is readied, and I’m certain he can summon some of his less savory acquaintances to assist.” She turned to her husband. “Do you know where Kersley Hall is, darling?”
“Generally. We’ll find it,” he said. “Do you know when this supposed ritual is going to take place?”
“Midnight. And don’t even think of bringing Miranda. She’s pregnant, for God’s sake!”
“You’ve known her all your life,” Lucien retorted. “Do you really think I have a chance in hell of keeping her home?”
“Oh, you’re a fearsome creature, indeed, Scorpion.”
“Stuff it. Your sister is enough to terrify anyone.”
Benedick ignored him, turning to his sister. “Someone needs to look out for Brandon. I don’t know that Trudy will be fully up to it.”
“Mrs. Cadbury can do it. You don’t mind, do you, Mrs. Cadbury? The doctor assures us he’ll simply sleep the next twenty-four hours, but we’d feel better if someone was keeping an eye on him.”
Emma Cadbury looked like a cornered doe. “I shouldn’t even be here… Really, I must go. They’ll be worried…”
“You can send word home. And really, don’t you think Lady Carstairs will want to see you first thing when Benedick brings her safely home? And he will. Won’t you, Neddie?”
He had no choice. “Yes, please stay, Mrs. Cadbury. It would be a kindness.”
She nodded, giving in.
“What are you waiting for?” Miranda demanded, in full warrior mode. “We’ll be there before midnight. How will we find you?”
There was no way to stop her, any more than he could stop the incoming tide. “Make a commotion. Some kind of distraction that will draw the attention away from whatever this so-called master has planned. I suppose your sources didn’t figure out yet who’s running the Heavenly Host?” he asked his brother-in-law.
The Scorpion shook his head. “I’ll keep my wife safe. Mrs. Cadbury will look after Brandon. The rest is up to you.”
“God help us,” Benedick muttered.
The house was silent. Emma Cadbury sat alone in the Viscount’s library, a tea tray by her side. She’d managed to drink a cup, but the sight of the tea cakes, so beloved by Melisande, had her on the verge of weeping with fear, and she had never been a woman to give in to tears. She’d simply covered the plate with a serviette.
He was above stairs, sleeping. Lady Rochdale had assured her that he would be fine—a servant would fetch her if he awoke, but that was very unlikely. She had the direction of a doctor, if he should suddenly get worse, but in truth, all she had to do was wait.
As if things weren’t bad enough, she thought, trying for a wry smile and failing. On top of everything else temptation was thrown in her face. She’d wanted to see him so many times in the past few months, ever since they’d whisked him away from the hospital, but there’d been no chance. She’d told herself it was for the best. And now here he was, sick, wretched. Unconscious.
He wouldn’t know that she’d looked in on him. He was a boy, despite all the horrors he’d been through, despite the determination with which he was trying to destroy himself. She could pray over him, but she never prayed anymore. She was frightened, more frightened than she’d been since the night she’d run away, terrified that Melisande would have finally walked into a danger she couldn’t escape, terrified that poor little Betsey would be slaughtered.
Surely she deserved the one sweet respite of a look at Brandon Rohan’s sleeping face? Just to reassure herself.
She moved quietly up the stairs. It was growing dark outside, the late-spring evening coming on quickly. The servants were out of sight, as good servants were supposed to be, even the kindly old man who’d brought her the tea had told her he was going down for his own supper but all she had to do was pull the bell if she needed assistance.
It was as good a time as any.
She moved up the stairs quite slowly, half hoping she’d think better of it, but the closer she came the more she knew she couldn’t turn back. His room was at the end of the hallway, and while the door to the hallway was closed, she could see dim light coming from under the door. Lady Rochdale had told her a maid would be stationed outside, but the chair was empty.
She moved up and pressed her ear against the door, only to hear absolute silence. And then a hideous thump.