“Harte—” Esta looked momentarily surprised—maybe even a little guilty—when she turned to find him watching from the doorway. It was the guilt in her expression that made him wary.
“This is cozy,” he said, stepping into his kitchen. He hadn’t planned on her being back from her date with Jack yet. She’d been staying out later and later every night, but he’d come home to spend some time in his apartment alone for once. He hadn’t been prepared to find her bent over their notes with Dolph. And Nibs. Seeing the boy there, in his own apartment, made his vision go red and his every instinct go on high alert. But he kept himself under control. “Having a little meeting without me, are you?”
Her brows drew together. “We wouldn’t be having it without you if you’d been here when I got back.”
Maybe she was telling the truth. Maybe he could trust her—after all, Dolph was there too. But the way she’d managed to edge him out little by little had already been bothering him. And now to find her with Nibs . . . “You haven’t been home this early in over a week. What am I supposed to do, sit around waiting? I had things to attend to at the theater,” he said, his jaw tight.
She gave a derisive huff. “I’m sure you did.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” he asked, stepping toward her.
“Nothing.” She glared at him. “But you’re not the one fending off Jack’s constant pawing. I swear he’s part octopus.”
“You wouldn’t have to fend him off if you’d let me come along.” But for the last two nights, she’d insisted that Jack wanted to see her alone.
Esta thought they could get further if Jack believed he was getting the best of Harte by stealing his girl. Harte had agreed, reluctantly, but he couldn’t help worrying that Esta had the advantage while he wasn’t there. Whatever truce they might have come to, he had to remember that he couldn’t fully trust her. No matter how much he might want to.
He smirked. “How far did he manage to get with you tonight?”
“You ass—” Her cheeks flushed.
“If you two are finished?” Dolph asked, impatience simmering behind his words.
“I’m not even close to finished,” Harte told him, his eyes still steady on Esta. “What are you doing here anyway?”
“I came to check up on you,” Dolph said, and there was a note of something in his voice that Harte had never heard before. That usual thread of confidence seemed to be worn away, near to breaking.
He looked at Dolph. “You don’t need to check up on me,” he said as he removed his coat and slung it on the back of a chair. “I’m keeping my word, like I said I would.” He purposely ignored Nibs. There was no way he’d be able to keep up the ruse if he acknowledged the boy.
Dolph’s icy gaze met his. “Are you?”
“Yes.” Harte yanked his cravat loose and pulled at the collar of his starched shirt.
“Jianyu tells me that Paul Kelly was seen having drinks with Jack Grew. ?You wouldn’t have had anything to do with that, would you?”
Nibs shifted, as though listening more intently to his answer.
Panic laced its fingers around Harte’s throat, but he fought through it. “I’m not going back on my word,” he said, answering the implied question rather than the stated one. But when Dolph didn’t respond, only continued to pin him with that all-knowing stare of his, Harte added, “Kelly managed to get to Jack without my help.”
“When was this?”
“The night of the Haymarket fiasco. I came to the Strega to tell you, but you were out.”
“Yes,” Dolph said. “I saw that you’d talked to Nibs.”
“I didn’t do anything he didn’t have coming to him.”
“There’s no hard feelings, Darrigan. I shouldn’t have goaded you when you were all worked up over Esta being arrested.” Nibs gave Esta a small, almost-embarrassed smile that had Harte wanting to punch him again.
“You were worked up over me?” Esta asked, puzzled.
“Gave me quite the shiner,” Nibs told her, the challenge clear in his tone.
“You punched him?”
“No one mentioned a meeting with Kelly,” Dolph said with a low growl.
Harte ignored the other two and focused on Dolph. “The meeting with Kelly must have slipped my mind,” he drawled. “Had to get your girl here out of jail since this one wasn’t any help.”
It was a gamble to throw that fact out there. . . . He probably shouldn’t be poking at Nibs. If only he’d had more luck finding his mother. Once she was safe, it would be easy enough to tell Dolph everything he’d seen that night when his fist met Nibsy’s face. But until he knew Nibs couldn’t hurt her, he was basically muzzled.
“And after?” Dolph asked, his expression grim. “You had plenty of time to tell me.”
“I’ve been a little busy since then,” he said, gesturing to the evidence on the table between them. “Besides, didn’t you tell me you’d taken care of Paul Kelly? I didn’t think he was a problem anymore.”
Dolph’s jaw tensed, but he didn’t respond. Not a good sign.
Harte took the momentary reprieve to change the course of the conversation. “What haven’t you told me?” he asked Esta.
“Except for what I learned tonight, I’ve told you everything,” she snapped.
“And when were you planning to tell me that?”
“As soon as I saw you, of course. But you got your knickers all in a twist over Dolph and Nibs being here and—”
“What was I supposed to think?” Seeing her with Dolph, not being included in whatever their conversation was—it had emphasized even more starkly how precarious his position was. He was playing them against each other, and if he wasn’t careful, he’d end up trapped in the middle.
Esta glared at him. “You were supposed to shut up for a minute and put away that fragile male ego of yours so I could tell you what happened tonight.”
“Fine.” She was right, not that he’d admit it to her, especially not in front of Dolph, who seemed far too amused with the whole exchange. “So talk.”
“As I was about to tell them—and would have told you, if you’d given me a second—remember how the Order is having something of a soiree to celebrate the spring equinox? It’s in a week, and it seems their usual entertainment has become suddenly unavailable.”
“A pity,” Dolph said dramatically.
She glanced at Dolph. “Isn’t it? But they’ve found themselves in need of someone at rather short notice. I suggested you, of course,” she told Harte, pausing for dramatic effect and enjoying the anticipation in the boy’s eyes.
“And?”
She pulled an embossed card from the handbag dangling from her wrist. “We’ve been invited to perform at Khafre Hall.”
THE HISTORY OF NOW