Page 97 of Thief Taker

“If I told Duvall that James had been hurt, he’d—” His words choked off, mouth dry, his heart rebelling against using Kit like that even when his head knew it was necessary. He cleared his throat. “He’d go. If he thought his brother was hurt, he’d go.”

Footsteps behind them and Elias turned. It was one of Marlborough’s footmen, looking shaken from the night’s encounter. “Lord Marlborough wants a word,” he said, darting a look between them. “With whichever one of you two is in charge.”

Groves shared a glance with Elias, then said, “That would be me, son.”

“This way, then, sir.” The footman began to lead the way, but Elias stopped him with a hand on his arm.

“Where will you stay tonight?” Marlborough may not be Wessex, but Elias knew what he was even so. And what he carried.

“We was meant to be stopping the night in Slough, sir,” the footman said. “But Jennings says the coach ain’t right—one of the wheel axles is bent, or something—and he wants to go back to Hounslow for repairs.”

Elias allowed half a smile. “His lordship ain’t too happy about the delay, I imagine.”

The footman’s face grew taut. “No, sir. That he ain’t.” And he’d take his frustration out on his staff, no doubt—the bastard.

With a nod of thanks, Elias let the man go and he and Groves negotiated their way across the rutted road to Marlborough’s coach. Then Elias went back to the curricle and unhitched his team from the tree where he’d left them. It had been a breakneck pursuit along the Bath Road in the dark and at speed, and ultimately all for nothing.

Groves was right, he should have shot the man when he had the chance. But when he’d seen Wessex astride his black horse, face hidden in shadows and that fabled silver pistol gleaming, some strange instinct had rendered him powerless to act.

His stomach gave an uneasy churn, and he was suddenly eager to be away. He wanted to be back at Kit’s house, back in Kit’s arms. Except that Kit wasn’t there, was he? He too was on the road, travelling to Ashbourne and his sister…

Elias swallowed, pushed away the gathering whispers in the back of his mind, and swung up into the curricle. “Groves!” he shouted over the noise of his own suspicion. “Come on—it’s a cold bloody night. Let’s be off.”

If they left now, he could be back in London before ten. He’d feel better there, and once Kit got back safe from his trip, Elias could plan his next move.

Wessex may have eluded him tonight, but Elias had marked him. He was getting closer, and he never abandoned a chase once it had begun. Never.

Chapter 35

Chilled to the bone, Elias walked slowly back to Curzon Street, weighed down by disappointment and a restless anxiety that hummed beneath his skin. All he wanted now was a stiff drink to chase away both the cold and the worry, and a good long sleep.

In the morning, things would be clearer.

The servants’ quarters were dark when he entered, all abed at this hour. He took a candle from the kitchen and crouched to light a taper from the banked fire.

“Cole?” A shadow fell over him from the doorway.

He started, almost dropping the taper. Damn, but his nerves were on edge tonight. “Mr. Tobin,” he said, gathering himself. “You’re up late.”

The man’s stout frame was wrapped in a nightgown. His worried face, what could be seen of it in the candlelight, appeared pale beneath his nightcap. “You’re to go to Mr. Duvall at once,” he said, stepping into the kitchen.

Elias’s heart guttered. “What?”

An impatient click of Tobin’s teeth. “Are you deaf, lad?”

“I thought he’d gone to Ashbourne.” He still held the lit taper and in the dark its glowing end trembled. He dropped it into the fire.

“Aye, well, Mr. Duvall arrived home not half an hour ago and in something of a—” His voice cut off; Tobin would never gossip about his master. “He’s gone to his room and asked for you to attend him as soon as you returned. So get yourself up there, lad.”

Elias swallowed, or tried to; his throat was suddenly too dry, his stomach knotting. “Is he—?” He could barely bring himself to ask. “Is he unwell?”

“I don’t know,” Tobin said, which wasn’t the reassurance Elias had sought. “But he seemed distressed.” He frowned and made a shooing gesture. “Now on your way, Cole. Don’t keep him waiting.”

With a nod, he took the candle and hurried up the stairs to Kit’s room. There were any number of reasons why he’d be home so soon, surely? Certainly, many reasons to explain his distress. It didn’t mean anything and Elias refused to jump to any conclusions.

Nonetheless, his hand shook as he knocked lightly on Kit’s door. After a pause, he heard a quiet, “Enter.”

The sound of Kit’s voice kicked Elias’s pulse up, and it was racing as he turned the handle and slipped into the room. “Kit?”