Never Love a Scoundrel by Darcy Burke

times had he taunted that he should have been born as their father’s heir? That Father would’ve preferred it that way.
    Carlyle’s eyes flashed with irritation. “Who are you to say what he deserved? And shouldn’t a man try to better himself, improve his station in life?” It was the sentiment of a man who hadn’t been born to privilege.
    “Legally . ” Jason stretched his fingers in an effort to release the building tension in his frame. “Ethan has always looked for the easy way to get ahead.”
    Carlyle briefly drummed his fingertips lightly against the edge of his desk. “I wonder what drove him to do that.”
    “Greed?” Jason was losing patience with Carlyle’s attitude. “His mother was a whore who sold herself to the highest bidder. The minute our father died, she found a new protector—and it wasn’t as if she was desperate. My father provided for her.”
    “I see,” Carlyle said judiciously, revealing the patronizing forbearance of a lawman. Then he exhaled deeply. “I can see the old resentment between you runs deep, and I’m sorry for it. I only know your brother a little, but I would say that somewhere buried inside of him is a decent fellow trying to get out.”
    What if that were possible? What if Ethan was trying to change his fortune? What if he had made a series of bad choices and now found himself wanting to correct them? Jason couldn’t fathom it. The Ethan Jagger he knew was selfish, spoiled, and cruel.
    “I don’t know what he said or did to convince you of that,” Jason said, “but my experience with him is quite different. He taunted us—my mother and me—about how our father loved him more. He made sure we knew exactly what Father gave them, what he did with them, how he preferred them as a family to us, how Father said he should be the heir instead of me. Worst of all, he made sure my mother was aware of the love her husband felt toward his mistress. He was relentless, pushing her ever closer to insanity. There isn’t a decent fiber in his being.”
    “He was a boy then, wasn’t he? Surely he’s changed.”
    “His years as a criminal have somehow rehabilitated his soul?” Jason laughed as darkness swirled within him. His patience with this interview had expired, and he hadn’t even mentioned the robbery or discussed whether Ethan had been involved. He got to his feet. “Thank you for your time.”
    Carlyle also stood. He frowned again, but his features were creased with what Jason would characterize as genuine concern, as if the man cared about the brotherly drama playing out before him. “I’m not convinced Jagger’s motives are evil, and I again urge you not to draw any hasty conclusions about his appearance. For now.” His gaze turned dark and serious. “I assure you, if his activities are anything less than legal, I’ll be the first to drag him to Bow Street.”
    Ten minutes later, Jason made his way from the town house. He felt certain there were things Carlyle wasn’t telling him, but that only meant there was information to be gleaned. With North and Scot working their angles, and if he continued to work with Bow Street, he’d get to the meat of Ethan’s activities.
    Jason glanced down the street toward Lady Aldridge’s residence and froze. Coming toward him, an ivory bonnet trimmed with green framing her angelic face, was the only person in Society who’d encouraged him, at least for a few moments—Lady Lydia Prewitt.
    He considered hurrying into his coach, but to do so would have been blatantly rude. And despite Lady Lydia’s relationship to Margaret Rutherford, he couldn’t deny that he’d liked her.
    “Good afternoon, Lord Lockwood,” she called as she neared him. A footman trailed behind her at a discreet distance.
    He bowed. “Lady Lydia. We keep running into each other.” He noted that Aldridge House was just down the street. “Did you come from Lady Aldridge’s?”
    “Yes, but I’m afraid she’s still ill.” Her brow