wrapped over it. “It was minor.” He didn’t mention that the physician said if the blade had struck a half-inch higher, it would’ve pierced a vital organ. He intended to keep that bit of news to himself.
“That doesn’t make me any happier. But we’ll discuss it further after you’re feeling better. Coffee?”
“Please.” Daniel had no doubt their next sparring match would involve a lesson on how to defend against knives. “Did you bring me a change of clothes?”
“Of course.” He lifted the cover on the tray to reveal coddled eggs, sausage, and toast. Pierre left Daniel to his breakfast.
In short order, Daniel was dressed and knocking on the library door. Though his side was painful and had him moving slowly, he wasn’t about to remain in bed when there was more to be done.
“Enter.”
Daniel opened the door to find his brother standing behind his desk, staring out the window.
“Good morning,” Daniel said.
Richard turned quickly, surprise lighting his features. “Up and about already?”
“No reason to remain abed.”
“Not even for a knife wound?”
“You’ve endured worse.”
To Daniel’s surprise, Richard walked around his desk and gestured toward the two chairs before it. “Join me for a moment?”
“Of course.” Daniel had already shared the majority of the details of what had occurred the previous evening but he sat, curious as to what Richard had to say.
“I’ve sent a message asking the office to look into this Finch character,” Richard began as they took their seats.
“He’s a nasty enough individual, but I wouldn’t think he was worthy of Whitehall’s notice.”
“From what you’ve uncovered, his actions are no different than the slave trade, and he needs to be stopped.” Richard looked into Daniel’s eyes. “I don’t want you to pursue this any further.”
“Why not?”
“I should think it obvious. You could’ve been killed last night.”
“A few stitches was the only damage,” Daniel protested, doing his best not to grimace at the pain as he shifted in his chair.
Richard shook his head. “Don’t bother to deny the danger. That’s a nasty bruise on your jaw, and I saw for myself where that knife cut you. I know exactly what would’ve happened if the blade had penetrated deeper or been a bit higher.”
Daniel had forgotten Richard had remained in the bedchamber when the physician first examined his injury. But he was still surprised by his brother’s adamant tone. “But it didn’t.”
“I refuse to lose my only brother to a criminal.”
“Even though I nearly lost mine without even realizing you were in danger?” The question slipped out before Daniel could stop it.
“Is that what all this is about?” Richard frowned. “Because I couldn’t tell you of my work?”
“You chose not to tell me of your work,” Daniel corrected. Yet what purpose would be served by discussing the matter? Richard obviously hadn’t trusted him with the details of his life. Talking about it now didn’t change that truth. Instead, he forced a smile. “All is well, Richard. And I welcome any efforts from others to halt Finch.”
“Why didn’t you ask me to join you? I would’ve come with you.”
“I know.” It was true. He knew if he asked for Richard’s help, he’d receive it. Yet how could he when Richard hadn’t done the same of him? Knowing that made Daniel feel as if he needed to somehow prove his worthiness, both to himself and Richard. That need, along with his growing feelings for Beatrice, drove his determination to pursue Finch to the end, regardless of the risk. “But you have a wife now and will soon have a son. I don’t want anything to happen to you because of me.”
“You are my family, too.” Richard placed his hand on Daniel’s arm, surprising him. “You matter as well.”
“Thank you.” Daniel nodded, touched by his words.
“Will you keep me apprised of the situation?” Richard asked.
“If you’ll do the same.” Despite their conversation, Daniel still felt the past was unresolved. He had yet to understand why his brother hadn’t trusted him enough to tell him about his spying activities or the state of the family finances. It bothered him more than it should.
And beneath his confusion was hurt. Had he unwittingly done something in the past to make Richard feel he was unworthy of his trust?
As much as he wanted to know, he couldn’t bring himself to ask. Perhaps because he worried he wasn’t the man he needed to be to earn Richard’s complete trust. Or the man capable of handling himself in a dangerous situation. Last night had proven little, leaving him to wonder