Jack had been eating steadily since retrieving breakfast from the chop house. In the light of a cold morning, he was gaunt and tired, no longer a charming schemer.

Maybe he never would be again.

“You expect me to believe that Elsmore would turn a family member over to the magistrate, bring scandal down on the bank, and ruin his own name over a few quid?” Ellie asked, pouring the tea. “He’s not stupid, Jack.”

“He’s also not the Earl of Winston, Ellie, and thousands of pounds is not a few quid. Moreover, even Winston didn’t prey on his own family. You should have some eggs. You’re peaky and cross.”

She’d waited up until Jack had come strolling back from his midnight errand, and then she’d tossed in her bed until sunrise. Where was Elsmore, and what would he do about an embezzling ducal heir?

Ellie buttered a slice of toast. “How did His Grace leave matters?”

“You should ask him. When I left the bank, he was going through Mr. James Dorset’s desk drawer by drawer. His Grace paid me handsomely from the small fortune we’d unearthed from one false bottom alone.”

“A small fortune?”

“We found two thousand pounds, Ellie, and that was simply the ready money Dorset stored on the premises in one drawer. My guess is, a safe in the man’s apartments will hold five times that amount. His jewelry box will bear investigation, as will his snuff boxes, wardrobe, mews…He could not have taken all of that with him. He and I were of a height. I’m tempted to have a look.”

The toast was good, probably made from bread baked fresh that morning. “What about turning honest, Jack?”

He took another bite of eggs. “Put in a word for me with your duke, Ellie. Another cousin was apparently brokering loans, and who’s to say additional mischief isn’t afoot?”

“Elsmore will blame himself. That’s why he’s not turning James over to the authorities.” Ellie added a drizzle of honey to her toast and missed the cinnamon she’d enjoyed at Ambledown.

She missed Elsmore, too, desperately. No need to state the obvious.

“If your duke hasn’t laid information against Dorset yet,” Jack said. “I suspect he still might, though I told him you don’t favor hangings.”

A toast crumb caught in Ellie’s throat. “Why would you tell him that?”

“Because it’s the truth,” Jack said, thumping her on the back. “It will always be the truth. This is excellent bacon, but then, I haven’t had bacon since Michaelmas. Are you really determined to pike off to France?”

“I miss Mama, Jack. I miss her every day, and my bank runs like a top now. I have some money put by, and she’s apparently never going to leave France. I will write to our grandparents and ask them to visit me there.”