Heartless (The House of Rohan 5)

“Darling, you shouldn’t be up!” Melisande greeted her when Emma wandered into the small green salon. Young Adrian was playing at her feet, entranced with a set of wooden blocks, and Alexandra Emma lay curled in her mother’s arms. “Surely you aren’t still intending to leave? Only two days ago you were attacked and almost killed.”

“But I wasn’t killed,” she said, squatting down besides Adrian and handing him a block, accepting his toothy smile as reward. “I had a restful day yesterday, a good night’s sleep, and I’m more than ready to get on the road. I have work to do.

“What about Brandon?”

“What about him?” Emma said innocently.

Melisande wasn’t so easily distracted. “I don’t suppose he’s remembered you yet, has he?”

It had taken years of practice, but Emma knew how to keep her expression serene and unruffled. “I hadn’t thought about it,” she said airily. “It doesn’t matter, Melly. You’re making a romance where there is none, and he’s engaged to be married. Really, I can’t put off leaving any longer—I must return to the city. I can’t leave the women in town to the tender mercies of Butcher Fenrush.”

Melisande laughed, distracted. “Do you think he’s going to be a problem? Being replaced by anyone is always difficult, by a woman is worse, though I agree with Benedick’s decision completely. Sooner or later he was going to kill a patient.”

“He kills patients every week,” Emma said. “It’s the only reason I agreed to Benedick’s high-handed decision, and I have no intention of staying in charge any longer than it takes to find a more suitable surgeon. The sooner I get back the sooner things will settle down.”

“All right,” Melisande said, giving in more easily than Emma would have expected. “In fact, that should work out quite well. Brandon plans to leave for London today as well. You can travel together.”

“Oh, God, no!” she cried before she could stop herself. She cleared her throat, trying to sound more reasonable. “I wouldn’t want to be a burden. I’m certain Lord Brandon would prefer not to have a female on his hands.”

“Lord Brandon, as you so formally call him, would be more than happy to assist you. He has a great deal of penance yet to perform, and looking after you. . .

“I don’t need looking after!” Emma’s voice was fierce.

“Of course you don’t,” Melisande agreed. “But men like to think they’re useful, and it would help Brandon put the past behind him.”

“I think he’s already managed that quite well. His upcoming marriage is proof of that. Where is he, by the way?”

She didn’t like Melisande’s sly grin. “Miss him already, do you?” The grin faded when she saw Emma’s stony expression. “Did something happen between you two?”

“Of course not. Nothing ever would. We are far removed on the social scale—he’s a peer, I’m a. . .” she remembered Melisande’s slap and amended her words “. . .a working woman. There is no common ground, and our history is just that. Over for me, already forgotten for him.”

“So why are you running away?” Melisande asked calmly.

In fact, she didn’t have to leave. If Brandon truly was heading to London, then she was better off here in the country. Danger seemed to come from all sorts of unexpected directions—at least here she wouldn’t risk running into Brandon.

She was being absurd, she reminded herself. London was a vast, sprawling city, and they would travel in much different circles. This wasn’t her life—she needed to get back to her shabby rooms, her work, her place in the world, to deal with Butcher Fenrush and move on. Those things were what she needed to ground her, remind her who she was, to sweep away any errant fantasies and dreams.

“I’m not,” she said. “If I was trying to get away from Lord Brandon . . . Mr. Rohan,” she amended, too aware of Melisande’s scrutiny, “then staying here would be the wiser choice. But I have to get back.”

“I see,” Melisande said, and Emma was afraid that she did. “Well, it is his loss.”

“Life is full of losses.”

Melisande rolled her eyes. “Leave off, Mrs. Siddons! Life is a healthy mix of joy and sorrow, and if you didn’t spend your time running away you’d realize it.”

This was far worse than the much-needed slap. “I don’t run away!” she insisted in a raw voice. “I’m no coward.”

“No? What are you doing right now? You’ve been trying to get away from here the moment you set eyes on Brandon, because he makes you feel. You’ve been able to divert all your love and caring to the women who’ve suffered as you did, as long as you keep everyone else at arm’s length.”

“I haven’t kept you at arm’s length,” Emma said stiffly. “Perhaps I should have.”

Melisande didn’t relent. “I’m safe to love. The Gaggle is safe, my children are safe, even Benedick is safe for you to let down your guard. And that guard is formidable. Brandon somehow managed to get past it at some point, and you’re terrified. Don’t run, Emma! Stay and face him, face your own feelings! What’s the worst that can happen? Do you have a heart left to break?”

The pain from Melisande’s words was so sharp it took her breath away. She stood frozen, staring at her best friend, when the door to the salon opened and Benedick strode in. Behind him, Brandon stood in the doorway.

“Up so early?” Benedick greeted Emma, coming over and giving her a kiss on the cheek. “Shouldn’t you be resting?”

“Emma must get back to the city, my love,” Melisande announced before Emma could say anything. “She’s needed at the hospital. She has to deal with Mr. Fenrush.”