since he’d returned from the Afghan Wars he’d been a changed man, no longer the cheerful boy who’d entered the army expecting a great adventure.
“Where is he?”
“Abed, my lord.”
It was four in the afternoon. The younger brother he knew rose with the birds and was out riding by the time the sun was full. “Is he ill?”
“I do not believe so, my lord.” Richmond was an excellent servant—he anticipated his master’s every need. “He is in the blue room at the end of the hallway.”
Benedick took the steps two at a time, his long legs eating up the distance, irritation and worry fighting for dominance. Irritation won. When he reached the bedroom at the far end of the second-floor hallway he flung open the door without knocking, strode into the Stygian darkness and flung open the curtain, letting in the bright afternoon light.
The figure sprawled out on the bed didn’t move, and he knew an instant’s dread, one he refused to consider. He went over and yanked back the cover to find his baby brother lying there, still in his breeches, his back rising and falling.
He was too thin. The scars on the left side of his torso were healing slowly, but Benedick knew how pity scourged a man, and he refused to feel any. “Wake up, you miserable reprobate, and tell me what the hell you’re doing here.”
“Go ’way,” Brandon muttered thickly, his face buried in the pillows.
“Not likely—this is my house you’ve chosen to usurp. Why aren’t you in Scotland?”
Slowly Brandon rolled over, and even in the shadowed light of the bedroom he could see the ruin of his once-handsome face. The mortar that had killed his commanding officer and seven of his comrades had only taken half of Lord Brandon Rohan’s pretty face, turning it into a horror of torn flesh that even now managed to both break Benedick’s heart and enrage him. For some strange reason he felt he should have been able to protect his headstrong younger brother, kept this disaster at bay. Though, if their father had refused to buy him colors, Brandon would have run off and enlisted. He had been army mad, determined to become a hero.
He was a hero, indeed. And a shell of a man.
“Looked your fill, Neddie?” Brandon used the old nickname that only his brothers were allowed. “Lovely, aren’t I?”
“It’s healing,” he said without sympathy. “What are you doing abed at this hour?”
“Don’t you think I’m better off being a night creature? Who wants to look at this in broad daylight?”
“I never thought you were one for self-pity,” Benedick said scathingly.
Brandon’s mouth twisted in a parody of a smile. “Trust me, brother mine, I have been experimenting with all sorts of things that are new to me.” He sat up, swinging his legs over the side of the bed. “I suppose you’re going to write mother and father and tell them I never went to Scotland.”
“Why should I? They’ll only worry, and I know full well what a trial their concern can be. If they only visited in on you then you would be well served, but I expect they’d fuss over me, as well. So no, baby brother, I shan’t tell on you. Is that why you chose my house over the family manse in Bury Street? So no one would rat on you?”
Brandon’s smile was without humor. “You know me well. As I do you. There’s no way you’re going to allow me to catch a few more hours of sleep, is there?”
“Not likely. Where were you that you returned home so late?”
“None of your damned business,” Brandon said sweetly, and for a brief moment Benedick remembered when that sweetness had been real. “I have friends.”
“I expect you do. Anyone I know?”
“Doubtless. But you’re not invited.”
“Not invited where?”
“None of your damned business.”
“Are we going to keep going round and round?” Benedick demanded.
“As long as you keep asking me questions I have no intention of answering. Don’t worry—I’ll remove to a hotel while I find rooms…”
“Take a damper, Brandon,” Benedick said irritably. “You’ll stay here. In truth, I don’t give a damn what you do as long as you don’t interfere with my plans for the next fortnight.”
“And what plans are those?”
“I plan to get engaged. And to indulge in all manner of acts of sexual gratification.”
“Presumably not with the same female…and I trust you’re restricting yourself only to females?” There was an odd languor about Brandon, the faint teasing in the questions almost pro forma.
Benedick fought