The Edge of Desire (Bastion Club 7)

Engaged in scrounging breakfast himself, Christian asked, “As I found Barton in the street just now, I take it he beat a hasty retreat?”

Letitia glowered. “He did once I’d finished with him.”

Christian helped himself to the ham Agnes passed him. “He apparently swears by the old saw that the murderer always, eventually, returns to the scene of the crime.”

Addressing herself to a mound of kedgeree, Letitia sniffed. “So I gathered.”

They all ate for some moments in silence. Then the footman returned with a fresh pot of coffee. Letitia dismissed him once he’d set the pot down. “Please close the door after you, Martin.”

The instant the door clicked shut, she looked at Christian. “Have you found Justin?”

She’d kept her voice low.

Christian shook his head. Sitting back, he set down his knife. “We’ve searched in all the likely places and found no sign. Last night it occurred to me that I might have been going about our search the wrong way.”

She frowned. “How so?”

By not taking sufficient account of Vaux intelligence. Something he’d been guilty of in other respects. He picked up the coffee cup Agnes had filled for him; she and Hermione were as eager as Letitia to hear his report. “As I said, we’ve been hunting for your brother everywhere one might expect to find him, to no avail.” He took a sip of coffee, then caught Letitia’s eye. “I thought perhaps it was time to ask where the very last place you’d think to find him would be.”

Hermione, also frowning, said, “You mean the place he’d be least likely to go?”

Christian nodded.

Letitia’s face cleared. She exchanged a glance with Hermione, then shrugged. “Nunchance. That’s the one place you can be certain he won’t be.”

Christian saw the light. “Yes, of course. I understand he’s had a falling out with your father.”

Letitia’s lashes screened her eyes. “You might say that.”

From her tone, he surmised it would be fruitless to ask why.

Puzzling over his words, she fixed him with a frown. “But I can’t see how that gets you any further. Justin definitely won’t be at Nunchance.” She hesitated, then—perhaps because he hadn’t asked—consented to explain. “My father has grown rather worse with the years.”

Recognizing the wisdom of telling him enough so he would understand that Justin really wouldn’t be at Nunchance Priory, their family estate, Letitia hunted for the right words. “Some years ago something occurred that set Justin at loggerheads with Papa. Unfortunately, my marriage to Randall only added to the tension. Rather than fading over time, as I’d hoped, that tension escalated to a major rift, to the point where now they can’t be in the same room without coming to verbal blows. No, even worse than that—flaming rows the like of which even our family hasn’t seen for generations.”

She held Christian’s eyes. “You know what they’re like. They’re quite capable of tearing strips off each other, lacerating and painful, and they’re equally stubborn, so there’s no hope of reconciliation because neither will back down.”

Reaching for her teacup, she shrugged. “Over the last years, Justin has only visited Nunchance at Christmas, and then only for a fleeting visit on the day, to see me and Hermione and the rest of the family. I honestly don’t think he and Papa have exchanged a civil word in all that time.”

Sipping her tea, she considered the possibility that Justin might have sought refuge at Nunchance—perhaps staying out of their father’s sight—but she couldn’t see him being that cautious. More specifically she couldn’t see him reining in his pride to that extent, enough to hide like a felon in his family home. She shook her head and set down her cup. “Wherever Justin’s gone, he won’t be at Nunchance.”

Turning her head, she arched a brow at Christian. “So what are you planning?”

He met her gaze briefly, then looked across the table—at Hermione. Her sister remained oblivious, busy slathering marmalade on her toast.

“I have various avenues to pursue—I’ll let you know if I hear anything promising.” His gray gaze returned to her face. “Incidentally, everything we’ve uncovered about your brother’s life since we last spoke has confirmed his…somewhat novel direction. Far from being a wastrel and a hellion, he’s a son to make any father proud.”

Letitia merely nodded, wondering where he was heading with that comment—where he was trying to lead her.

He held her gaze, unhurriedly searching her eyes. “You don’t seem all that surprised that Justin should be the antithesis of his reputation.”

Ah. That was where he was heading. She smiled. “As a loving older sister, I can only rejoice at his exemplary sense.”

“Indeed. But you also know why Justin is as he really is.” He arc

hed a brow at her. “I don’t suppose you’d care to enlighten me?”

She held his gaze, then shook her head. “Knowing that won’t help you find Justin.”