Page 4 of An Unwilling Earl
“It is.” There was a pinched look around Lady Morris’s mouth. Jacob sensed disapproval. Of him or of Miss Morris?
He put the sketch down and folded his hands again. “I’m sorry, Lady Morris, but I’m not in the business of finding people. Perhaps a person employed in private investigatory work would better suit your needs.”
“I want you, Mr. Baker.”
Jacob’s irritation flared, but he tamped it down. “I’m a solicitor, my lady, not a private investigator.”
“I will pay you well.”
Jacob took a deep breath for patience. “It’s not about the money. It’s about my time, and it’s about my current obligations.”
Obligations that had now taken a severe right turn.
Lady Morris flicked the edge of the drawing with a long, yellowed fingernail. “My niece is missing. I need to find her. Surely you can understand my concern.”
Not really. Probably because he did not see concern coming from her. He thought that maybe she negotiated with the fishmonger with more passion than she was conducting this interview.
“Has she been kidnapped? Taken against her will?”
“I don’t believe so. No.”
“Run off with a lover?”
She scoffed. “Hardly.”
“Miss Morris simply walked away and never came back?” He hardly blamed the girl if she’d been forced to live with this woman.
“I don’t know what happened to her, Mr. Baker. That is why I am here to hire you.”
“You cannothireme when my services are not for sale.”
She pressed her lips together, and deep lines gathered around them. “Name your price.”
She was truly something, wasn’t she? To people like her, people like him always had a price.
“Why me?” he asked. “Surely, a woman with a strong constitution like yourself would have done your research, and you would know that this type of work is not what I do.”
“Ihavedone my research, and you came highly recommended from Sir John Lewis.”
Jacob paused. Sir John Lewis was a meticulous barrister, well respected, with a fine reputation in the law community. Jacob had worked with him on several cases, and he felt a touch of warmth that Lewis would recommend him for anything. But how in the world did Lewis know this woman?
“He was an acquaintance of my late husband’s,” she said, as if reading his thoughts. “He said you would be the best person to help me.”
Jacob didn’t want to turn down anything that had John Lewis’s name attached to it, but he felt uneasy about this woman.
“What doyouthink happened to Miss Morris?” he asked, glancing at the sketch again.
Those eyes.
“I don’t know.”
He thought of the women pulled from the Thames, sans head and hands.
“There have been…” He cleared his throat. “Some unfortunate events these past few weeks. Women found—”
“The dead women. I know what you’re speaking of. And you think my niece could be a victim?”
He’d been reluctant to broach the subject for fear of frightening her. He should not have been. This woman had to be made from steel. Or she was curiously without any compassion or feeling, for her question indicated interest, not concern or horror.
