“You have nothing with which to arrest us.” Noble tipped his head so his eyes were in shadow.
The Runner strode forward. “I don’t need much.”
“Even a Bow Street Runner needs evidence, and it seems that you might need more than most. Little trouble with your last case, I’m taken to understand.”
The Runner stopped a few feet away and his eyes narrowed. “I thoroughly document every case. There is never anything wrong with my evidence.”
“More than five hundred captures to your name even though you are fresh to the hire, isn’t that so?”
The Runner’s eyes sharpened and Marietta felt a twinge of real fear. What was Noble doing? He might be as wealthy as Croesus, but Bow Street Runners could cause real trouble.
“You seem to have an advantage over me,” the Runner said. “What is your name?”
“Terrence Jones, not at your service.” Noble made a mock bow.
“A smart one, I see,” the Runner said distastefully. “Why are you interested in the Middlesex murders?”
“My lady has an interest. I make sure to sate all of her curiosities.”
Marietta dredged up a smile. The Runner gave her a disgusted look and turned away, but his head whipped back and he studied her.
“And what is her name?”
Obnoxious toad. Not even asking her the question, as if as a woman she didn’t have two solid thoughts between her ears.
“Cornelia Jones. No relation.” Noble smiled in the character of an obnoxious rake with his lazy posture and sly look.
The Runner continued to assess her, eyes narrowed and piercing. “I don’t think that is her name. But I don’t plan on seeing either of you again, do you understand?”
“Of course not, dear honorable sir.”
The Runner stiffened, but turned and left.
Marietta let out a breath. “I think he might have recognized me. I don’t know how. But there was something in his eyes.”
Noble had dropped his pretense and straightened to his full height, eyes narrowed. “Yes. It is just our luck to have Arthur Dresden still interested in the case. I thought he had moved on, but it must be true that he can’t let things go when he doesn’t solve it himself. This makes our task more difficult.”
Marietta had heard of Dresden even before Anthony had mentioned him. He was known for his tenacity. Like a terrier that wouldn’t let go. Always trying to bring peace and justice—at any cost. Although he was reported to be a by-the-book investigator, he had been reprimanded more than once for his tactics in extracting information. As long as the bad men were punished and the good people saved, he was reputed not to care if the means justified the ends.
He was not the kind of man one wanted to be noticed by.
But then neither was Noble. For all that Dresden looked like he wanted to toss them in the nearest cell for just existing below his moral code, Noble was far more dangerous in other ways.
He abruptly cocked his head.
“What are you doing?” she asked.
“I thought I heard something.” He shook his head. “As to what arewedoing, I do remember saying something about what position you might find yourself in at the end of the night.”
Tingles on top of her skin overlapped the increased pace of her heart beneath.
One long finger touched her cheek. “Over a pub table? Up against an alley wall? In a carriage, the windows open, the wind blowing through as we race down the streets and you ride me to the end?”
She swallowed, then swallowed again.
“Yes, I think I like all of those images. I can see your head thrown back and that long, smooth neck exposed to me in all of them.” His finger trailed down the side of her throat. “Your eyes are becoming even more smoky and sensual, Marietta. From the inside out now, rather than the outside in. Shall we see what happens when the knowledge blooming there becomes a large petaled rose?”
A muffled cry shook the night and he pulled her behind him. The sound seemed to be emanating from a darkened street. With her still behind him, flat to his back, he walked forward. It wasn’t until they came to a connecting alley that they saw who had made the sound.
