“Miranda!” Benedick groaned.
“She married me, Rohan,” the Scorpion said. “She’s used to all sorts of bad hats. ”
“Is that what I am?” Mrs. Cadbury said wryly. “It’s better than some other things I’ve been called. But Lord Rohan, I really must speak with you. ”
“You may as well do it in front of my sister and her wretched husband. What has Lady Carstairs done now?”
“That’s the problem, my lord. She’s gone missing. ”
33
The day had gone from incomprehensibly bad to cataclysmic, Benedick thought with almost absent precision. What had started with worry over his brother and annoyance with his sister had flipped over into a kind of focused panic. They had Melisande, God help her.
And God help them.
He managed to keep his voice under control. “What makes you think I know anything about it?”
Emma Cadbury gave him a look of withering disdain, something he deserved. “I was hoping you would, sir. I was truly hoping she’d been fool enough to spend the night with you again and simply hadn’t bothered to let us know. ”
“I could only wish,” Miranda said wryly.
“But since she’d gone out in search of young Betsey, who disappeared, and she promised she was coming to ask you for help, it seemed odd that she didn’t send any word back to us. She never would have abandoned Betsey for some shallow affaire with a hardened rake,” she said bitterly.
She certainly had the hard part right, even if the shallow affaire and rake part were far and away off. “I never saw her,” he said. “Haven’t seen her since two mornings ago. ”
“When she left here in tears,” Emma Cadbury said bitterly. “You bastard. ”
He blinked in astonishment. He wasn’t used to being called a bastard by anyone, much less someone so far beneath him in rank.
Miranda jumped in before he could respond. “Not precisely, but close enough. To make things worse, the damned fool’s in love with her and refuses to admit it. I am so weary of pigheaded men and their stubborn natures. ”
Lucien de Malheur laughed.
“You’re not exempt, either!” she snapped.
Emma Cadbury looked at Benedick with skepticism. “I don’t see any signs of love, my lady. I see a cruel, heartless pig of a man who used her and then sent her away, and…”
“Enough!” he thundered, and all was mercifully silent. “I do not appreciate being called names in my own house. I am not a bastard, a rake, a pig or anything else you women might think of. My love life is not open for discussion, no matter how interested you two are. ”
“Make that three,” the Scorpion tossed in, and Benedick sent him a bitter glare. He should have known someone like Lucien de Malheur would offer no loyalty, no male solidarity.
“And beyond that, I believe we should be more concerned about Lady Carstairs. Explain to me what happened,” he demanded in a peremptory tone.
“But first, please take a seat,” Miranda broke in.
“You don’t offer a seat to a brothel-keeper, Miranda,” Benedick said.
“But she’s retired. ”
“I don’t want a seat. I want to find Melisande and make sure she’s safe. I’m afraid she’s gone after those men, and she doesn’t even have your doubtful company to protect her. ”
He ground his teeth at the word doubtful but let it pass. “When did she leave?”
“Yesterday, in the late morning. She took a hired coach, and the monk’s robe we’d made for her, and she said she was bringing Betsey home. And that’s the last we’ve heard of her, or Betsey for that matter. ”
“You could have come to me sooner,” he snapped, a dozen horrifying scenarios racing through his mind.
“I assumed she was with you. That’s what she told me. I should have realized that something was amiss. Particularly when you consider how distraught she was when she returned home from here the last time. ”