“Bastardy is no advantage in any situation.” Jasper straddled the line Lynd traversed so well, which worked-sur-prisingly-to Jasper’s benefit. He was often hired by those who wanted his services to go unnoticed and were capable of paying the added expense such stealth required. That proclivity enabled him to work with Eliza Martin, because his face was not well known.

“It is in this one.” Lynd ran a hand through brown hair as yet unaffected by the graying of age. “It takes breeding to tolerate the sorts of pompous asses Melville’s niece expects you to rub along with, and you will be far less noticeable in the venues she will expect you to attend than anyone else I could think of.”

Standing, Jasper moved to the console table by the window where decanters of liquors and crystal tumblers waited. Lynd was one of very few individuals who were aware of Jasper’s lineage. He had Jasper’s confidence because he’d once shown Jasper’s mother a kindness when she desperately needed it.

As Jasper poured two rations of Armagnac, his gaze took in the two disreputable-looking lackeys who waited out on the street. Lynd’s men.

It had taken Jasper some time to locate a respectable neighborhood that would accommodate his activities without undue strain. His neighbors tolerated the endless comings and goings of his crew because they found his presence useful in minimizing footpad crimes in the immediate vicinity. He considered his services to the community a small price to pay to avoid residing in the areas surrounding Fleet Street and the Strand, where Lynd and many other thief-takers lived. It was nigh impossible to abide the stench from the sewer ditch, which was an inescapable odor embedded into the very walls of the surrounding buildings.

Returning to his seat, Jasper set Lynd’s glass at the edge of the desk. “I have an appointment with Miss Martin this afternoon. I’ll learn then how serious Montague is about winning her hand. Perhaps he has grown desperate enough to become foolish.”