your London townhouse. The idea was that I would offer some . . . familiarity to you.
“Holy hell. Spenceeer?” he whispered. The son of his family’s head butler in Leeds, Spencer had been a playmate and friend to both Dare and his brother.
The other man bowed his head. “My lord.”
“I didn’t . . . I . . .” Words failed.
Spencer cleared his throat. “A great deal of time passed. We were boys, and I go by my family name now, and as such, I wouldn’t expect you to remember me.”
But . . . Dare had. He’d spent his life burying memories deep down in an attempt to forget everyone. It had been altogether easier to forget them than think that they’d forgotten him. It had been just one more thing Temperance had helped him see.
That was why Spencer had been devoted when Dare hadn’t deserved it. And why he’d been committed to helping Dare and saving the Milford estate.
The office door opened, and Kinsley swept in. “Dare. Spencer,” she greeted as the servant jumped to his feet and bowed.
“My lady.”
“If you’ll excuse us, Spencer?” Dare requested.
“Of course.” The other man proceeded to gather up his things.
It was the first time since he’d returned to his family’s fold that Kinsley had sought him out . . . about anything. Upon Temperance’s departure, Kinsley had settled into her days looking after Rose . . . until the child had gone.
“You wished to speak with me?” he began when Spencer showed himself out.
“About your wife. You should go to her,” Kinsley said without preamble.
He blinked wildly. “I beg your pardon?”
“Don’t beg mine. Beg hers.” Kinsley plopped onto one of the wing chairs. “I trust Grandmother is responsible for Temperance feeling as though she had to leave. Grandmother means well, but she has never been one to truly understand matters of the heart.”
His sister spoke as one who knew. And it reminded him of all the ways in which she was still a stranger . . .
“Well?” Kinsley lifted an eyebrow. “I expect you have something to say.”
“Temperance . . . chose, and she didn’t choose me.” There were no more humbling words he’d ever admit, ones that had ensured he’d remain forever broken. Dare glanced down at the official-looking pair of envelopes that had been resting at the corner of his desk for the past three days. “I . . . would respect what she wants.” He’d only ever taken where she was concerned, committing an emotional theft greater than any other robbery he’d ever carried out.
“She loves you,” Kinsley said simply. There was a brief pause. “Though I’ll admit that it’s not entirely altruistic, sisterly devotion on my part.” Sadness paraded across the young lady’s face. “I . . . miss her very much.”
“I miss her as well,” he said gruffly. It was the first real, meaningful admission he’d ever brought himself to make to his sister.
Kinsley glanced down at the envelopes. “You are not done with her. Not just yet.”
No. But . . . soon. He couldn’t, however, bring himself to make that admission, not because of Kinsley but rather for what it would do to him emotionally. In the end, another knock came, saving him from answering.
Spencer entered with Avery close at his heels. “Mr. Bryant to see you,” he said coolly.
Bryant . . . the only guest whom the always unflappable butler had never bothered to feign a politeness for or over.
All Dare’s senses went on alert. The visit was long overdue, but not unexpected. He’d been anticipating it. “Kinsley, if you’ll excuse me?” he said for a second time that afternoon, trading one guest for another yet again.
Kinsley climbed to her feet.
“What, no introductions?” Avery drawled with his usual dry humor.
Kinsley blushed, and it was the blush . . . the hint of danger, and the sign that he’d be wise to keep his sister far away from the likes of Avery Bryant.
His partner stepped aside as Kinsley passed by him.
“You’ve become a protective brother in your old age. Never thought I’d see that,” Avery said with a laugh. Crossing over, his longtime partner availed himself of the same seat Kinsley had just vacated. “I’ve already paid visits to Moray, Wentnick, and Ashcroft.” His partner withdrew a heavy packet from inside the front of his jacket and set it down at the corner of Dare’s desk . . . directly beside the envelopes. “Made out quite well, I did,” the other man said. “I secured nearly two thousand