Page 4 of Thief Taker

He was right of course, which was all the more irritating. Slipping his finger beneath the seal, he opened the letter and unfolded the paper. There were a few short lines from his sister, written in a hurried hand.

My dear Kit, she wrote, I write to beg you to act. James has been here today.

“The devil?” Kit said, glancing up at Hartwell. “My brother has been down to Ashbourne.”

Hartwell made no reply, just cocked an eyebrow. Kit read on.

James came with two men; one I believe was a London solicitor. They were locked up with Father, in his bed chamber, for almost an hour. I do not know what was said, or what was done; I was obliged to wait downstairs. But they left Father very distressed.

Of course, James would not tell me what happened in that room. He looked wild, though. And it will not surprise you to learn that he had been drinking, even though the hour was early. The men with him were sober as a pair of judges, however, and well satisfied.

Oh, Kit, I wish you had been here! I’m afraid, very afraid, that something terrible has occurred. Poor Father has been very confused since the visit, and I can get no sense from him at all. Indeed, he scarcely knows who I am today.

My heart yearns for you to come home, but I do not ask it. Instead, I beg that you would find James. I understand from something his companion said that he is in London. Please, Kit, make him tell you what he has done. I hardly know how he can have made things worse, but these recent years have taught me that it is always possible.

I remain your affectionate sister, Lottie.

Kit dropped the letter onto the table, letting it come to rest against Hartwell’s glass.

“Bad?” Hartwell said, mildly.

“Read it.” Kit pushed the letter closer. “I don’t know what it means.”

Snatching up the letter, Hartwell read it quickly. He said, “I think it means you need to pay a visit to your brother.”

“He—I doubt he’d see me.”

Hartwell’s gaze flickered away. “He loved you once, didn’t he?”

“I thought so.”

“Then surely he’ll listen. What do you have to lose by trying?”

Kit smiled grimly. “Only the last shreds of my pride.”

They were silent for a time, listening to the soft hiss of the fire and the low conversations from the inn seeping past the door. He and James had been close, once—before Kit left for the colonies. Before James threw it all away, before he destroyed everything.

“Sometimes,” Hartwell said softly, “pride’s the very devil, Kit.”

He looked at him, but Hartwell was lost in thought. Of his own brother, perhaps, and of all that had been taken from him. But he was right; what was Kit’s pride against the future of his family?

With a sigh, he said, “If James is in London, he’s likely staying at our town house. But going back to Curzon Street…” His stomach turned at the prospect.

“It might have some advantages.” Hartwell sat forward. “You’ll know better the movements of the men in your brother’s set if you’re there. It could help us.”

There was truth in that, though Kit didn’t want to admit it. The fact was that he dreaded returning to that world. He sighed. “You’re right, I could keep a closer eye on his comings and goings. But, Lord, it means… society.”

Hartwell snorted. “You truly were born to be a farmer.”

“I was.” He smiled, but only to hide a sharp pang of loss. “And I intend to be one, now the war’s over. As soon as I’ve dealt with this business, I’m going back to New York.”

Lips pressed tight, Hartwell nodded and reached for his whiskey.

Kit winced at his own clumsiness. Exiled from the land of his birth and estranged from his family, Hartwell had found refuge in London, but it would never be home. Feeling like a fool, Kit started to fumble an apology. “Ned, I’m sorry, that was—”

“I heard Osborne’s coming to town this week,” Hartwell said, firmly changing the subject. “He always carries plenty of cash when he’s intent on gaming.”

Kit took the hint and let the subject drop. Besides, that was good news. Gideon Osborne was one of his brother’s set, a baronet with a penchant for London’s gentlemen’s clubs and money to burn—much of it once owned by Kit’s family. “It would be a pleasure to reclaim some of our fortune from Sir Gideon. But it’ll be risky to ride out again so soon, especially with Bow Street on my heels.”