Three Nights of Sin by Anne Mallory

“Or frightened.”
    “Who was the first victim?”
    “Mrs. Amanda Sinclair.”
    Marietta thought the name sounded vaguely familiar. “The Sinclairs? Weren’t they just married? It was sudden? Banns barely read in Herefordshire, was it? She was someone from the countryside returned to London?”
    “Sounds right. Part of the investigation took place in Herefordshire.”
    Noble was looking over a paper on Anthony’s desk. “Perhaps the link is there. What was her previous name?”
    Anthony shook his head. “Easy enough to find out, but I don’t know off the top of my head. I’ll send a post when I find it.”
    “Arthur Dresden still assigned to the case?”
    Anthony grimaced. “Yes.”
    “I’ve not had the pleasure of meeting him yet, though his reputation precedes him.”
    “Even as the newest Runner, he has wreaked havoc in the ranks. Hungry. Be careful of him, he doesn’t get on well with the patrollers or watch. Thinks they are useless.”
    “Sometimes they are, but it’s never a good idea to let them know you think that.”
    “Which tells you something about Dresden.”
    “Indeed.”
    Noble rose and Marietta rose with him. “Thank you, Anthony. Consider this and the victim’s name as first payment.”
    Anthony nodded. “Good luck to you, Miss Winters. I’m sure that Mr. Noble will have your brother out of jail in no time.”
    Marietta gaped at him. Noble took hold of her elbow and guided her into the hall. He dropped his hand, but she could still feel the imprint.
    “How did he know?”
    “Anthony is smart. And you weren’t being particularly coy. Come.”
    “You did something for him?”
    “Yes.”
    “Your favors don’t seem that bad.”
    A slow smile spread over his face. “I’m glad you don’t think so. But Marietta…” He leaned toward her and smoothed a lock of hair behind her ear, leaving tingles everywhere he brushed. “You have no idea what I have in store for you.”

Chapter 7
    M arietta moaned. She should have been sick of eating soups and stews, but they were so good .
    There was a knock on the front door, and since Noble looked disinclined to answer it, she did. A young boy stood on the stoop. “Message for Marietta.”
    Odd that he used her first name, but she appreciated the discretion more than she could express. The last thing she needed was for someone to identify her as living here. She took the sealed paper and rooted in her hanging pocket for a coin, handing it to the boy. He tipped his hat and she closed the door.
    She ran a finger over the long sloped handwriting and the eagle seal. She sat at the table to read her brother’s note, a tingle of guilt running through her that Mark was in worse straits at the moment—not enjoying delicious food, fending off the crowds. She’d sent him fifty pounds along with her address, hoping he would use the money for food. Knowing that soon she would have to let him know that the remainingtwo hundred fifty was back in their accounts. She was afraid he’d squander it before they could use it to repay their debts.
    Two lines were scrawled on the page. They were moving Kenny’s trial up and the barrister’s office had been cleaned out with no forwarding address.
    She tapped a finger against the paper.
    “What is it?” Noble continued writing and didn’t look up.
    She read him the note. He paused, his pen hovering above his parchment.
    “I see that Tannett took my advice. Good. As to your brother—your younger brother—we will need to see if we can hold off the trial.”
    “How?”
    He went back to writing. “I know who to ask. He’s holding a masquerade tonight. He loves his masquerades, the more debaucherous, the better. You will need to be dressed appropriately.”
    He looked up, green eyes surveying her. “Do you have a domino or a mask?”
    She clutched the note. “I do, but nothing risqué like you are suggesting.”
    He waved a hand and went back to his page. “One of the tavern outfits will be more than