Heartless (The House of Rohan 5)
“You would not, and you know it. You’re a ridiculously understanding mistress.”
Melisande didn’t deny it. “Not when they put my dearest friend in danger. But you’re insisting this was entirely random?”
“What else could it be?” Emma said faintly.
“Then perhaps you could tell me what in the world is going on between you and my brother-in-law.”
The question shouldn’t have been unexpected, but it felt like a blow. Fortunately, she was qui
ck to recover. “I’ve never met Lord Charles before in my life,” she said, pleased with her own cleverness. “Don’t imagine intrigue where there is none—he’s not some shadow from my working years returned to embarrass me.”
“Of course he’s not—Charles is too stiff, and not in the right way, to ever take himself to a brothel.”
“We’re really having a lowering effect on your language,” Emma said, shaking her head.
“To hell with my language. You know perfectly well I’m not talking about stuffy old Charles. I’m talking about Brandon. And you. What in the world is going on? He was more than politely concerned about you—why, he spent the rest of the evening pacing, refused to come to dinner, avoiding everybody. When I went to look for him he was down in the servants’ hall, questioning the servants.”
She did her best to ignore the treacherously warm feeling that filled her. “Don’t go imagining things, Melly. There’s nothing between us. I imagine he was simply concerned that someone had been hurt. Truly, I’ve never seen Lord Brandon before he arrived.”
“Liar,” Melisande announced succinctly. “I may have been in distress at the time, but I know perfectly well you saved his life that awful night three years ago. You stopped him from hanging himself. Did you think Benedick wouldn’t have told me? Brandon thought it was some angel who’d come, and I didn’t bother to disabuse him of the notion.”
Emma didn’t blush—she had grown skilled at schooling any errant emotions. So he’d remembered that much, had he? What else had come back to him? Clearly not enough. “I prefer not to talk about it.”
“Aha! That proves there’s something more to it! If you simply met him then, there’s no reason you would want to avoid the subject. What is it between you and Brandon?”
Emma sighed with false ennui. “Nothing! How could there be? As it is, I only saw him that one time and he was barely conscious. He has no memory of me, and I have only the faintest recollection of him.” The moment she spoke she cursed herself. If she’d had her wits about her she could have said “Oh, is that the man I helped?” in an artless tone. Not that it would have done any good—her friend knew her too well.
“I doubt you’re disgruntled about that,” Melisande said judiciously. “And now that I think of it, you’ve always seemed a bit more interested when we’ve discussed Brandon than anything we’ve said about Charles or Miranda or their parents.”
“Well, isn’t that only logical? I hadn’t met the others.”
Melisande was like a terrier with a rat, and she wasn’t about to let go easily. “You met his parents at my wedding, you met Miranda and the Scorpion when everything exploded with the Heavenly Host. Charles is the only other one you’d never seen before—he wasn’t sure he approved of me enough to make the journey to our wedding, so that won’t wash. You’ve been on edge ever since the christening, when Brandon arrived, and you ran off when Charles mentioned Brandon’s fiancée.”
“I hadn’t realized he was betrothed. It surprised me.”
“He’s not betrothed!” Melisande corrected her automatically. “And simple surprise isn’t enough to make you go haring off in a storm like that. Not only is he not engaged to that pathetic little girl, I doubt he ever intends to do such a thing, ever. This is just some scheme that Charles has cooked up. I told Benedick he needed to put a stop to it, but you know Benedick. He’s the opposite of Charles—he doesn’t want to interfere.”
“It scarcely matters. Your brothers’ matrimonial plans have nothing to do with me,” Emma said.
“I wonder.” Melisande was eying her speculatively. “In the end it’s just as well, I suppose. Brandon will simply say no, and Charles will sulk. There’s no way Charles can compel him to do anything. I’m sure Miss Bonham will be much relieved—she looked quite terrified when she saw Brandon, and he deserves better than that. It will be up to us to make the poor girl feel comfortable. Charles hinted there was some sort of scandal attached to her name—well, there’d have to be, wouldn’t there? For her to come out here to meet an unknown fiancé? She and her companion are very close, but we must do our best to help the situation.”
“I need to get back to London, today. I’m sure you’ll provide excellent support, and the smaller this house party is, the better.”
“You’re not going anywhere,” Melisande said firmly. “Not until you can provide me with a good enough reason.”
Emma couldn’t still a desperate laugh. “You can’t keep me hostage here, Melly.”
“Of course I can. I have the Rohans at my back. So tell me why you ran. Why you’re still so desperate to run. It’s not like you—you’re the bravest woman I know.”
“Hardly,” Emma said, but she knew that look on her friend’s face, that stubborn, determined expression. Melisande’s determination had served her well in the face of public disapproval—she had established the Dovecote, both here and in London, she had embraced a former whore and madam without question, giving Emma her first experience with unqualified love and acceptance. Emma owed her the truth, or at least a good portion of it.
“Perhaps I. . . might have met Lord Brandon before that night he tried to hang himself,” she said carefully.
Melisande’s eyes lit up. “Oh, my goodness! Never tell me he was one of your customers? I gather he was quite the wild one before he went into the army, giving his dissolute ancestors a run for their money. I’ve even had a hint or two that he was a favorite of the ladies. Apparently, he was particularly adept with his. . .”
“No!” Emma said in a strangled voice. “He was never one of my. . . um. . .”
Melisande sat back, staring at her. “Why are you being so missish?”