Page 121 of Thief Taker

“And who started that story?”

James gave a slight smile. “They also say he was discovered to be working illicitly to manipulate parliament for the benefit of his trading interests. I understand Bow Street paid a visit to his solicitor…”

“I heard something about that,” Kit confessed. Whether anything would come of the discovery, Groves hadn’t known. Elias had been doubtful.

“I won’t pretend to grieve him,” James said.

“Nor I.” Kit examined his brother’s face. There was something there that James was not saying. Relief, certainly, but something more complicated lay beneath it. Kit understood; he had his own complicated feelings about Marlborough’s downfall.

Briefly, he considered confessing his part in it, telling James about Wessex and everything he’d done to keep the family from ruin. But he dismissed the idea immediately. It risked implicating Elias, and Kit didn’t trust his brother enough to do that.

“I’m not here to scold you,” he said instead. “I’m here to tell you that I’m sorry. For leaving when I did and for staying away so long. You’re my brother and you deserved better from me than that.” He rose from the chair. “That’s all.”

James didn’t turn from the window, but his throat moved. “What about Ashbourne?”

“Ashbourne is safe for now,” Kit said, weighing how much to reveal. “The deeds are in Charlotte’s keeping.”

James looked at him with the quick understanding he’d had as a boy. It heartened Kit to see it again. “Do you care to explain how that can be?”

“Some questions, Jamie, are better left unasked.”

“And unanswered, it seems.” He glanced at the window. “I see Mr. Cole has not deserted you. Had he a hand in this?”

Kit bristled. “Cole is not—”

“Calm yourself,” James said, hands raised to pacify. “I’ve no interest in your domestic arrangements.” A slight, rueful smile curved his lips. “If anything, I am envious. I wish you happy.”

Kit’s throat tightened with a confusion of feeling. “As I do you,” he said, and took a step forward. “To that end, Jamie, I have a request of you.”

“And what’s that?”

“Stop gaming. Stop drinking.” It came out more gently than he’d intended. “Leave London for a time—visit Charlotte, perhaps. Make what amends you can.” His brother’s gaunt face and shadowed eyes stirred the old, complicated grief of loving someone bent on their own destruction. “You look dreadful, James.”

“Thank you. You always did have a gift for the tender word.”

“I mean it.”

“I know you do.” Something moved in James’s expression, unexpected and unguarded. “Kindness was always your particular cruelty.”

Not sure how to respond, Kit simply put a hand on his brother’s shoulder. James went still beneath his touch, neither pulling away nor leaning into it. “I’ll be absent from society for a time,” Kit said. “If anyone asks, I’m attending to business at Ashbourne.”

James scrutinised him with those clever, wary eyes. “And where will you actually be?”

Kit took a slip of paper from his coat pocket and set it on the table by the fire. “If you need me, send a note care of this address.”

James read, his eyebrows rising. “The Brown Bear on Bow Street?”

“It will reach me.” He squeezed James’s shoulder once before letting go. “You’re not alone, Jamie. I want you to understand that. I will help you and our family as best I can, but I can’t—I choose not to live in society any longer. I cannot stay and be happy.”

James almost smiled. “That,” he said feelingly, “I perfectly understand. The bon ton thrives on the misery of others.”

For a long moment, Kit considered his brother. He took in the line of his shoulders, the dark curl of his hair, the too-clever eyes, and Kit’s tangle of anger, pity, and affection shifted into something simpler. Not forgiveness, exactly, but his heart felt lighter than it had been.

“Take care of yourself, Jamie.”

With a silent nod on each side, they parted. Kit closed the library door behind him and found Tobin waiting in the hall with his hat.

“I hope we’ll be seeing you again soon, sir.”