“I had to.” Frederick jabbed a finger in his direction. “If I didn’t prove to Drucilla that I could be a good husband—the husband she needed—she’d have chosen Stoudmire. He’s the one her brother wanted. He could more than afford to both pay the debt and fund her charities, without needing to prove his money wasn’ttainted. He has good blood—a father and brother with titles. All I have isyou.” He near spit the word, resentment dripping from his lips. “Perhaps if you had converted, spent more time learning how to behave properly instead of wallowing even further in the habits of your mother, I might have trusted you to help. But it was clear I couldn’t.”
He crossed his arms. “And what I did? Was it so wrong? Stoudmire is still alive. But if not for his absence, Penrose would have thwarted me.”
“I don’t doubt that.” Or more, the man had said as much. Which made the fact that the banns had already been posted at the time of their chat rather convenient, at least for Sol, as it had bound the viscount to their side. “Trouble is, what you did was still a crime. One you could be imprisoned for. Or worse.”
“Every person I hired can be controlled. Easily,” his brother said with a coldness that he’d never heard before. Or never paid enough attention to notice. “If not, there are other ways. I have enough information on each of them that if one was to point the authorities in the proper direction… well, they’d regret it.”
Sol gaped at his brother. “You may not think highly of the people you hired, but they’re still people. No worse than either of us. Or Penrose or Drucilla. I thought you still knew that, still understood that.” At least he’d hoped so, deep down. That even with all the rest, his brother was at least a shadow of the man he’d believed him to be.
“It’s not—I wasn’t the one who told them to commit their crimes—without me, they were always two steps away from a hang—it’s different. They always knew the—” His brother lifted his chin. “There are some people the world is better off without.”
And it took everything in him not to take a swing at the man Sol had loved with all his heart. Instead, Sol willed matching ice into his gaze and tone. “Like me, apparently.”
“I had no choice. You insisted on staying with those… people… ones who can only hold us back. Then I needed the trust in full. More thanyouever did.” His brother leaned back against his chair, knitting his fingers together. “We’re too far apart now, Solomon. We can no longer understand each other. And thus, to save what we had, I thought it might be better if we ended things with only good memories.”
Sol stared at his brother a long moment, trying to comprehend what he had heard. He thought he might be sick again, but no, it was merely his heart that hurt. He shook his head in disappointment.
“I’ll always love you, Frederick, but I think you’re wrong. I understand you perfectly. It took me a long time to get here, but it’s all clear now.” He shrugged. “Oddly enough, everything about you has been clear to Penrose for a while.”
“The viscount?” His brother’s eyes grew wide at the mention of his brother-in-law. He leaned forward in his seat. “What have you done? What did you tell him?” The mirrors surrounding them reflected Frederick’s horror tenfold. Rage flew over his countenance and he stood, leaning over the desk. “This is why I never trusted you. You’re not smart enough to understand all the consequences your—”
“Funny that,” Sol said. “Most people seem to think I understand things just fine.” He shrugged then relaxed back in his chair as if he hadn’t a care in the world.
“And my recent plans have served me, my health,and the health of those I love a great deal better than anything you’ve done in quite a while.” He lifted his chin. “As for Penrose, I didn’t tell him anything he didn’t already know. I merely paid him a visit.”
Sol leaned forward again. “You see, I was, well, I had denied the truth for quite a while, but he had not. While I loved you—still love you, for that matter—he also loves his sister very much and paid close attention to her situation. In the past and now. He has quite a lot of information. Enough to either protect you or, if necessary, force you to hang.”
“Not without the others,” Frederick sputtered. “Including the little criminal that you can’t seem to stop fucking. If I hang, so does she.” He glared at Sol. “I will point to her as my accomplice in the attack on Stoudmire.”
He paused then cocked his head and retook his seat. “Though, considering your behavior today, perhaps I’ll just take care of her now. I have information already on a little burglary she assisted in recently. The Crown would love to settle the grumbling in the streets with a good hanging. Especially of the worst sort of Jew. The ones you all would’ve gotten rid of yourself, if you were truly civilized.”
Sol closed his eyes, hating how much his brother was proving right every terrible possibility Roger Berab had raised when he’d gone to him for advice before his discussion with Penrose.
“We anticipated you might say that.” Sol forced his voice and body to hold steady. “And while it’s true that the viscount doesn’t care very much about what happens to Hannah, I do. So I struck a bargain with him that, in the end, benefits both of you. Ties your fates together even tighter, actually.”
“What?” His brother whipped off his spectacles and stared at him. “What did you do?”
Saved us all.Not that his brother would truly see it that way, but perhaps in time. Sol’s ribs ached. No, he couldn’t—he just had to keep going.
“You’re going to do whatever Penrose says, Frederick, which means staying out of trouble—including no more attempts on anyone’s life. Perhaps you’ll start with a long honeymoon on the Continent.” He raised a single finger. “However, if you do break your word, he’ll see that you’re dealt with as he sees fit. And as you know, the gentry has many ways to take care of dangerous relatives without involving the law, so I’d watch your step.”
“And that’s that?” his brother asked, squinting.
“Not quite. That was the original offer. And while I liked the viscount’s plan, I didn’t think it adequately protected Hannah.” He shifted his ankle. Mercy, he was really going to need to be careful as that healed. “Both you and I are going to be selling the bank.”
Frederick blinked at him.
“Don’t worry, it’s for a fair price. And it’s not as if you’ll need the income. Lady Drucilla’s family will see that you both are cared for and live in a lifestyle that suits her. The initial proceeds will pay off her remaining debts and then be used to make sure neither Stoudmire’s family nor anyone on the street ever speaks of this matter again. The victim of that burglary you keep using as a threat will also be made whole in exchange for his agreement to never prosecute.” He knitted his fingers. “Any leftover proceeds shall go into a trust for your wife’s exclusive benefit.”
His brother opened and closed his mouth, but for thefirst time Sol could remember, appeared to have been rendered speechless.
“In addition, I’m giving you my inheritance—well, I’m giving it to your wife,” Sol continued. “Just as you wanted.” He couldn’t help if the words were a touch bitter. “I can do perfectly fine without it.” Glady and freely. And possibly better than he ever had been before.
Frederick sniffed.
“Even if I can’t, being here, in this world, as you’ve demonstrated, comes at much too high a cost and I shall be happy to be rid of it and the poison it oozes.” He smiled grimly. “This is the money’s best use. After all, giving it to Lady Drucilla is what bought Hannah and her sister’s freedom and protection. So for that I’m quite willing to live only on my salary from the surety company.”
“You won’t last a week without your fancy boots and fine linens and the connections that I bring you,” his brother scoffed.
