Midnight Jewel (The Glittering Court #2)(113)

“I hope you got it then. Because I’ve come for my pay—unless you’re betraying me on that.”

“Of course not.” He reached into a pocket and took out two crown coins, each worth twenty-five gold. “And I swear, we won’t do anything next time that—”

“Next time? Are you serious?” I studied his face. He was. “Tom, there isn’t going to be a next time. I’m done with all of this.”

Now he doubted that I was serious. “Whatever for? You’ve done so well.”

“At boosting your image. That’s why you want to keep me.”

“Not true. We’ve done all sorts of great things together. If you want more pay—”

“I want to be done with this,” I interrupted, trying to keep my cool. “And I hope you aren’t going to try and stop me.”

He rolled his eyes behind the mask. “Of course not. But you’re being completely unreasonable! Look at the gold you’ve made. Look at the good you’ve done! Look at the poor you’ve helped. Look at the corrupt you’ve brought in line.”

“Through selfish, immoral, and illegal means.”

“Sometimes justice has a cost. Sometimes it requires sacrifice and unpleasant deeds. But the greater good justifies those tough choices.”

Tough choices. I stared, at a loss for words, suddenly having the surreal sensation that I could have been standing in front of my father. And that, I realized, was exactly how I’d been behaving. I’d hated what my father had asked me to do. But I’d always felt guilty for walking away when I could have possibly done something to help others. Tom had provided a redemption, a chance to strike out against those who’d take advantage of others. I’d believed I was fighting for justice in a new way. A better way. But at its heart, it was the same: a crusade that made its own rules and, no matter how extreme, found a way to justify them—even at the expense of others. Tom was as blind as my father had been.

“Thank you,” I said softly. “Thank you for helping me realize that this has never been my path, that I have to find a new one and stop repeating the past.”

His eyebrows knit in confusion. “You’re not making any sense.”

“I want to make the world safe. I want to protect others. But not this way. Not by picking and choosing rules. Not by making a profit on the side. I appreciate what you’ve done for me, but I really am finished here. And I don’t plan on ever seeing you again.”

I could tell Tom didn’t quite know how to react. He was used to being admired and fawned over. He didn’t get dismissed. “You’re making a mistake! What we do here is bigger than you realize. You have the chance to be part of something great. Others would kill for the chance I’m offering you.”

“Then let them. I’m sure they’ll be happy to hear you’ve got an opening.”

Tom thrust the coins into my hand and jerked the door open. “Go,” he said, pointing. “Enjoy your money. You earned it. I’m glad your high morals don’t interfere with you reaping the rewards of ‘picking and choosing rules.’”

His words and smug expression felt like a slap to the face. I stared down at the coins. Fifty gold. The rest of Lonzo’s bond. But it was fifty gold stolen from someone else’s pocket. Fifty gold that nearly cost a ship full of sailors their lives. And what kind of men was that dangerous cargo being sold to?

Lonzo, forgive me. But I know you wouldn’t want it this way.

I turned my hands and let the coins clatter to the floor.

“Farewell, Tom.”

I left the Dancing Bull with my head held high, keeping my expression imperious and detached. Inside, I still couldn’t believe I’d let the money go when Lonzo was still tied to a dangerous job. Did it really matter how he got the money? Yes. Yes, it did. I had any number of other ways to get the rest. Rupert. Grant. After all, I was a girl who made her own options when no others were there.




I went back to Grant the next night. And the night after that. And the night after that.

The only night I didn’t go to him was when he had a patrol, and I was surprised at how keenly I missed . . . what? What was it I missed? What we did in bed? Or did I maybe just miss him?

Cornelius Chambers invited me to tea that afternoon, and I endured his and Lavinia’s not-so-subtle suggestions about how my contract would be coming due soon and how amazing their southern beach house was. Rupert listened with amusement and told me as I was departing, “Don’t let them bully you, my dear. Fight until the end.”

I held those words in my heart on the ride back home. They emboldened me—at least until dinner at Wisteria Hollow, when Jasper casually said to Charles, “Good news at last. I received a message from Warren Doyle today. He feels terrible about the incident and has offered to make up the loss to us by paying Tamsin’s marriage price.”

The fork dropped out of my hand and hit the plate with a clang. Everyone turned and stared. “I . . . excuse me.” I shoved my chair back and jumped to my feet. “I don’t feel well.”

I hurried upstairs and covered my mouth to keep from screaming. I wanted to go back downstairs and rip Jasper Thorn apart, just as my heart had been. He feels terrible about the incident and has offered to make up the loss to us by paying Tamsin’s marriage price. There was no price in this world that could make up for her loss! But why should I be surprised Jasper wouldn’t see it that way? He hadn’t even been willing to lend Cedric any money to marry Adelaide. Why should one girl matter more than his own son?