Stealing in through a side door, Aidan rushed toward his room, intent on ordering a bath and dinner. Then he’d drink his way to sleep, God willing.
But as he passed the library, he knew he’d made a mistake in coming home. He wasn’t alone here. Marissa called his name, and he came to a reluctant halt as she rose from a chair by the window, her face tight with worry.
“Pardon me,” he growled. “I need a bath.”
She frowned as if he were speaking a foreign language. “Come in, Aidan. Please? I need to speak with you.”
He tried to temper his voice. “I’m sorry. I’m not in the mood for idle conversation right now.”
“It’s her,” she said softly.
“I don’t have the patience for riddles or—”
“It’s Katie. Katie Tremont. You found her.” The hope in her face made him scowl.
Aidan gave in with less grace than a mad dog, stepping into the library and slamming the door behind him. “Your husband has been telling tales.”
“I was worried. You were—”
“It hardly matters now,” he snapped. “I found her, yes. Congratulations on ferreting out the story, Marissa. It must be quite exciting for you.”
“Stop it!” she ordered, her spine snapping straight.
“You’ve no call to be cruel to me. Nor anyone else in this house. What are you even doing here?”
That stopped his raging heart. Did even his family not want him now? “What?”
“If you’ve found Katie, if you love her, what are you doing here, moping about?”
“She’s married.”
“And? You’ve already looked into dispensing with that obstacle.”
“And?” he snapped. “And she knows about me.”
“Knows what?”
This was not a conversation a man had with his sister. Aidan crossed his arms and glared at her, but Marissa simply stared back, eyebrows posed in a question. He cleared his throat and tried not to squirm.
“Well?” she pressed. “What is it?”
His outrage floated away, escaping him. “I’m not . . . That is . . . I have not been the man she expected me to be. I have not made myself proud, much less anyone else.”
Aidan half-expected his sister to shush him and tell him how wonderful he was. But she only pressed her lips tight together.
He tried to feel irritated instead of embarrassed. “I see that you agree.”
“You have spread yourself thin, by all accounts.”
“Jesus,” he bit out. When she shrugged, Aidan spun toward the door. “Well, then. You have your explanation.”
“Don’t. This is important. It’s important to all of us, Aidan. Don’t just leave.”
“I don’t want to talk about it.”
“Well, you never want to talk about it. You want to hunch over it like a hermit with his treasure, raging at anyone who comes near. Is your pain so precious to you?”
“Don’t be ridiculous.”