Page 60 of Thief Taker

Elias smiled but didn’t answer.

Kit’s eyes narrowed, scrutinising. “I’m not the sort of man who sends another to fight his battles, Cole.”

“Not even when the other is better suited to the fight?”

“He may think he is,” Kit said. “But you don’t know everything about me. I may say that you don’t know much at all.”

Elias acknowledged that with a slight bow. “On that front, at least, we’re equals.”

Kit studied him in silence for a long, long moment. Then he said, “I’ll dress now. You don’t need to stay unless you…wish to.”

He did wish to. He’d like to trace his fingers along that gunpowder-black tattoo, across warm damp skin, and ask who those inked initials belonged to, and what they meant. He’d like to say, Tell me everything I don’t know about you, Kit.

Which was why he said “Best if I don’t” and moved back into the bedroom, busying himself opening the heavy curtains to let in the dawn.

When Kit appeared at last, he was barefoot in breeches and shirt, his waistcoat undone and coat and neckcloth over his arm. His hair, rubbed dry with a towel, stuck up all over the place. If Elias hadn’t known better, he’d have thought Kit was doing this on purpose.

“I’ve been thinking,” Kit said. “If I take the disentailment now, the solicitor won’t give James the deeds to Ashbourne. Without a stake, he can’t take part in Le Grand Jeu. He won’t be able to risk Ashbourne at all.”

“It will make your brother desperate,” Elias warned, although that would suit him very well. If Rowsley were desperate, he may make a mistake.

“I know,” Kit said and rolled his shoulders.

He moved like a man tired and sore, much as Elias felt after his scrap with Wessex. He’d like to see how Rowsley fared this morning, that was for sure.

Kit went on, “And I know I may be putting him in danger, but… What else can I do?” He began fumbling awkwardly with the fiddly buttons on his waistcoat.

Elias was stupidly charmed by the sight and crossed the room to help. Nudging Kit’s bruised fingers out of the way, he reached for the first button. “Nothing,” he said, “you’re doing what you must. You’re the only innocent one involved in this mess.”

His cheeks coloured and he frowned. “We both know that’s not true.”

“Come on, none of that,” Elias said, looking up. “What we did last night was no crime.”

Kit’s eyebrows rose in surprise. “In fact, it most certainly was—”

“All right,” Elias cut in. “But it was no sin. Not to my way of thinking, anyway.”

A slight smile tugged Kit’s lips. “Nor mine, as it happens.”

“Well, then.” Elias went back to the fiddly waistcoat buttons to keep his hands out of trouble. “We didn’t have much luck last time we made an attempt on Salter’s.”

“I’m sure we can do better.”

“Aye, I suppose we could.” Elias couldn’t help smiling at the glint in Kit’s eyes; he enjoyed this more than he’d admit.

“It will require some planning, naturally.”

“And some research.” Elias finished with the buttons, took the neckcloth from Kit’s arm and looped it around his neck. Kit lifted his chin to give him access and Elias’s stomach gave a treacherous flutter; he’d kissed that jaw, right there. He wanted to do it again.

“The place is secure,” Kit said. “I tried to get in yesterday…”

Elias cleared his throat, focusing on the knot he was tying. “There’s no getting in through the front door, as you found out. We’ll need to break in. And if there’s a strongbox, we’ll need a key. That complicates matters.”

“Yes.”

It occurred to Elias that Rowsley may well keep all his ill-gotten goods at Salter’s; it would be safer than keeping them at Curzon Street, where they might be discovered. In fact, it made a great deal of sense.

He looked up and said, “We should—” But Kit was looking right at him, like he’d been caught staring. When he swallowed, his throat moved against Elias’s fingers. Dropping his gaze to his hands, Elias finished the knot and took a step back. “I’ll ask around,” he said. “See what I can find out about the place.”