just stared. So, it was all well and good to make her his mistress but not murder her in her bed. This vile creature was unaware of his own hypocrisy. That said, he certainly seemed to care for his sister. So much so, at some point, Eva might hope for a reunion with her friend.
“Thank you,” Eva forced herself to say, knowing she would have to deal with this man if she wanted to see Clara and the child. She turned to Mr Cole. “Is there anything more you wish to ask?”
Mr Cole studied the viscount through suspicious eyes and said, “I’d like a brief description of the kidnappers. But otherwise, no. I’m satisfied we’ve heard the truth.”
“Very well,” the lord countered and proceeded to divulge characteristics that might apply to hundreds of men from the rookeries. “Now, if you’ve quite finished, get the hell out of my house.”
Lord Benham’s butler seemed just as relieved as Eva when she stepped over the threshold and out onto Portman Square. She took a moment to draw a deep breath, though terrible images of savage dogs bombarded her mind.
“Do those in the criminal underworld really throw their enemies into the fighting pits?” she asked Mr Cole. Try as she might, she could not banish the gory visions from her head. “Are men really so barbaric?”
“Some men rule by fear and have—” Mr Cole began, but Noah’s coachman waved to capture his attention. Mr Cole marched towards the carriage and said, “What is it, McGuffey?”
“It’s Mr Ashwood, sir. He saw someone watching the carriage.” McGuffey was a young man with a kind, moon-shaped face. “He said he saw the same fellow outside his house this morning and took off after the blighter.”
“Took off?” Mr Cole firmed his jaw and scanned the street. “Where?”
“They ran towards Seymour Street, sir.” McGuffey pointed ahead. “He chased the cove into the mews.”
“Wait here, Miss Dunn.” Mr Cole darted away a mere second after issuing the command.
Surely he didn’t expect her to sit in the carriage when she might help calm Noah’s temper? Besides, the thought of sitting alone outside Lord Benham’s house filled her with dread.
“I shall follow them, McGuffey.” Eva raised the hem of her skirts and was already hurrying away when she called over her shoulder, “Park the carriage on Seymour Street and wait there.”
When Eva arrived at the mews, Noah and Mr Cole were already walking back through the cobbled alley. There was no sign of the cove mentioned. She took one look at Noah and knew something was seriously amiss. He strode towards her, hands fisted at his sides, a murderous look in his eyes, a silent rage building. She would not be surprised if he suddenly charged towards her, sword raised, screaming a battle cry.
Sick with worry, she looked to Mr Cole. “Wh-what happened?”
“We have another call to make,” came Mr Cole’s grave reply. “I would suggest you remain in the carriage when we visit Duke Street, but I expect we will need your calming influence.”
Noah remained eerily quiet. The muscles in his shoulders were tight and tense, and she doubted he could grit his teeth any harder.
“Who lives in Duke Street?”
“A dead man,” Noah muttered, looking straight through her.
“Hawkridge,” Mr Cole informed.
“The man you chased worked for your uncle?” Fearing the worst, she peered beyond Noah’s broad shoulders. Deep down, she knew he would never take his grievance out on the man paid to spy. “Where is the fellow now?”
“He escaped through the alley into Berkeley Street.” Mr Cole’s strained voice brimmed with apprehension.
They returned to the carriage and Noah assisted Eva’s ascent. His gentle hand on her back was so opposed to the anger radiating.
They barely spoke during the forty minutes it took McGuffey to navigate the mile and a half across town. Despite the many stops and starts as they journeyed through the bustling streets, nothing calmed Noah’s temper.
“Assist Miss Dunn from the carriage, Cole,” came Noah’s barked instruction as he vaulted to the pavement and marched towards the impressive facade of Number 5 Duke Street.
“Ashwood can appear rather brusque when in a temper,” Mr Cole said, sounding almost friendly. “You must understand that his uncle has caused no end of trouble since inheriting the title.”
Eva placed a comforting hand on Mr Cole’s arm, and the man recoiled. “Sir, I know what it’s like to suffer because of a bothersome family member. Nothing Mr Ashwood could say or do would change my good opinion of him.”
Mr Cole gave a curt nod, and they moved to stand behind the gentleman hammering the brass knocker as if he wished to wake the dead.