Maitland was a handsome man, no one could deny that, with broad shoulders, longish dark hair and a dimple in his cheek when he smiled, which he did at Jasper. Jasper didn’t return the expression as he slowly got to his feet.

“Mr. Maitland,” he drawled, ignoring Maitland’s outstretched hand of greeting. “I never thought I’d see you again. I certainly never thought I’d hear you stole my fiancée and spirited her away to God knows where.”

Maitland flopped himself into the seat across from the one Jasper had abandoned. “I would wager you didn’t, Harcourt. Funny where life takes us.”

Jasper fought the urge to simply pummel this man and sat down. Punching him was what Solomon would have done, all emotion and no reason. Jasper had to be better.

As much as it pained him.

“You have some explaining to do, Maitland,” he growled. “Start talking. I have no time for foolish games.”

“And I have less than you do,” Maitland snapped and the smile fell away and revealed the hardened man beneath.

“Then tell me why. Why have you done this and what do you want?”

“Your brother and I went a long way back,” he said, motioning for a barmaid. “Your best whisky, darlin’. It’s on the gentleman.” He winked at Jasper as he sent her on her way. “I mean, you must have discovered some of his…less savory interests since he…” There was a beat’s hesitation. “Since you buried him.”

Jasper pursed his lips, for this subject was a sore one, indeed. Yes, he knew his brother gambled in hells of the worst kind, that he smuggled goods against his own country, that he invested in ridiculous schemes, including a tunnel under the Thames four years before, which had turned out to be some kind of underhanded way for him to hide money he’d gotten from an unnamed source. In the end, the tunnel had truly collapsed, though, and Solomon had lost it all, along with several of the diggers.

Jasper’s brother had been a fool and a sometime villain, and now his friendship with the man sitting across from Jasper came into sharper focus.

Jasper despised Maitland for that. For casting a harsh light on the shadows he tried his best to ignore.

“So, you were friends,” he said with a shrug that didn’t reflect his feelings on the matter whatsoever. “What the hell does that have to do with Anne or with me?”

“He owed me something,” Maitland said, glancing up as the barmaid brought his whisky. He took a long slug and motioned for her to bring another before he continued, “He owed me more than you could ever imagine.”

“You were settled nicely for your help with my brother,” Jasper said. “I now question that decision.”

“I’m sure you do.” Maitland shifted, almost as if he was uncomfortable. “But I want something else.”

“And what is that?”

Maitland looked at him speculatively. “Your brother took something of mine before he died.”