“He is not trespassing on bank grounds,” Eleanora said, folding her arms. “I will not have it.”

“You are leaving for France, madam,” Rex said, gently, lest she lay into him with her fists. “But as it happens, nobody need trespass anywhere. I have a key to the bank, I am a director, and a major shareholder. If I choose to take a prospective employee on a discreet tour of the premises, that is entirely within my purview.”

Eleanora sank onto the sofa. “I give up. I wash my hands of the both of you. Break into as many banks as you please and take yourselves on an uninvited tour of Carlton House while you’re about it. This is madness, and will profit you nothing. Jack, you are putting your trust in a duke who will be ruined by scandal should a word of any of this become known. Tread lightly.”

“We’re doomed, Your Grace,” Jack said, dusting crumbs into his soup bowl. “When Eleanora gets all chilly and polite, there’s no talking sense to her. We might as well drop by your bank and have a look about.”

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Fifteen

“My problem,” James informed the empty room, “is that I lack a ruthless streak.”

Eddie’s office was cozy, the appointments tasteful. The watchman had come by once, and James had waved him off with assurances that he need not look in again. The old fellow had shuffled back to his brazier, happy to commune with his flask rather than traverse chilly corridors.

A sketch hung on the wall opposite the desk, though in the dim light of sconces and candles, the youths portrayed by the artist were more shadow than form. Elsmore had been caught with the three bachelor cousins, lounging about on a picnic blanket after a cricket match.

A foursome of good-looking young men, though the image somehow managed to portray that Elsmore’s team had won. The duke half-reclined on his side, like a Roman statesman, a plate of grapes before him. The other cousins sat in equally relaxed postures, but they lacked Elsmore’s sense of…

Something. Self-possession, self-assurance. Something unfairly denied the duke’s cousins, and most especially denied his heir.

A noise down the corridor disturbed James’s musings, which was fortunate. He had put right what he could in the family ledgers and had only to collect his funds and his personal account book, and then he could be on his way.

Dover by morning was too much to hope for on winter roads, but Dover by noon was entirely possible. The tides and winds might leave him kicking his heels for a day or two if he was unlucky, and few boats would sail on the Sabbath under even favorable conditions. Money could solve that problem, if the weather was obliging.