Britain in 1831 was very different from the Britain of only a year earlier.
From 1807 to 1830, the Tory Party had ruled for an astonishing twenty-three years. Now it had fallen back into opposition.
And even that statistic didn't tell the whole story.
The Whigs had held power briefly from 1806 to 1807—barely a year. If one traced the timeline further back to the days when William Pitt the Younger dominated government, the Tories had effectively governed Britain for nearly half a century.
With such a long-standing balance of power suddenly overturned, it was inevitable that the country would become turbulent.
My father—the Earl of Arran—was busy trying to determine what this political upheaval would mean for our family. As a result, he was away from the estate more often than not.
I decided the opportunity had arrived.
I invited Lord Wellesley to the house and deliberately arranged matters so that James would remain behind to serve him as a guest.
Naturally, James suspected nothing.
He escorted Lord Charles to my room.
"Master Killian," James announced politely, "Lord Charles Wellesley has arrived."
"Good," I said. "Lord Wellesley, please have a seat. James—you sit as well."
"Would it not be better if I left you two to converse?" James suggested. "I've just received some excellent tea. I could bring some."
"No tea," I said calmly. "Today Lord Wellesley and I both have something to discuss with you."
Lord Charles grinned and gestured toward the chair beside him.
With no excuse left, James awkwardly sat down.
"Very well," I said. "Lord Wellesley, did you bring the materials I asked for?"
"Of course," he said cheerfully. "Honestly, thanks to this I've been enjoying life lately. Not investing in American land when you first suggested it still stings—but now that I've started buying regularly, the profits from the gambling house make it feel like I'm catching up."
"In the beginning we didn't have much capital anyway," I replied calmly. "Even if the investment tripled, the absolute gain wasn't that large. The real profits are still ahead."
"Yes, yes," Lord Charles said with enthusiasm. "I trust you completely, Killian. These days I sometimes feel like every wealthy man in London is visiting our gambling house. Expanding into the building next door and turning it into a VIP club was brilliant. The word 'VIP' alone seems to enchant people."
James blinked in confusion.
"…A gambling house? What are you two talking about? And what do you mean by investing in American land?"
"James," I said, "you heard that the gambling house where we first met Lord Wellesley last year was purchased by him, didn't you?"
"Yes… I did hear that."
"Well, half of it belongs to me," I said calmly. "More precisely, we're business partners. And we've been using the profits to buy land in Chicago."
"…What?"
James stared at us in disbelief.
"Business partners? But why would Lord Wellesley run a gambling house with someone as young as you, Master Killian?"
Rather than explaining, I handed him a set of documents.
They contained a clear summary of the gambling house's recent profits, along with reports showing the rising value of the American properties we had purchased.
"This," I said simply, "is the answer."
James looked down at the numbers.
His eyes widened.
The figures spoke for themselves.
After a long silence, he finally spoke.
"Master Killian… I believe this requires a very long explanation. First of all—does the Earl know about this?"
"No."
James froze.
"The only people who know are Lord Wellesley and you."
"…Why?"
"Lord Wellesley must know because he's my partner. And you must know because I want you to act on my behalf from now on."
Even with Lord Wellesley acting as my public shield, I couldn't entrust everything to him.
As a nobleman himself, there were limits to where he could appear openly.
I needed someone who could handle the unpleasant work.
Someone capable of operating in the shadows.
And there was no one better suited than James.
"Don't misunderstand," I continued calmly. "I'm not planning anything illegal. But if someone like me—a half-Asian, illegitimate Irish noble—appears too openly, it could attract unnecessary attention. And I'm still very young. Until I can speak with authority in politics, I'd prefer to remain unnoticed."
"If that's the case," James said carefully, "shouldn't the Earl be informed?"
"When the time is right, he will be," I said. "But only when I'm certain the information won't spread to relatives or political circles."
James hesitated.
"The Earl loves you dearly. He wouldn't intentionally harm your interests."
"I know," I replied quietly.
But love was not the issue.
My father was deeply connected to countless people in society and politics. Especially now, when he was working to secure my legal inheritance, caution was essential.
I had learned that lesson once already—in my previous life.
One fatal mistake had been enough.
"So," I continued, "the fewer people who know the truth, the better. That's why it took time before telling you."
James frowned slightly.
"And what preparation did you require?"
"To become certain that you wouldn't refuse."
"…If all of this truly came from your mind, Master Killian, it is extraordinary. But… the gambling house's income really tripled in a single year?"
"Exactly!" Lord Charles burst in enthusiastically. "James, your young master is a genius when it comes to making money. Give him money and it simply multiplies!"
I allowed him to boast on my behalf.
It was more convincing than anything I could say myself.
"And it was Master Killian who suggested both the gambling business and the American land investments?" James asked slowly.
"Absolutely," Lord Charles replied. "The American land I doubted at first—but the prices are skyrocketing exactly as he predicted. And as for the gambling house, Killian has completely reinvented how they operate. Soon every gambling house in London will copy his model."
James studied the documents again.
But the numbers did not change.
Nor did Lord Wellesley's confidence.
In truth, much of this success had been luck.
But gambling was one field where I possessed genuine expertise.
Aside from fraud—my former profession—gambling was the subject I understood most thoroughly.
I knew exactly how modern casinos operated.
In contrast, gambling houses in this era were primitive—disorganized, inefficient, and poorly managed.
All I had done was introduce modern casino management.
And the profits had exploded.
"Then your plan," James said slowly, "is to dominate every gambling house in London?"
"No," I replied. "This is merely a tool to generate cash. In a few years we'll sell them all."
Historically, such establishments would eventually be outlawed.
I didn't remember the exact year, but it would certainly happen before mid-century.
My plan was simple.
Sell everything by 1840.
Lord Wellesley believed it was merely because a future statesman should not be associated with gambling.
In truth, I was simply exiting before the law arrived.
James took a deep breath.
"…Then what exactly do you intend to do?"
"The truth?"
I leaned back slightly.
"James, I realized something during my first year in England."
"The height I can reach here is limited."
I continued calmly.
"Yes, I'm a nobleman. But English nobles openly look down on the Irish. And I'm half Asian besides. The ceiling above me is obvious."
Lord Charles quickly added,
"Well, I certainly don't think that way."
I smiled.
"I know."
Then I turned back to James.
"That's why I'm preparing in advance. Simply inheriting my father's earldom will never be enough."
"…That is true," James admitted.
"And you," I continued softly, "are not someone who wishes to remain a household steward forever."
James stiffened.
"What I want from you is to act as my representative. And such responsibility comes with equally substantial rewards."
For a man born as an illegitimate son of a noble family, denied inheritance and recognition, the offer was irresistible.
I pressed gently on the wound hidden deep inside him.
"James, I know exactly how you've lived. The frustration of having ability without recognition—only someone who has experienced it can understand. That's why we can become excellent partners."
He lowered his gaze.
"So come with me," I said quietly.
"Let's play in deeper waters."
After a long pause, James asked:
"You said the gambling house is only a means of generating cash. What comes next?"
Good.
He had already crossed the line.
"First," I said, "Lord Wellesley and I intend to create an information network."
"London is where Britain's wealth gathers. And where wealth gathers, manipulation follows."
I smiled faintly.
"So why shouldn't we take money from the people who manipulate it?"
James stared.
"…Did you acquire the gambling house the same way?"
"Yes."
"But that was mostly luck. To make this truly effective, we need a professional organization dedicated to gathering information."
"However," I continued, "we cannot operate openly. The organization will have a respectable front. James—I want you to serve as the official head of both the gambling house and the new company."
"An intelligence network…" James murmured thoughtfully. "There are already some individuals in London who investigate crimes and sell information about thieves and criminals."
Perfect.
That was exactly the direction I intended.
What I envisioned was something like a modern detective agency.
Such institutions would eventually appear in Britain and America later in the nineteenth century.
Demand clearly existed.
If used correctly, such an organization could gather intelligence—and generate enormous profit.
James studied me for a long moment.
Then he stood and bowed deeply.
"I will accept the opportunity you have given me, Master Killian."
"You will one day inherit this earldom. I shall serve you with the same loyalty I show the Earl."
He hesitated.
"Though I still cannot understand how an eleven-year-old could conceive of all this."
"You made the right choice," I said with satisfaction.
"You won't regret it."
James immediately began analyzing the plan.
"The idea is sound. In fact, two years ago Sir Robert Peel established the Metropolitan Police. Since then the old thief-takers and Bow Street Runners have been losing influence. Recruiting them would give us experienced personnel."
I hadn't even considered that.
This was precisely why capable subordinates were essential.
My strength lay in broad strategy.
James excelled at details.
Together we were an ideal combination.
"Very well," I said. "I'll leave the implementation to you. I have an important meeting tomorrow."
"A meeting?"
James blinked.
"Oh—that's right. Your interview with Dr. John Keate, the headmaster of Eton."
"Yes," I said.
"Lord Wellesley wished to visit his old school, so he'll accompany me."
The school visit was merely an excuse.
In truth, he was delivering a message from the Duke of Wellington.
James understood without explanation.
"In that case," he said, "I will begin working on the organization. But once you enter Eton, you won't be able to move freely outside. Are you certain this plan will still work?"
"That's exactly why I'm appointing you as my agent."
James suddenly smiled.
"Ah… I see. You had already planned for that."
Students at Eton followed strict schedules and had little free time.
But the studies of early teenagers posed no challenge to me.
And the prestige of attending Eton would provide enormous advantages.
James would visit regularly in his capacity as the household steward.
No one would find that unusual.
And each visit would allow me to direct our operations.
No one would ever suspect the quiet Irish boy studying at Eton of controlling anything in London.
Outwardly:
A diligent young Irish noble striving to overcome his birth.
In reality:
The hidden leader of a rising organization within London's gray underworld.
For now, my task was simple.
Establish both identities.
And make certain that no one ever connected the two.
Fortunately…
Living multiple lives had always been my greatest talent.