“Stop what?”
“Stop setting about to prove you are irresistible.”
He began sauntering over, and it took every ounce of willpower she possessed not to retreat, not to dash up the stairs that led to a suite of rooms where she resided when not visiting her aunt. But if she did, this idiot man was not going to look out for his own well-being until he was standing in the dock. He came to a stop near enough to her desk that she could smell the bergamot and oranges.
“Why do you care?” he asked quietly.
“Because whoever did this needs to suffer for it.”
“How do you know it wasn’t me?”
“You’d have done it to his face, so he’d have known it was coming and precisely why. You wouldn’t have bludgeoned him on the back of the head like some coward.”
He looked at her with a sort of wonder. “That sentiment comes very close to what I told Swindler.” Reaching out, he trailed his fingers along her jaw. “How is it that you know me so well after such a short time?”
She moved back slightly, just beyond his reach. This was her business establishment, not a brothel, not hisbedchamber, not his carriage. Besides, she had no intention of being affected by any touch, glance, or smile. Trust was at the core of any viable relationship, and he didn’t trust her. Unfortunately, when it came to him, she didn’t trust herself. She would resist the allure of him if it killed her. “I’m incredibly observant. I know a fellow who is equally so. I suggest you hire him. I’ll provide you with his information.” Settling into her chair, she dipped her pen in the inkwell and began to scrawl out his name and address.
“I don’t want to hire him.”
She glanced up. “Don’t be a fool. You need someone whose only goal is to see you exonerated.”
“Then let it be you.”
The words struck her with a force that left her disoriented and feeling as though she was tumbling. She imagined Mr. Mallard had experienced the same when Bishop’s fist had connected with his jaw. “I don’t believe that would be wise or serve your best interests.”
Because she could barely think when he was near. It was deuced irritating.
“On the contrary. You know me. I should think that would give you an advantage. Especially if this police investigation runs amok. This other fellow would ask a thousand questions to which you already know the answers. I’d be ahead in the game with you.”
She shook her head. “It’s not a game. This situation could have dire consequences for you.”
“Which is the reason I need it to be you.”
“I didn’t think you trusted me.”
“I lied. I trust no one more.”
She was grateful to be sitting, because her legs mighthave given out. “Then why indicate otherwise in the carriage?”
“I’m not the sort of man with whom you should associate.”
To protect her. Because that was what he did. Protected women. “Well, at least we can both agree on something.”
A corner of his mouth hitched up. “Not going to argue the point?”
“I’m a fast learner, Mr. Blackwood.”
“I hate when anyone calls me that. It’s my father’s name, not mine.”
She supposed she couldn’t blame him. “You say I shouldn’t associate with you, yet here you are, striving to hire me.”
He glanced around her office, and she wondered if he was searching for something innocuous upon which to comment. Finally, his gaze landed on her, like sunshine over the lawn. “Because you’re clever. Tenacious. I don’t think you enjoyed coming into my bedchamber, and yet you did it anyway. Daring. Not many women would set foot in a brothel.”
“That was more out of curiosity than anything.”
“Still, it involved a bit of bravery, not knowing what you might find.”
She shouldn’t allow him to flatter her into assisting him, and yet the truth was that she was the best one for the job. She knew him, knew Mrs. Mallard, knew Swindler. Knew the situation. “Very well, against my better judgment, I’ll take you on.”
