“Alive,”Wolf repeated, looking as awestruck as Hart still felt.
Jasper shook his head. “I don’t believe it.”
“I saw him with my own bleeding eyes,” Hart said.
“How?” Lily asked.
“Loge is alive.” Rafe appeared equally stunned.
“And well from what I could see.” He had summoned his siblings for a meeting the moment he had returned, in a state of disbelief. Caro and Pen had yet to arrive, but he had been unable to wait a moment more before relaying the news.
He had suspected Logan was alive, it was true. He had hoped and prayed over the course of so many days since he had last seen his brother. But never, in Hart’s wildest imaginings, had he supposed he would find his missing brother right here in the East End. Nor had he reckoned Loge would be so cold and unmoved to see him. That he would tell him to go, to forget all about him.
Your brother is dead.
The hell he was.
Hart was going to find out what had damn well happened.
“If he’s alive, where the devil has he been?” Jasper demanded.
“That’s a question for our brother, and at the moment, he ain’t answering any bleeding questions.” Hart passed a hand along his jaw, rubbing it, for he had been clenching it so hard, it ached. “He told me my brother is dead and I ought to forget him, and then he ordered the door closed on me.”
“If Loge is alive, why didn’t Tierney tell you from the first?” Wolf asked. “Why not admit the truth instead of sending you after the Earl of Haldringham? There has to be a reason.”
“Tierney intentionally led me in the wrong direction,” he acknowledged, for that much was obvious by now. “But for what purpose, I can’t say.”
Hart was willing to wager it was something dangerous. The only reason he could comprehend for his brother cutting ties with them, nary a word of warning, and then telling Hart to forget about him, was that a plot was afoot that was not just dangerous, but lethal. Clearly, he had not been wrong to listen to the whispers at The Beggar’s Purse which had led him to Archer Tierney. But as for what had happened or why, only time—and Loge—could tell.
“You said he’s using a new name,” Jasper interjected, his voice matter-of-fact as he slid effortlessly into the role of leader. As the eldest of them all, it was the place he inhabited most. “What’s the name?”
“Martin,” he answered. “Mr. Martin was all I managed to get from the bleeding guard before the two of them barred the door.”
His brother nodded. “It is a place to start. I’ll begin having the lads see if they can find anyone who squeaks. Ought to be someone willing, especially if enough coin greases their palms. Someone will know something. I can’t believe Loge’s been here beneath our noses all this time without someone seeing him.”
“We have seen him,” Rafe reminded their eldest brother gently. “We told you we’d seen him. You were too bloody stubborn to believe it.”
In the time since Loge had vanished without word, several of them had fleetingly glimpsed shadowy figures who looked like their brother. Hell, even Jasper’s wife Octavia had been saved from a madwoman intent on doing her harm by a mysterious man she had vowed looked like Jasper. More than ever, Hart was convinced it had been Loge. Nothing else made sense.
“You’re right, damn you.” Jasper sighed, the sound weary. “I was too afraid to hope he was alive.”
“Regardless of the why or how, you can’t deny Loge did you a favor by sending you after Haldringham,” Lily pointed out, her expression turning pensive. “Otherwise, you’d never have met Lady Emma.”
Ah, Emma. His love. He was bleeding lucky indeed she’d forgiven him and had agreed to become his wife. Now all he needed to do was make certain everything was done properly to protect both Emma and her sisters from further scandal.
“You’re grinning like a damned Bedlamite again,” Wolf observed, a tinge of scorn in his voice.
“What can I say? Lady Emma makes me bleeding happy.”
“That reminds me, lad. You’re supposed to be courting about now, eh?” Jasper asked.
Damn.
He extricated his pocket watch and realized he was indeed going to be late to pay his call. “Why do the quality have such stupid bleeding rules?”
Although he was not particularly pleased to have to court the woman he loved in traditional fashion, he was willing to do anything to make her his. Even if it meant dancing attendance on her like a Mayfair fop.
“Because they’re touched in the head,” Wolf muttered. “You’ll not be seeing me falling in love with a bloody lady.”
“I wouldn’t be so certain of that if I were you,” he warned his brother. “Love hits you when you least expect it.”
“Rather in the fashion of a fist to the old dial plate,” Rafe joked, grinning.
Their banter and levity faded as silence descended, the specter of Loge descending once more.
“What are we going to do about Loge, aside from setting your men on Mr. Martin’s trail?” he asked Jasper. “Surely we must do something.”
Jasper inclined his head. “I’ll work on Tierney. We won’t stop until we have some bloody answers.”
“And our brother back,” Hart added.
“Aye,” said Wolf, his countenance grim.
Suttons, it went without saying, took care of their own.
* * *