Heartless (The House of Rohan 5)

“I think you might prove the sticking point,” Brandon said.

The old man let out a wheezing chuckle. “We’ll never know until you ask. You haven’t yet, have you?”

“Not in so many words.”

“Dunderhead,” Noonan said.

“She left three days ago.” Melisande was glaring at him, his goddaughter snuggled against her ample breasts. Benedick said nothing, standing behind her, but Brandon didn’t give a damn if he was feeling guilty.

“And you didn’t see fit to inform me?” he demanded in a dangerous voice, bringing a swift frown to his brother’s face.

“I’ll remind you that’s my wife you’re addressing in such an uncivil manner,” Benedick growled. “And I’ve always been able to pound you into the ground if need be.”

Brandon wasted only a glance on him. “That was a long time ago. You forget—I was a soldier, you weren’t.”

Benedick’s face darkened, but he said nothing—both of them knew he’d had no choice, and it was a low blow, one that shamed Brandon not one whit. He would fight dirty if he needed to. He turned back to Melisande. “Where did she go?” he barked.

Benedick stirred restlessly, but Melisande faced him with cool restraint. “There’s no need asking—I won’t tell you. I promised her I wouldn’t. If she wanted to see you she wouldn’t have run.”

“Don’t be an idiot,” he snapped. “When it comes to me she does nothing but run, starting back when I was in hospital.”

Her mouth thinned. “I gather you finally remembered, you spoiled dolt!”

“Jesus Christ, does everyone in this household know my business?” he cried in frustration.

“We know Emma’s business,” Melisande corrected. “She’s one of our own, and you’re nothing but an outsider.”

“My dear. . .” Benedick began, his forehead creased, but Melisande was on a roll.

“You treated her like garbage,” she snapped. “She loved you, and you didn’t even have the grace to remember her, you stupid fool. She loved you.”

He wasn’t about to argue with another woman about this—it was Emma he had to convince. “Where did she go?” he ground out one more time.

“If she wants to be found then it will be up to her,” Melisande said. “In the meantime why don’t you get your sorry self to London? Your parents are returning from the Americas and could use your assistance.”

Brandon didn’t need to glance at Benedick to guess his reaction to such malarkey. “The day my father, or my mother, needs my assistance will be a cold day in hell,” Brandon muttered. He whirled to face his brother. “Can’t you make your wife tell me where she went?”

There was faint amusement in Benedick’s eyes. “I couldn’t if I tried,” he said, “and I’m smart enough not to even attempt it. You’re on your own with this one. Maybe our father will have some advice for you—I’ve got none.”

Punching a wall hadn’t helped his burned hands, neither had riding to London wearing an old pair of gardener’s gloves, the only thing that could fit around his bandages. He’d felt nothing but savage, impotent fury the entire way, and even Noonan had been hard pressed to keep up with him. It wasn’t until he looked at his mother’s clear, calm face that the rage left him, and he simply threw himself in her lap, shaking.

Charlotte Spenser Rohan stroked her youngest son’s long hair and murmured soothing words, while the slightly disreputable Marquess looked on with sympathetic amusement, catching her eye over their son’s bowed head.

“Love, my dear Charlotte, is a mean bitch,” he murmured, looking down at his son.

“Yes, my dear,” she said. “Do you not think it worth all the trouble?”

His eyes smiled into hers, glowing with a never-extinguished flame. “Allow me to answer that question when our little one goes to bed.”

Brandon pulled himself away from his mother’s gentle hands, glaring at both of them. “I don’t wish to disturb your indecent advances to each other, but I’m the one with the problem here,” he growled.

“So you are,” Adrian, first Marquess of Taverstock, agreed. “Go away and fix it. Your mother and I wish to continue our . . . er . . . discussion without an obstreperous child interfering.”

“Damn it!” he cried, pulling away to glare at his unrepentant father. “Don’t you understand? I’ve lost her!” Hopelessness washed over him. “I love her, and I’ve lost her.”

“So Benedick informs me. You rather botched it this time, didn’t you?” Adrian said smoothly. “Well, we all do stupid things on occasion, don’t we love?” He addressed his wife.

Charlotte’s mouth curled up in a cool, secretive smile. “A little patience will go a long way, Brandon. Give her time. She sounds like a sensible woman. If you’re worthy of her she’ll come back.”