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Grace’s face turned blank. “You know I am not about to betray her confidence.”

“I am not asking you to tell me who she is, just what she wanted.”

“Do you think me a fool?” Grace narrowed her eyes at him. “Do you expect me to believe that you don’t know who she is? And even if you don’t, that you do not have a plan in place to figure it out? No. The answer is no.”

“Come, now, Grace.” Ian let out a chuckle. “How is that any different from what you already do for me?”

She straightened her spine even more. “It is different. She is an innocent.”

Ian scoffed.

“Perhaps there is no such thing for you, but there is for me. I have integrity.”

“And I don’t?”

She gave him a blank stare. “You tell me.”

“Fine,” Ian bit out. “Don’t tell me why she came here. But tell me this, did she get what she came for?”

Grace swallowed and paused, watching him carefully. “No.”

No. A feeling of elation filled Ian from the inside.

There weren’t many things that women came here for. They either needed a lover, they wanted to learn new things, or they wanted to teach their lovers a thing or two.

There was also a possibility that they were seeking a lover for someone else. Either way, all of these possibilities boded well for Ian. If he wanted to get close to Mrs. St. John, he could exploit this desire of hers. And the fact that she didn’t get what she wanted only played into his scheme.

He didn’t know why she’d left without receiving the services, but perhaps Ian could persuade her to use him instead.

Chapter 8

Ian knocked on the door of the St. Johns’ residence.

He’d learned a few days ago that Viscount St. John had left London on business and after his discoveries in the brothel the night before, he was not about to waste any time.

If he was going to seduce Mrs. St. John, learn everything about the viscount, and bring the Shadows to justice, he had to do it now.

St. John had left his women unprotected. Vulnerable. And Ian was not going to pass up that opportunity.

He expected the butler to open the door, but instead, the door swung open and Mrs. Helen St. John appeared on the threshold.

Warmth unfurled inside him, and an involuntary smile appeared on his face. Or perhaps it wasn’t as involuntary as he thought. He needed to charm this woman, after all.

Ian bowed low. “Good day, Mrs. St. John.”

“My lord.” She executed a perfect curtsy while her surprised eyes never left his face. She looked baffled. She licked her lips and opened the door wider. “Do come in. But if you are here to see Ja—pardon, the viscount—I am sorry to disappoint, but he is not at home.”

She corrected her mistake swiftly but Ian still noticed.

So, she was on a first-name basis with the viscount, which meant they were very close. Good. It would only play to Ian’s advantage.

“I am not here to see him.” He tried to look sheepish. “In fact, I am here to see you.”

She blinked up at him, her befuddlement only growing. “To see me?”

He nodded. “Indeed. I know I am not the most welcome company for a young lady at the moment, so please, feel free to show me the door”—he looked around, still standing on the doorstep—“or rather the street. I shall not be offended in the least. But after our brief interaction the other night… I… um… I just… I wanted to extend our acquaintance.”

“You did?” She seemed unable to come up with unique sentences. He definitely robbed her of the power of intelligent speech.