Jack started on the second bowl. “Do you want me to starve, Ellie? This is work, one old man with a feeble lantern isn’t that hard to dodge, and putting me in the dock when I’ll be in the bank on the duke’s say-so will be a lot harder than if I’m there for my own purposes.”

Ellie closed her eyes as the cat skittered from her shoulder, up over the back of the reading chair and thence to the floor.

“If you are caught,” she said, voice tight, “with money in your pockets, or a ledger written in some bank employee’s hand, you will be hanged on Monday next.”

Jack sat back, a piece of bread in his hand. “I won’t be caught, I won’t nip anything, and it won’t be like that.”

He and Eleanora exchanged a look, pleading on his part, furious on hers. A silent conversation ensued, one Rex was not meant to understand. The duel ended when Eleanora sneezed.

Rex passed her a handkerchief, which she glared at before taking out her own handkerchief.

“I despair of you, Jackson Naylor,” she said. “If you want coin, I’ll give you coin. My lease here is paid up for the rest of the month, and I doubt Lord Stephen will turn you out without warning. He’s more charitable than he lets on. Please tell Cook the cat will need a new owner, for I refuse to bide in England while…”

Her glower should have cindered Jack on the spot.

Jack had apparently weathered that fire before, because he sopped his bread in the soup as casually as any drover at his evening meal. “Something about His Grace’s linen looks familiar.”

“What the devil does that matter?” Rex asked. “I’m properly attired for daytime, and most men wear a neckcloth.”

Jack gestured with his bread. “Not that linen—your fancy little kercher. Has a unicorn on it. Don’t see many unicorns in my parts of London.”

“My family crest,” Rex said. “The sixth countess brought Scottish wealth to her marriage. When the family was elevated to ducal honors, the unicorn was a nod to her antecedents. You’ve probably seen the crest on my town coach.”

Eleanora left her chair. “Did you see this exact crest, Jack, or one like it?”

He studied his bread. “That one, on a handkerchief, and I recall thinking, ‘Only a fool would flash that bit of fancy about in a place like this.’”

“Where were you?” Eleanora asked, crossing to the desk. “Who was the fool?” She gazed at her cousin with the same focus she turned on a fresh set of figures. “Think, Jack, because if a member of Elsmore’s family has been haunting low places, that’s relevant.”