Page 46 of To Heist and to Hold

The night of the masquerade came much faster than Ethan expected.

Especially as every moment he was not scouring Dionysus from top to bottom—alongside Isaac, of course, who refused to be left out of even the most trivial details in the search for the jewels and, more importantly, the person responsible—he spent thinking of Heloise.

And each moment with her on his mind and not at his side was the worst torture.

Was she well? Was she eating? Was she losing sleep as he was, thinking about what had been between them?

And, worse than all those questions combined: Would she ever forgive him for the part he’d played, however unknowingly, in her sister-in-law’s misfortune?

Forgiveness. He sighed, looking down on St James’s from his rooms, watching the quiet crawl of traffic, traffic that would soon be as constrained as the sand in the neck of an hourglass as the time of the masquerade arrived.

Mere days before, he would have scoffed at the idea of wanting Heloise’s forgiveness for anything.

His hurt had been too great, the sense of betrayal too acute for him to even consider such a thing.

Yet after the sleepless nights he’d spent going over all that had happened, one thought in the whole debacle stood out first and foremost: what she must have gone through, the fear and anxiety and worry, all because of his club.

And he knew she had done only what she’d felt she’d had to do.

Was he still incredibly hurt from finding out the truth?

God, yes. The pain in his chest was so sharp, at times he thought he would never draw breath again.

But he understood her. Or, at least, he understood why she had done what she had. Which only added to the guilt that pressed down on him like stone slabs on his chest.

“Penny for your thoughts,” Isaac’s voice said in his ear.

Ethan jumped, glancing sharply at his brother, who had somehow materialized at his side. “When the hell did you get here?”

“I did knock. Several times.” Isaac pursed his lips as he considered him. “Though I daresay you have much on your mind.”

“That’s an understatement,” Ethan mumbled, turning back to the scene out the window, glancing up and down the street once more. “Shall I take it the jewels were not found during your final search of the lower offices?” he asked quietly.

“No. Though we both knew they wouldn’t be.”

“Yes,” Ethan murmured. He and Isaac had scoured every inch of Dionysus from top to bottom these past three days, and not a single penny had been found out of place, much less a full set of priceless rubies.

He had desperately hoped they could locate them, that tonight and all the dangers that would accompany it would not need to happen—and that he could finally be free of the guilt and yearning that Heloise dredged up in him.

Now, however, there was no alternative but for their plans to commence.

A carriage slowed in front of the club then, and he tensed, peering down at it, waiting for it to stop and a familiar sable head to emerge from within. But it kept on rolling down the street. He let out a harsh breath, not certain if he was frustrated or relieved that Heloise was not yet here.

“Looking for Mrs. Marlow?” Isaac drawled.

Once more Ethan’s gaze snapped to his brother, only to find him grinning with unabashed glee. “You are looking for her,” Isaac said.

“Whelp,” Ethan grumbled, even as his gaze returned to the street.

Isaac was silent beside him for a time, his posture easy, and Ethan relaxed just because of his presence.

Tonight’s plans to flush out the villain, all while they hosted their largest event of the year, were fraught with tension and anxiety.

Though he knew it needed to happen, that they needed to oust whoever was responsible for threatening Dionysus’s hard-earned reputation, ruining lives such as Miss Marlow’s, and indirectly causing Gavin’s death three years earlier, that did not mean he did not worry about the repercussions.

All they had worked toward could very well be at risk.

But having his brother beside him, knowing they were in this together no matter what might occur, was the greatest comfort to him.

Until said brother opened his mouth and spoke again on that subject Ethan had no wish to discuss.

“What will happen between the two of you after this night is through?”

Ethan clenched his back teeth so tightly he felt the ache of it radiate to his ears. “Nothing will happen.”

“Why?”

A sharp bark of laughter escaped Ethan’s lips. “Why? That should be obvious.”

“What, because it started out under false pretenses?”

“I would think,” Ethan managed through his teeth, “that is a good enough reason.”

He expected his brother to concede. Which was truly stupid of him. His brother had never conceded in his life. If anything, opposition only made him more tenacious.

“You’re an arse.”

“What the hell…?” Ethan muttered before he glowered at his brother. “How am I an arse for believing there is no future for us?”

“Because, dear brother,” Isaac proclaimed with a disgusting amount of self-assurance, “while it began with a lie, it’s obvious that the feelings you both developed during said affair are not.”

Why, Ethan wondered, did his heart leap in his chest at that? But he would not be swayed by that traitorous organ. “Bollocks.”

Isaac shrugged. “Why else would you be brooding? Not that you don’t brood most of the time,” he corrected himself. “But this brooding is different. And it only intensifies whenever Mrs. Marlow is mentioned.”

“It doesn’t matter how I might feel,” he gritted, his cheeks heating because Isaac had been able to see to the heart of him so easily. “What matters is that everything Heloise proclaimed to feel was false.”

There was a heavy pause. Then Isaac said, tone thoughtful, “I believe her feelings are much more real than even you can imagine.”

Before Ethan could think how to react to that, Isaac adjusted his cravat and said, “I’d best be off now. There’s still much to do before the evening commences. Though,” he continued, sobering considerably, “are you quite certain we cannot confide our plans to Teagan and Parsons?”

Ethan sighed, though not from frustration at his brother once more bringing up such a contentious subject.

No, this sigh was born out of pain, plain and simple.

There was nothing more in this world he wanted—besides Heloise, of course, but that was a fruitless wanting—than to confide in his two closest friends.

“I truly wish we could,” he said. “But though I’m fairly certain of their innocence—”

“They are innocent.”

He dipped his head in acknowledgement. Or, rather, his deep need to believe in their innocence.

With his certainty that Isaac was not to blame, his desire to think only the best of Teagan and Parsons had become so powerful, he was having a hell of a time ignoring it.

God knew that even considering one of them as the source of the betrayal at Dionysus devastated him.

But it was made so much worse when he thought of Gavin’s death three years earlier—and that the one responsible had allowed Gavin to take the blame.

How could either of them have done something so heinous?

It had been one thing for someone to cheat their patrons and betray the trust of everyone who worked at the club; it was quite another to play the coward, inadvertently leading to Gavin’s death.

But he could not shy away from learning the truth. No matter how much it might gut him.

“You know as well as I,” he said, voice soft, “that the fewer people who know about this the better.”

“I know,” Isaac replied, shoulders slumping.

In the next moment, however, his chin came up, a determined gleam entering his dark eyes.

“The fewer people who know about it, the safer we’ll all be, Teagan and Parsons included.

” He grinned. “As well as Mrs. Marlow, whom I have every hope of calling my sister-in-law someday.”

Before Ethan could think how to react—God knew the war that was going on within him, part of him rejoicing at the very idea and another part wanting to reach out and punch Isaac in the face—his brother winked and was out the door.

“That little shit,” he growled to the empty room before going back to staring out the window, trying and failing not to think about his brother’s words becoming reality. It was a relief when Mary arrived. That relief, however, was short-lived.

“Mr. Sinclaire, sir,” she piped from the doorway. “Mrs. Finch and Mrs. Marlow have arrived, along with several other fine-looking ladies.”

Why did his heart leap at that? So violently, in fact, that if he weren’t certain it was being held in by his ribs, he’d expect it to burst from his chest and bounce across the room. Frowning, he glanced behind him to the empty street below.

Mary, bless her, was one step ahead as usual. “They’ve arrived by the back door. Shall I show them up?”

“No,” was his quick reply. Too quick, if Mary’s widened eyes were anything to go by. But having Heloise here, in this place where they had lain together, in the place where he had loved her, would be more than he could bear.

He cleared his throat. “I need to show them about the boxing hall,” he explained.

Mary, thank God, nodded as if that made perfect sense. “I’ll inform them you’ll be down momentarily.”

“No.” Once more that one word burst from his lips. Once more Mary looked at him as if he’d taken leave of his senses. “There’s no time to waste, after all,” he said by way of excuse. “I’ll accompany you.”