This time Sol did laugh because after everything he’d been through…
“I think I lasted for almost two so far, actually,” he said. “And I’m ready to last a lifetime.” He rose. “Good-bye, Frederick. I wish you and Lady Drucilla well. I do truly want you to be happy—I always did. I regret that I can’t be a part of it, but I do… Take care of your wife, love her, and I’m sure everything will turn out fine.”
Before his brother could say anything more, he marched into the hall, refusing to look back—only to run into Aaron, whose arms were laden with trunks and bags.
“I thought I told you to stay in the foyer,” he said, eyeing the load before grabbing two pieces, only teetering a little at the weight.
“The staff took the liberty of helping me pack up your room,” Aaron said, panting. “Isabelle might pay you decently, but your wardrobe has been an asset to your position, and it would be a shame to leave it behind. I know with the decision you’re making regarding Miss Moses, it’s highly unlikely you’ll ever be made partner—though David was rather impressed with your plan to drum up business from less respectable gentile institutions—”
“Gaming hells need to plan for losses too,” Sol pointed out. “There are fires and fights and who knows when the Crown will change various rules.”
His friend smiled. “My wife does know who to hire. Anyway, since you’ve rented your own home, you might as well have some comforts.”
Which was a very kind thought. And while it didn’t soften the blow of Frederick’s betrayal, it would be nice to hold on to some of his things. Especially as he worked out running a household and budgeting, for the first time ever.
“Fair enough,” Sol said with a nod.
“Ready to leave?” Aaron asked, indicating the front door with his elbow.
Sol glanced around the house he’d lived in all of his life, expecting to feel regret or guilt or sadness, but all he felt was… excited. And hopeful. Provided he figured out what to do about Hannah.
He turned to Aaron and grinned. “Yes. Very much.”
