Dauntless (Gentlemen of the Order 1)

They spent ten minutes waiting for everyone to arrive before depositing the valise near the ancient oak tree and taking their positions. Time ticked by slowly. The agonising wait was akin to teetering on a precipice, wondering when one might fall.

“What time is it?” she whispered as they hid near the steps between Fountain Court and the gardens.

The light breeze brought the fragrant smell of summer flowers—mignonette and chrysanthemums—though the sweet scent did nothing to alleviate her unease.

“There’s no point pulling out my watch,” Noah said, his gaze fixed on the leather valise.

Mr Cole had climbed the nearby post, blown out the lamp and plunged them into darkness.

“We’re sure to hear a chime from somewhere,” Noah added.

Soon, various bells across town chimed the midnight hour, the sounds echoing in the distance like a death knell. But they lacked synchronicity, and Eva struggled to keep count. Was it an omen? A warning that nothing flowed smoothly? Even the best-laid plans went awry.

“Hush,” Noah whispered, though they had done nothing more than breathe.

They waited.

Seconds felt like minutes.

Minutes felt like hours.

The air thrummed with a choking tension.

What if Howard did something reckless?

What if he pulled a pistol and shot blindly in the dark?

But there was no time to feed her anxiety. The clip of booted steps on the flagstones cut through the stillness.

Merciful Mary!

“He’s here,” Noah mouthed, and then made a hand signal to Mr Daventry who hid near the opposite set of steps.

A figure appeared from the right, slinking through the shadows, avoiding the faint glow of the lamp in the courtyard. The man moved stealthily. His shifty nature marked him as the blackmailer come to collect his prize. Indeed, he stopped near the tree and gaped at the brown leather bag.

“Wait until he picks it up and walks away,” Mr Cole whispered.

Eva’s heartbeat thumped loudly in her ears. Every muscle in her body was ready to charge at the wastrel and knock sense into his thick skull. Yet this lean figure lacked her brother’s confident bearing. His gait lacked the arrogance of one who believed himself above mere mortals.

The fellow glanced left and right in the gloom before crouching down beside the bag and unbuckling the straps. After a quick ferret inside, he scooped the bag into his arms, took to his heels and bolted.

The small courtyard erupted into a hive of activity. Shouts and barked orders flew like arrows through the darkness, hitting their targets. Mr Sloane appeared and gave chase as the mystery blackmailer darted through an alley to the left.

Everyone followed suit, except for Mr Daventry who cried that he would trap the villain in the next courtyard.

“I don’t think it’s Howard,” Eva panted, gripping Noah’s hand. She had to yank her skirts past her calves to keep his fast pace. “Howard has a certain way of walking, lofty and dandified.”

“A man doesn’t care about such things when darting about like a frightened rabbit.”

“It’s not Howard,” she repeated. The fleeing silhouette did not look like Mr Hemming, either.

“Whoever he is, he’s fast on his feet,” Mr Cole panted as their quarry headed along Middle Temple Lane.

Eva had thought the blackmailer was remarkably clever for choosing the Temple as the meeting ground, though she realised her error when the fool ran into a dead end. Still, that didn’t stop him from attempting to climb the brick wall. In his desperation to escape, he was forced to drop the valise.

Noah released her hand and sprinted forward. He grabbed the fiend by the back of his coat and pulled him to the ground.

“Argh! Get off m-me,” the f