Page 17 of Thief Taker

“With a solicitor?”

“It was a matter of business.”

“What business can you have with our father, in his condition?”

James’s face, caught in profile, tensed. He swallowed and Kit could see the movement in his throat. Briefly, James glanced down but when he lifted his head, his expression was all defiance. “Entrance to Le Grand Jeu.”

“What the devil is that?”

“The most exclusive game in town.”

Kit stared at his brother. “For God’s sake, James. More gaming? That won’t help—”

“Well, you’re wrong, as ever. It will help. Le Grand Jeu is my chance to win it all back.” James sat forward, a fevered colour rising in his cheeks. “The stakes…” He laughed, unsteady and clearly still foxed. “You can scarcely imagine the stakes. If I win, it will solve all the pressing issues—”

“And if you lose?” Kit said. “What then? What stake will you lose this time? Your soul? There’s nothing else left save Ashbourne, and you can’t…”

He trailed off at the mulish expression on his brother’s face.

Thick silence filled the room. Kit said, stupidly, “You can’t stake Ashbourne in a game.”

“You said it yourself. What else?”

“But you can’t. The estate is entailed. It can’t be staked in a game any more than it could be sold or even given away. You know that.”

James flicked him a sharp, harried glance. “Well, now it can.”

“No!” Kit’s frustration escaped as a laugh; clearly, his brother’s mind was drink-addled. “It can’t, James, legally you have no right. For one thing, Ashbourne Abbey belongs to the earl. And for another, nobody can sell an entailed estate, not even the earl himself. Who on earth told you it was possible? Marlborough, I suppose.”

“All very true, I’m sure, but Ashbourne Abbey is no longer entailed.” He gave a brittle laugh at whatever he saw on Kit’s face. “It transpires that it’s easy to break an entail. Ashbourne is mine—or will be, soon enough—and I’m staking it in Le Grand Jeu.”

Once, in battle, Kit had received a blow to the gut that had driven him to the ground, unable to catch his breath. It had been less stunning than James’s words. “You…” He stumbled, trying to organise his tumbling thoughts. “But how can you break an entail? I’ve never heard of such a thing.”

James shrugged. “A simple legal agreement between the estate owner and his heir is all that’s required.”

“But Father would never agree to such a thing!”

James lifted his chin, all defiance.

Kit’s horror only deepened. “James, no…”

“Father is beyond caring, as you know. I will be the next earl, so what harm is there in bringing forward what is inevitable?”

Kit closed his eyes, sickened to his stomach by this final betrayal. “In health, Father would never agree to this, James. You know he wouldn’t. He could not have known what he was signing.”

“Marlborough’s solicitor explained it to him.”

“And Father could not have understood!”

James, pale-faced, just shrugged.

“For God’s sake!” Kit could hardly believe it. “Five generations of Duvalls have lived on that estate, and you—How could you?”

“Yes, I’m sure all the old ghosts are mortified as they rot. Meanwhile, once I win, our troubles will be over. And there will be plenty to spare for Charlotte to marry that little soldier she’s pining after.”

Kit could only stare. “Don’t you feel any shame?”

“Me?” James laughed, though there was no humour in the sound. “You’re the one who got caught compromising the curate…”