echoed, incensed. “He’s never going to touch that filthy stuff again.”
The doctor looked at her sadly. “In my experience, my lady, that’s seldom the case. He’s a habitual user, and while I imagine he started as a response to the pain of his injuries, he now uses it to shut out the world, and it’s hard to bring someone back from that. Apart from his addiction, he’s in one piece. No injuries, broken bones or the like.”
“And the blood?” Lucien spoke then, and the man lifted his head.
“I saw no blood, my lord,” he said calmly.
Lucien nodded. “You’ll be taken care of as per usual.”
Benedick’s annoyance grew. “He’s my brother. I’ll take care of any remuneration. If you’ll tell me where to have it sent, Doctor…?” He waited for the man to supply his name, but the doctor looked from the Scorpion back to him, and shrugged.
“We’re better off without names,” he said gently. “And the Scorpion knows how to get in touch with me. I leave it to you two gentlemen to sort out who pays.” There was a cynical twist to his mouth, before he turned to Miranda and put a gentle hand on her head as she sat beside Brandon, clutching his thin hand in hers. “Don’t worry, dear lady. He’ll be better soon. And then you may begin the hard work of convincing him to stay away from the opium. I wish you luck.”
She smiled up at him, but the man had already vanished, like the ghost he was.
At that point Brandon’s eyes fluttered open, just for a moment, and then closed again. Not before Benedick saw the expression of clear panic in his bloodshot eyes.
“He’s waking up!” Miranda said, her voice brimming with excitement.
Benedick had to wonder if his brother-in-law had seen that same look of horrified pleading. “You need to come downstairs with me, my love, and have something to eat. You’ve been pacing and hovering for too long.”
“But Brandon needs me!” she cried, mutinous.
“Brandon has Benedick, who is more than capable of providing nursing duties, and most likely better at holding a chamber pot. And you, my dear, need to consider the baby, and eat properly.”
“You’re not fighting fairly,” she shot back.
“Of course not, my love.” He held out his arm, and after a moment she rose and took it.
“But I’m coming right back. Do you understand?” she said stubbornly.
“You could do with a short nap. Then you may come back, and by then your baby brother will probably feel better able to withstand so much family and your dauntless enthusiasm.” He put his hand over hers, leading her away. “Leave this to Neddie.”
Benedick waited until they were out of earshot, stifling his irritation at the Scorpion’s mocking use of the pet name only his siblings were allowed to utter. When he turned back, Brandon’s eyes were open and full of blinding despair.
“I killed her, Neddie,” he whispered, his voice a painful rasp. “I told him I wouldn’t. I told him there wasn’t anything that would make me do it, but I killed her anyway.”
“Hush, now,” Benedick said, taking the seat beside him and holding the hand Miranda had abandoned. There was still blood beneath the fingernails, and he hoped Brandon couldn’t see it. “Who told you to kill her? And who is she?”
“The Grand Master,” he choked out. “No one knows who he is, but we’re all sworn to obey. But I told him I couldn’t. Not ever. But I must have. There was blood all over me, blood on my hands, the knife…”
“But you don’t remember actually killing anyone?” It was faint hope, but worth nurturing. For both their sakes.
There was an almost imperceptible shake from Brandon’s head. “Not for sure. But I remember seeing her. Some poor serving girl, barely more than a child. And the things he ordered me to do to her. I couldn’t, Neddie. But I must have.”
“You were right the first time,” he said soothingly. “You couldn’t. You don’t have it in you. You’re not a killer. You don’t abuse women.”
His laugh had a ghostly quality. “There’s where you’re wrong, Neddie. You have no idea the things I’ve done, the horrors I’ve seen. I lost count of how many men I’ve killed. As for women…you don’t want to know. It’s been…I can’t live with it. Even the opium won’t drive the memory away, not completely. You don’t need the memory as your burden, too. I’m a monster, and my face only shows what I really am.”
Benedick