“I don’t know. I suppose I ought to go, since he is my only family, but… The thing is, a few years ago, a colourman of my acquaintance wanted to sell up, and I could have bought the freehold of his shop along with the contents. It was a wonderful opportunity. I wrote to ask Augustus if he would loan me forty pounds, and he refused in rather strong terms. He said I should manage my affairs with more care and put the needs of the family before my own. It was very selfish of me to make such demands on him, and he hoped I would not be so importunate again.”
Nico bristled. “The needs of the family meaning himself, I take it?”
“The eldest son is the future of the family,” Titus said, as if that were an axiom. “But I had never asked for anything before, and I would have paid the loan back. With interest! And if he had lent me that money, my shop wouldhave been safe. That’s what I cannot let go of. I would have been safe for the rest of my life. I wouldn’t have been dependent on—on my landlord, and I wouldn’t have had to marry Miss Whitecross, and I would not be rich now.” He huffed a sort of laugh. “I can’t decide if that means I owe Augustus my good fortune, or if I am absolved from giving him a penny.”
“The first, an unequivocal no,” Nico said. “If I push you over a cliff and you land on a heap of gold, that does not make me your benefactor. The second… also no, because absolution does not come into it. You have been sacrificed on the altar of family twice over, and that is quite enough.”
“Goodness,” Titus said. “You have a turn of phrase.”
“Am I wrong?”
“No, I daresay not. But all the same, he is the head of the family and my only remaining brother unless Ves ever comes back, and he was not obliged to lend me money just because I asked for it. So I do wonder if I ought to forgive and forget.”
“Did he ask your forgiveness?” Nico enquired.
“Good Lord, no. He complained that I had not written in a long time. I stopped writing to him after he refused the loan, you see. I had always written twice a year, and I wondered if he would write to me if I stopped, and he did not. This is the first communication between us in almost four years, and it comes when I am rich. I wish I found that more surprising.”
“But you did not throw his letter away,” Nico said.
Pause. “No,” Titus said at last. “No, I did not.”
“Because…”
Titus was silent a moment longer, then reached for his glass and took a deliberate mouthful of wine, followed by the grimace of a man who didn’t usually do dramatic drinking. “Because I would like to believe my remaining brother cares for me, or at least that we could repair our relations. Maybethat is very stupid, but so many other things have changed for me. Is it not possible for my family situation to change too?”
Nico wouldn’t have put money on it, but he said, “All things can change. It might be he is ashamed and does not know how to say so. Perhaps your good fortune was the excuse he needed to write?”
Titus was examining his face with the intensity of the slightly drunk. “Do you think that’s likely?”
Nico did not think so at all, but Titus looked like he needed to hear it. He opened his hands. “Can people not grow, and learn, and do better?”
“I don’t know,” Titus said. “I really don’t know if they can. The wisest advice I ever heard was that if you want to know what someone will do in the future, look at what they did in the past.”
Nico tried to stop the flinch, but clearly he failed, because Titus’s brows drew together. “You don’t agree?”
“I don’t disagree, but I hope you are wrong. I have made far too many mistakes for that. No, not mistakes, but decisions. Poor decisions, selfish decisions, reckless decisions. Even now—” Shit. He’d also had too much to drink, he realised, because the urge to blurt out the truth to Titus was all at once near overwhelming. Put it all on the table, beg him to help. Watch any interest in his eyes flicker and die at the request for a fortune.
If he kicks you out, you and Eve are dead.
“Even now?”
Nico sipped wine, scrabbling to get his thoughts back in order. “I am in England to conduct some business on behalf of my cousin, with whom I was brought up. My cousin is in great need of funds, and to cut a long story short, we must sell the family heirloom.”
“Oh. I am very sorry to hear it.”
“It is for Evelyn. I would sell the moon if I could make someone buy it.”
“I don’t see there is anything wrong with that at all.”
Nico fervently hoped he never would. “My father would disagree. He would say the legacy of our family is more important than the comfort of its younger members.”
“Ah. Yes, I understand that very well. The family is what matters, except that most of the people in the family don’t actually countasthe family.”
“Exactement. Well, I say that my family is my cousin, and I will do anything that is required of me. I would sell our family name to the highest bidder, and be pleased to do it.”
“Good,” Titus said with force. “Good for you. If Augustus had cared even a fraction as much for any of us as you do for your cousin, I might still have some of my brothers.”
He reached out as he spoke. It was clearly an involuntary movement, offering a touch of comfort for Nico’s moral dilemma, which would have been a balm to his soul if he’d actually been telling the truth about it.