“I believe you,” Edwin said.
If there was something he had learned over the years, it was that Magnus was not only influential in the ton, but he was also influential among common circles due to his business.
If there were one man who could unravel the mystery of his attacker, it would certainly be Magnus.
Edwin’s friends had only just left when Ava entered his study, gauze and other dressing materials in hand.
He groaned. “Ava! I promise you, you do not need to change the dressing yet.”
Ava shook her head, an amused look on her face as she set the materials down. “I am afraid I must. And you’d better not resist,” she warned. “Remember, I successfully treated my sister’s wounds right from childhood to their rebellious teenage years.”
Edwin chuckled. “Now, I am absolutely terrified.”
“You should be,” she cautioned as she slowly stepped towards him. “I will not take no for an answer.”
“Fine!” Edwin threw his hands up in surrender.
“You agree?” She paused, looking at him with a mixture of surprise and amusement.
“You seem surprised,” he noted.
“Perhaps because I know you like to put up a fight.”
Edwin laughed. “Perhaps I realized I need not to when I can simply get something out of the arrangement.”
He watched as she leaned back, eyeing him with suspicion.
“Now, what depraved activity have you cooked up this time?” she asked.
Edwin pressed his lips together in a bid to suppress a smile.
“Depraved?” he gasped, trying his best to look hurt. “You have no idea just how much your words wound me.”
“I would have believed that if I thought you capable of feelings,” she jested.
“My proposition is simple; you help me with my writing and I let you dress my hand. You see, there is nothing suspicious going on.”
A small smile crept onto Ava’s lips as she eyed him. “I still do not quite trust you.”
“Why?” He feigned surprise.
“Why would you want me to help you with your writing?” she asked.
Edwin waved his bandaged hand. “You might not have noticed, but I was stabbed in the hand, and as of right now, I simply cannot use my hand.”
“You are far too dramatic,” Ava said, chuckling. “I mean, there are a number of people you could ask to help you with your writing. Your steward, perhaps, or your valet. I am certain they would be more than pleased to assist you. You do not need me.”
Edwin knew she had caught him. However, he was determined not to surrender without a fight.
“I just do not trust any of those men with confidential documents.”
“You do not trust your steward and valet, whom you have known for years, and yet you trust your wife, whom you have known for only a matter of months?”
Edwin shrugged. “You are my wife. If I do not trust my own wife, then who can I trust?”
“Fine,” she relented as she sat on the chair opposite his. “But you must know that I am aware that you have something up your sleeve.”
“Uh… Ava,” he said, “I’m afraid I must point out that your choice of seat is quite inconvenient.”