“Why did Howard kill him?”
She could lie, but now was the time for truth. She knew enough about Alastair Payne to suss out that he had a weakness for damsels in distress—or women who he believed needed him. She did need him. She wouldn’t catch Howard without him. Not now.
“I’m not sure. I believe it was because Robert figured out that Howard planned to double-cross the Company. He apparently stole some documents of a sensitive nature—documents he planned to sell to the highest bidder at a private auction. Robert followed the bastard to a warehouse where he planned to meet a potential buyer. Next thing you knew, the building went up in a jet of fire and smoke. There wasn’t enough left of my brother for me to identify his body. I buried an empty coffin.”
“I am sorry.”
“It was hardly your fault, unless you are Stanton Howard.”
He didn’t laugh, and for one split second, she wondered if she had been mistakenly, horribly right. She’d seen stranger things in her career.
His lips twitched, and she almost sighed aloud i kighstrn relief. “I’m not Howard, no. I’m sorry for your loss, is what I meant to say.”
“Thank you. I appreciate it. You know what it’s like to lose people you care about to this line of work. You expect it to happen, but when it does finally occur, you can’t seem to believe that it actually happened.”
“You expect it to be part of a ruse, or maybe an assignment. Any moment they’ll walk through the door and explain it was all for show, and apologize for not being able to tell you all about it in the beginning.”
“Exactly. I keep hoping he’ll send a note, or show up somewhere in a crowd and tell me it was all a mistake.”
“And then he’ll break you out of Warden custody, I suppose?” There was a little amusement in his tone, but not the mocking kind.
“Yes. He’ll be masquerading as a guard and take me away from all of this.”
“And then what? In your imagination, what do you and your brother do when you’ve managed to escape it all? Do you go back to the Company?”
She gave him a disgusted look. “Never. We buy a little house in the country and retire there. It’s in upstate New York, where there’s nothing but lakes and trees. It’s peaceful, and there’s no one trying to kill you every time you turn around. You have to drive a couple miles into town, and every once in a while you go to a dance or some community event, and no one cares what you used to do; they just offer you a drink and food and friendship.”
“It sounds lovely.”
“It is.” She laughed. “We’d be bored out of our minds within a week, and we’d probably start a fight at a church supper.”
He laughed as well, and she was glad of it. It made sense that he understood. He probably felt the same way. “I reckon that’s why people like us get into this line of work. We’re bored by life.”
“Not bored. Dissatisfied. I was never comfortable watching bad things happen to people, or sitting back and putting all my trust into a government that seemed to have money in mind more than the interests of its people. I joined the Company because my brother joined, and because I thought it was the right thing to do.”
“My father and grandfather were both Wardens. It’s in my blood. I suppose I inherited a position in it. It was certainly expected of me—just like actually sitting in my chair in the House of Lords.”
“Yes, I’d heard that your parliament was made up of many nobles. Doesn’t that defeat the purpose?”
“Not if you’re a noble. Tell me about your brother. This talk of governments and duty—true as it might be—bores me. I want to hear about something worthy.”
His words brought a strange burning sensation to her eyes. With that simple request he had honored Robert more than any of the Company agents she spoke to after his death. “You don’t have to ask me about it. It’s all right.”
“I mean it. I want to know, and it will help pass the anxious moments until we reach the dock. Tell me. What did you love most about your brother?”
ous mome="-1" face="Palatino LT Std">“His bravery. His quick thinking. I’ve seen him get into situations that I think are utterly inescapable. The next thing I know, he’s escaped. He was always the smartest and fastest, winning accolades and honors. Before our parents died, he wanted to be a lawyer. He would have been brilliant at it. If not for the accident that killed them, he could have realized that dream instead of getting caught up with the Company and Stanton Howard.”
“Perhaps he believed he could achieve more through the Company. Howard may have played on your brother’s desire to make the world a better place. He more than likely pretended to be a friend.”
“Maybe, but Robert was really good at judging people. He seemed to have a knack for knowing the heart of a person.”
“The two of you had that in common. You obviously admired him very much.”
“I did. I wanted to be more like him. He was so smart. Funny, too. He could do so many things. I’m sure the Company must have been disappointed with me. I’m sure they expected me to be more like Robert. He had an excellent service record.”
“Your reputation does well by you. You are two different people. There is no comparison.”
“Maybe not, but I can’t help but think one was made. The only distinction I have is that I am better with weapons than he was.”
“Only distinction?” He shook his head. “So the name the Dove, as in the bird often associated with death and funerals, was a mistake? It was meant for someone else?”
“No. I earned it, but at first it was a joke—started by my brother. It only became real because I was hell-bent on proving it to be true.”
“I know the feeling. I struggled to distinguish myself as well.”
“Were you constantly compared to your father and grandfather?”
Something changed in his expression—a slight shuttering behind his eyes that told her he didn’t want to discuss it. “Oh yes, in both flattering and unflattering ways. It was the old man who reminded me that we can be measured only by our own accomplishments, not anyone else’s. You leave yourself open for disappointment if you judge yourself by another person’s yardstick.”
“But comparing yourself to someone else can sometimes push you to do better than you would without that hanging over your head.”
“When was the last time that comparing yourself to your brother made you feel better rather than worse?”
He had a point. “I don’t remember.”
“Indeed.”
Claire glanced out the window. She really didn’t want to get into what she thought of herself with him. There was a sign for Ayr up ahead, but she couldn’t read what it said. “Are we close?”
“We should be. Tavish is making good time. Hopefully he won’t flip the damn thing and kill us all.”
She looked at him. He seemed so calm. Her insides were dancing and jerking like a line of Irish dancers. “Thank you,” she sa kou, Std">Sid.
“For what?”
“For distracting me with this conversation. For not bringing up the kiss from this morning, and most of all, for not expecting more, or reminding me of what a bitch I can be.”
“I do have that whole honorable reputation to live up to. But now that you’ve mentioned it, I am sorry for this morning.”
“Are you? Truly?”
Their gazes locked. “No,” he replied easily. “I’m not really sorry at all. It wasn’t the best idea I’ve ever had, but I don’t regret it. I’m probably going to regret confiding that to you, though.”
Laughter escaped her, despite the anxiety of the journey. “Thank you. No woman wants to hear a man say kissing her was a mistake, if even she agrees with him.”