Dauntless (Gentlemen of the Order 1)

“Your men failed to mention they stole the purse and signet ring,” Noah said, jumping to the obvious conclusion.

“It must ‘ave slipped their minds the way that scheming toff slipped their grasp.”

Noah gasped, though wasn’t shocked. “Howard Dunn escaped?”

From the beginning, he’d suspected Eva’s brother had sent the blackmail note. The devious devil must have secret lodgings somewhere. Indeed, why else would he have left all his clothes in Brownlow Street?

“Escaped, or the crafty beggar paid them buggers to let him go.”

The dog’s growl conveyed the Turners’ annoyance.

“So, am I to understand you had nothing to do with stealing a sack of lady’s shoes and boots?” Noah made sure not to mention the hidden gems lest the Turners send a man to Brownlow Street to have a good rummage.

“Shoes and boots?” The angel brushed a golden lock from his brow and laughed. “Do we look like common minstrels out to make a shilling?”

So, why would Howard Dunn write to Kathleen and tell her to steal the wrong boots? The visit to The Compass Inn was meant to bring clarity, yet Noah was as confused as ever.

“Rest assured,” Noah said, trying to keep control of his temper, “when I find Howard Dunn I shall kill him myself.”

“Then you might claim the reward.”

“Reward?”

“We’ve put a price on his head.”

Bloody hell!

Noah needed to bring an end to the Turners’ involvement, not act as their lackey. “I’ll pay Howard Dunn’s debt now, on the condition you revoke the order and regard the matter settled.”

The brothers glanced at each other, clearly suspicious.

“And why would you pay the debt of a man you want to kill?” came the expected challenge.

Noah wasn’t ashamed to admit the truth. “Because I’m in love with his sister and want the rogue out of her life.” It was the first time he had voiced his feelings aloud. The rush of panic didn’t come. Everything about his declaration felt right.

“I’ve never met a woman worth a shilling,” the golden-haired Turner mused. “Three thousand is a mighty debt to pay for a bit of skirt.”

Noah might have mentioned the three hundred pounds Henry was supposed to have paid, but he knew not to chance his luck. “I’ll give you two thousand, plus information that might save you a small fortune and protect your pride.”

The brutish looking Turner snorted. “Do all fancy folk talk in riddles? Give us a clue to this information before we strike a deal.”

As soon as Noah discovered Dunn owed the Turners a debt, he remembered his encounter at the docks. To the criminal fraternity, information was more precious than gold, and it helped to build trust.

“Your man is fighting le Diable next

week,” Noah said. “I know a secret about the Frenchman that will save you from suffering a crushing defeat.”

This time the angel bared his teeth. “Then you’d better spill your guts. And you’d better not take us for fools.”

Noah explained how he had captured a French smuggler whose passenger proved as interesting as the chests of tea and casks of brandy.

“Diable has an identical twin, one considerably less skilled. No doubt you will have witnessed the Frenchman’s recent loss and weighed your fighter’s odds against him.”

Both brothers cursed.

Both brothers gritted their teeth.

“You need to prepare your man to fight the real Diable,” Noah continued, “not the weak imitation. That, or you can attempt to locate the twins and take vengeance for their duplicity.”