“Did you break into my sister’s house? To steal the items, I mean.” Jack realized then that Rivington still had no idea that Jack had been Montbray’s valet at the time. Nicking a couple of snuff boxes and cravat pins had been no trouble at all. That had been before he opened this business—right before, in fact. “Oh, I have my ways,” he said. “Is that supposed to pique my curiosity?” Rivington’s demeanor was once again cold and bored. Jack hated that distant refinement, that cool bloodlessness that spoke of generations of breeding and piles of money. He wanted to replace that chilliness with
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