Page 7 of The Housebreaker's Assistant
Greer smirked. “Come now, Jonathan,” he said. “You’ve been here long enough to know you’ve chosen the lesser of two evils.”
“I’ve still chosen evil,” Jonathan said glumly.
Charlie rolled his eyes a bit, which Jonathan might not have seen. Valentine snorted with laughter and exchanged a cheeky look with his friend.
“There’s no telling how long we have to make an attempt to rescue Lord Fabian,” Titus continued with the matter at hand. “Our hope is to send agents to Cornwall to make a stab at it as soon as possible.”
“Is this some Scotland Yard investigation, then?” Greer said, guessing where the discussion was heading.
“Hardly,” Brutus laughed. “Scotland Yard has very little authority beyond London. And even if it did, we have reason to believe Lord Barnstable was instrumental in his son’s kidnapping and has directed the Metropolitan Police to ignore the matter.”
“His own father thrust him into this?” Greer’s smile vanished entirely. The idea was abominable. He hadn’t thought it was possible for any man to be worse than his own father, but Barnstable might just prove him wrong.
“Barnstable does not like the idea of his son being a catamite,” Titus growled resentfully.
“How old is the lad?” Greer asked with a frown. He preferred a nubile young man to any woman himself, but not when they were too young to give their consent.
“He’s just had his nineteenth birthday,” Brutus said. “Not that Hammond cares.”
“You want me to rescue the man,” Greer said, eager to get right to the heart of the matter. His heart was big enough that he became invested in situations like the one being presented to him swiftly. Particularly since no one had come to save him in his youth, when he’d needed it the most.
“We would like you to lead an attempt, yes,” Brutus said.
“I’ll do it,” Greer said without hesitation. “If the man is being kept against his will?—”
“And drugged,” Charlie blurted, surprising Greer. In all the time he’d known Jonathan, he’d never heard Charlie speak once.
He was certain Charlie would never speak around him again, given the way the delicate young man shrank from him when Greer turned to stare at him.
Jonathan soothed and stroked him, then said in a tense, quiet voice, “Fabian is being drugged to keep him compliant. He was kept naked and chained to the bed in a cottage on the grounds of Fairford House as well. And abused.”
That was all Greer needed. Rage raced through him, along with the memories of a thousand bruises and other injuries he’d received when he was too weak and small to defend himself.
Never again. He would never leave himself open to that sort of abuse ever again, and he would not stand for anyone else being treated so egregiously either.
“When do I leave for Cornwall?” he asked Brutus and Titus, his voice low and trembling with rage.
Brutus held up a hand. “Not so fast,” he said.
“You would hesitate when a young man’s life is at stake?” Greer asked.
Jonathan huffed, as if he agreed with Greer.
“We do not want to hesitate at all,” Titus said, clearly frustrated with the conversation. “If it were up to me, you would depart for Cornwall at first light.”
“Then let me go,” Greer said.
“You cannot go alone,” Brutus said.
Those words dropped like rocks into Greer’s gut. “You know I only work alone,” he countered.
“Not this time,” Brutus said.
“The mission is too delicate, and Trebarral Castle is too difficult for one man to break into,” Titus added.
“I beg your pardon,” Greer said, pretending offence that the brothers did not think he had the skill to carry out the mission himself. Except it wasn’t pretend offence at all, the more he thought about it.
“You need an assistant to carry this off,” Brutus insisted. “The castle is formidable, but more than that, there will be complications in bringing Lord Fabian away from his captivity.”
