Selina was working to process everything he was saying. “If you know about my business, you must know that I’m working with Luther. Does he know you’re alive? And Mrs. Kinnon?”
Rafe grimaced apologetically. “Don’t be angry with them. I made them promise to keep my secret. Rafe Blackwell needed to die.”
Selina sat back in the chair and crossed her arms. “Even for his sister?”
“As I said, I was trying to protect you.” He pierced her with a dark glower. “This is a dangerous life here—the one I worked hard to escape. You may not remember just how terrible it was.”
“Oh, I do, brother. I do.” Her tone was soft, but the memories were hard. “How could I ever forget when that was why you sent me away, separating me from the only family I knew? Is that why you stopped responding to my letters? To protect me?” Hurt threaded through every part of her so that tears should have streamed down her face. But she didn’t cry.
“Somewhat.” He wrapped his hands around the tankard and briefly squeezed as if he was trying to release some of the tension between them. “I know you wanted to come back here. You wrote that in every letter. I didn’t want to encourage that.”
“So you stopped writing altogether.” That had been about the time that Beatrix had come to the seminary. “Even though I kept writing to you.” Right up until she’d left her governess position. After that horrid event, she’d wanted to put every part of the past behind her except for Beatrix. It was several years before she’d decided she wanted to find her brother.
“You’d found Beatrix, and it was obvious from your letters that you were close. You’re still close—she’s your bloody sister.” He picked up his tankard and took another drink.
Was that jealousy in his tone? Good. “In every way that matters,” Selina said.
He set his tankard down, and his eyes softened to a warmth that eased the remnants of her anger. “I’m glad. Once I read about her in your letters, I knew you’d be all right. Better than you could ever be here. With me.”
The sadness in his voice bent her even further. Her safety had always been paramount to him. That was why he’d sent her away in the first place. And apparently why he’d kept himself from her until now.
Selina sipped her ale. “So you’re worried about Sheffield?”
“He’s a danger to your enterprise. And, to be honest, to mine.”
“Why, because he wants to see you hanged for killing children?”
“Yes, but I didn’t start that fire at the flash house. It was Partridge’s place.” His eyes turned so frigid, Selina nearly shivered. “You wouldn’t have remembered it. That was after you left London.”
“Why did you kill Partridge?” There were so many reasons to do so, and that was only what Selina remembered from her time in his service. She had to think there was something more, something that pushed Rafe over the edge.
“I had to, but not for his business, which Sheffield and others assumed. I wanted out. I’d started up my own enterprise, loaning money, mostly, as the Vicar. In those days, I didn’t show my face, so no one would know it was me. It was the only way I could leave—if I became someone else.”
“How close were you to Partridge, then?” Selina and Rafe had started thieving for him when she was eight. Samuel Partridge had taken a liking to them, and Rafe had become one of his favored lads, earning positions of increasing importance. By the time Selina had left London, Rafe had been in charge of several gangs of child thieves and had begun working in one of the receiver shops. His success had given him the financial means to send her away. He hadn’t thought twice about continuing his life as a criminal, even as he protected Selina from the same.
“His right hand—or I had been until I asked to leave. I didn’t want to work for him any longer.”
“We never wanted to work for him.” They hadn’t had a choice at all. Well, she supposed she had. She could have been a prostitute instead.
“No, we didn’t. And I’m trying very hard not to be a criminal at all, which is why I don’t need Sheffield on my arse.”
He was trying not to be a criminal? Perhaps he’d found financial security. Selina hadn’t—not yet. But hopefully after this stint as Madame Sybila here in London, she’d be in