Page 91 of Thief Taker

“Go on.”

“Lord Marlborough will be on the road tonight, carrying something that I believe Wessex wants above all else.”

Groves frowned. “And how do you know that?”

“I have my sources.” Sources he didn’t plan to divulge—not while he was still wearing Kit’s shirt next to his skin. “Marlborough is travelling to Ashbourne Abbey, so he’ll be on the Bath Road crossing Hounslow Heath. If Wessex is who I believe him to be, he’ll stop him tonight and take what he needs.”

Groves frowned. “And your suggestion is what?”

“That we follow Marlborough. If Wessex stops him, we get the bastard tonight. If he doesn’t, then the investigation continues.”

Groves sank deeper into his coat. “Is Rowsley your man, then?”

“He is, yes,” Elias said. “He’s reason enough to rob, though his brother believes it impossible.”

“His brother believes it impossible?” Groves cocked his head. “You’ve discussed this with Duvall?”

Face warming, Elias hoped any flush would be mistaken for the cold. “In a manner of speaking. He told me Rowsley’s no horseman, that he despises riding and hunting. And that he’s not a violent man—though he has enough other vices. From what I’ve seen of Rowsley, I agree. He’s rarely sober enough to stay on a horse.”

“A brother’s assurance is hardly compelling,” Groves said. “Duvall will be protecting him.”

“I know. And a brother’s love can blind a man to the truth. But if Rowsley stops Marlborough’s coach tonight, we’ll know.”

As would Kit.

Groves’s eyes narrowed suspiciously. “What does Duvall know of this plan? How much have you told him?”

“Nothing.” Though he’d got close to it and was glad now that he hadn’t. From this point, the matter was in his hands and his alone. “That’s why we’re meeting here before God’s opened his eyes. I can’t risk Duvall growing suspicious in case he’s—” He stopped before he could finish the thought; the very idea turned him cold.

Groves peered at him from under the brim of his hat. He was no fool. “If it’s not Rowsley, you think it could be the brother.”

“No.” His head swam and he made himself take a breath. “Not really, but he does—Well, tonight will test the theory.”

“And the prospect troubles you.”

Elias forced a smile. “Not at all, but I’m keen to be done with this business.” He pushed his hands into his pockets. “See about getting a coach, will you? And then we’ll have him, Groves. Wessex himself.”

For a moment, Groves thought. Then he took a decisive breath. “Very well,” he said. “I’ll see about the coach.”

“Make it a fast one,” Elias added. “Once we’re out on the heath…”

Groves gave a wry smile. “Concerned about highwaymen?”

“I’m concerned he’ll escape. Hounslow Heath is Wessex’s ground. If he bolts, we’ll lose him.”

“It won’t come to that. We Bow Street men are no amateurs, you know.”

Elias thought back to the raid on The Red Lion, of Wessex’s easy escape from Groves’s men. “Just make sure you get that coach. Because, one way or another, I intend to end this tonight.”

All of it.

If Rowsley were implicated, there would be no forgiveness from Kit. Elias understood that. But still, he had no choice—both duty and self-interest required him to act.

What he felt for Kit could only ever be fleeting; that was the nature of these things between men. There was no future that didn’t end in heartache, ruin, or the pillory. And he’d be a bloody fool to lose his share of three hundred pounds because of some soft feeling for a man.

He was Elias Cole, thief taker, and that had not changed. It could not change. Wessex was his prey and he would take him no matter what the consequences.

And if Kit were implicated? That thought ended in nothing but darkness.