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Theo watched her disappear into the shadows. The ache in his chest hadn’t gone away, and he was under no illusions that it ever would.

Abruptly, he strode away, leaving the gloomy halls around the dining room behind, and headed to the front door.

“My coat and hat, Timmins, please,” he called when the butler dutifully materialized into view. “I am going out.”

At that hour, in the middle of the morning, Clara’s Heart was almost deserted.

There were a few hardened drunkards there, of course, but last night’s carousers would have been thrown out hours ago, and tonight’s carousers hadn’t yet arrived.

Theo was shown to his usual seat by a yawning footman and was told that when his companion arrived, he would be shown straight over. And then the footman disappeared, leaving him to lounge alone.

Their little alcove was generally very private, with a curtain that could be drawn for extra privacy, but since the club was almost empty, privacy was not really needed.

A pall of smoke hung in the air, stale and acrid, and the nearby coffee table was smudged with rings of sticky spilled alcohol, left to dry instead of being wiped away. When he shifted his feet, crumbs crunched under his soles.

Theo stifled a sigh. Perhaps it wouldn’t hurt to choose anewfavorite place. After all, fathers were meant to take their sons to their clubs, and nobody in their right mind would bring a child to Clara’s Heart, not even the infamous Lucifer Langdon.

The thought of a child made his chest clench. He would be surprised if Anna had fallen pregnant right away, but it wasn’t unheard of. If she waswith child, they could separate and never see each other again.

It should be a relief, so why did it make him feel so ill?

The footman brought back a glass of brandy without being asked and set it down on the table. Theo’s fingers closed around it before he could think twice. He could almost taste the tang of brandy on his tongue.

“There you are, old chap! I was surprised to get your note. I’m generally not out of bed at this time of day.”

“Unless something summons you,” Theo pointed out. “Here, take my brandy. I’ll only gulp it down, and it’s far too early.”

“Now this,” Stephen remarked, scooping up the glass, “isnotlike you.”

He settled himself in the opposite seat, holding the glass by the stem. He swirled the brandy in the glass, his head tilted to the side like a curious bird.

“Something has happened,” he said. A statement. “Tell me what it is.”

Theo closed his eyes, biting his lip until he tasted copper. Then he began to talk.

The story was a fairly simple one. He began a little earlier in the account, when he and Anna had met that man in the opera. Stephen’s eyes tightened at the mention of him, but he stayed quiet, letting Theo continue.

“She says that she wishes to return home,” Theo said, “but I don’t believe that she will.”

Stephne hummed thoughtfully. “You think not? Why? Is Anna not a woman of her word?”

“Of course she is, but this is her home now.”

“And she believes that?”

Theo pressed his lips together. “She can visit her family if she likes. I’m not keeping her prisoner.”

“No, no, of course not. But this man… wasn’t it agreed that he would stay out of London? Out of your way, specifically?”

A muscle jumped in Theo’s jaw. “Yes, it was.”

“And… and Anna truly does not know? Does she not suspect, even for a moment, that you are not Kitty’s father?”

Theo let his eyes flutter shut. There it was. The words laid out plainly in a way that only Stephen could do.

Stephen had been his confidante, whereas Mrs. Haunt, Timmins, and Martha had found out through other methods.

If Isabella had told anybody, she had kept it to herself.