“By betraying the Crown?”
“By ceasing to bleed for men like you, men who would let me serve beside them, but never stand among them.” Satisfaction hardened Henry’s expression. “The Circle had trusted me with the name Sentinel, but they would not tolerate a divided allegiance. I had to sever my old life. And when it came time to disappear, you made it almost laughably easy. Grief and loyalty told you what to see.”
James absorbed the words like a blow. “You used what we were against me.”
“You thought friendship made us equals. It never did. You could afford recklessness because the world would always catch you.”
Henry’s contempt ran so deep that James doubted every memory of their friendship. Had any of it been real? Every shared confidence turned to ash. James had trusted this man once. He would not make that mistake again. Every old loyalty died the moment Henry threatened Kate.
“And now you have trained the Circle on me? On Kate?”
“I kept your name out of places where it would have meant your death. For old times’ sake.” His mouth curved without warmth. “Do not mistake me. Once you began asking after The Sentinel, I considered giving them your name. It would have been simple. But you were mine to deal with.”
A humorless laugh scraped from James’s throat. “How generous of you.”
“I meant to leave you alone, James. Truly. I thought guilt would be punishment enough.” Henry drew Kate back a fraction, keeping her between them. Her shoulder struck his chest, and she flinched.
Henry barely noticed. “For a time, it was. You were reckless, angry, half blind. But then you found your footing. Westmarch gave you a second chance. Society still bowed to Lord Brenton.” His arm tightened across Kate’s shoulders. “And then you found her.”
The loyalty he once had toward his friend collapsed, leaving behind a ruthless void. This was not some distant danger he had failed to keep Kate from. This was his past, his guilt, his mistake, standing with a pistol pressed to her side.
“Once she came into your life, you became useful again.” Henry’s voice cooled. “I hoped fear might persuade her to drag you away from the trail. Instead, she led you deeper.”
Kate strained against the arm that bound her, fury alive in her face. The sight of her struggling in Henry’s grip, the knowledge that he had been following her, cut through what remained of James’s shock. Henry had not merely betrayed him. He had put his hands on Kate.
“So you took her,” James said, each word held tightly.
“I took what would bring you to me.”
Henry locked his arm across Kate’s shoulders. James advanced one careful step.
“Release her. Now.”
“Always giving orders as though the world was built to obey you.”
“This is between us.”
“No.” Henry’s voice hardened. “That is what you have never understood. Men like you make the world, then call it neutral ground.”
The barrel pressed closer to Kate’s side. James noted the pale line of her throat above Henry’s arm, the defiance in her face, and the sliver of space between Henry’s finger and the trigger.
“You wanted me here,” James said. “You have me.”
“Oh, I do not merely want you here.” Henry’s mouth twisted. “I want you brought low. I want her to watch the great Lord Brenton broken for once.”
The lantern flame shivered, throwing Henry’s silhouette across the covered furniture, creating the illusion of a room crowded with ghosts.
“Put it down,” Henry said, “or I shoot her first.”
James did not move as he calculated every desperate possibility.
Henry’s voice dropped. “No title. No friends. No pistol. Let her watch what happens when Lord Brenton has nothing to hide behind.”
James lowered the pistol by inches, set it on the floor, and nudged it away with his boot. If Henry wanted to prove himself with his fists, James would let him. Anything that moved the barrel away from Kate was worth the risk.
Henry’s expression darkened with satisfaction. “Fight me, James. Let her watch.”
“Still need an audience to feel brave?” James asked.
