Page 86 of Thief Taker

And perhaps he was right; perhaps the time for talking was past. All that remained was action. “Then go to bed, Jamie, your part in this is done.” Kit paused. “But know this: I will have justice. Even if I must deliver it by my own hand.”

“Kit, you can’t—”

“I know what I can do,” he said. “Now go to bed. Leave this to me.”

Without sparing his brother another look, Kit strode to the door. Elias fell into step behind him, and together they went out into the cold shadows of the hall.

Chapter 30

Kit’s composure dissolved with each step as he climbed the stairs to his rooms. By the time Elias closed the door behind them, Kit’s whole body was alive with fury.

“God damn the man!” he spat. “How dare he cheat us out of our land before my eyes? Salter knew I’d spotted him. He didn’t give a damn. And Marlborough!”

“God rot that cold-blooded bastard.”

A grim smile touched Kit’s lips, then fell away. “This house will have to be sold too, if I can’t undo this mess. We wouldn’t be able to afford it with no income from the estate, and the staff…” His outrage dissolved into distress. “How will I ever tell the staff?”

“I’m sorry,” Elias said, moving closer. “It’s hard.”

“Tobin’s been with the family for decades…” He swallowed, eyes suddenly over-bright.

“I swear to God, Kit, we’ll make Marlborough pay.” He took Kit by the shoulders. “If not for this, then for what he did to Hawker.”

But Kit shook his head. “No, James is right. The law can’t touch Marlborough.”

“It can,” Elias insisted. “I just need enough evidence to take to the—” He stopped, breathing through a flare of alarm; he’d almost said too much.

And, God, how he wanted to.

Suddenly, he wanted Kit to know everything: who he was, what he was, how he could bring Marlborough to justice. What was the point of hiding it any longer? He tightened his grip on Kit’s arms. “Kit,” he said, the confession eager on his tongue. “Kit, what if I told you—”

Someone knocked on the door, then turned the handle. They sprang apart.

Elias pushed his hands through his hair and faced the opening door. Behind him he heard Kit walk away.

A weary looking footman appeared to ask whether Mr. Duvall wanted a late supper. Elias glanced once at where Kit now stood by the fireplace, head bowed and arms braced on the mantel. He’d not eaten all evening, and he certainly wouldn’t be sleeping any time soon.

“Mr. Duvall will dine in his rooms,” Elias told the footman. “A cold supper, whatever is left from this evening will do well. I’ll ring when it’s wanted.”

Since Kit didn’t contradict him, the footman just nodded. “Very well, Mr. Cole.”

When he was gone, Elias only hesitated for a moment before turning the key in the lock. But he stood with his hand on the door for some time after, pondering what he’d been about to confess when they’d been interrupted. Would it be a mistake?

Kit had the weight of the world on his shoulders and Elias couldn’t risk adding to it. Not yet. The time would come for the truth, but it wasn’t tonight.

Instead, he walked over to where Kit stood with his hands braced on the mantelpiece, staring down into the fire. No words came to mind in lieu of the confession, and no expression of sympathy that didn’t sound trite. The man had lost everything, what was there to say? What could he offer except the feeling beating hard against his ribs?

Reaching out, Elias pressed his palm between Kit’s shoulder blades and felt his deep breath in response. It was almost a sigh. He slid his hand up, fingers curling over Kit’s shoulder, and let his thumb stroke the back of Kit’s neck, through the soft curls of his hair. And then he slipped his fingers under the lapel of his evening coat, ready to take it off.

Kit stilled. His shoulders rose and fell under Elias’s hands and then he let go of the mantelpiece and dropped his arms to his side. Elias slipped the coat off and discarded it on the floor. Then he stepped closer, put his arms around Kit’s waist and pulled him back against his chest, into his arms. He nuzzled his hair, placed a kiss behind his ear, and smiled at Kit’s sigh of relief. Lifting his hands to Kit’s neckcloth, Elias slipped the knot and pulled the linen free. When Kit’s shirt fell open, Elias pressed his lips to the warm skin of his shoulder, tugged the shirt wider to breathe wordless comfort against his collarbone.

Tonight, this was the best truth he could offer.

Kit cupped a hand to his face, fingers threading into his hair. “I’m glad you’re here,” he murmured.

“So am I.”

This was new, all of it. No simple tumble, this was something more. It touched deeper. Somehow both more powerful and fragile.