Page 76

Still, Edmund frowned with a sense of deep confusion. “Forgive me, Brother, but it has been a long ride. Perhaps once I am better rested, I will try for a more congenial welcome.”

Benedict rolled his eyes and gave his brother’s shoulder another squeeze. He was beyond happy that his younger brother had finally returned home, safe and sound. Edmund looked well, healthy, just as Benedict remembered him. That in itself was a reason to be cheerful.

Having said that, Benedict was also not overly surprised by his brother’s somewhat confused, even concerned reaction to the friendly welcome he received. In fact, Benedict might have expected it, for how strange it must have seemed.

Edmund knew Benedict like the back of his hand, and this version that had come outside to greet him was surely as far removed from the man he had always known. Smiling. Cheerful. Darn happy! Certainly not the Benedict he had grown up with.

A lot has changed since we last spoke. Myself included.

“So, I take it that a bath is the first item on the agenda?” Benedict began. He waved to a stablehand who was waiting nearby to collect Edmund’s horse. The stablehand hurried toward them and took the reins from Edmund. “And a meal?”

“That would be most welcome,” Edmund agreed, still eyeing his brother curiously. The two began to walk back toward the manor. “My thighs feel as if they have been whipped bloody, and my back…” He groaned as he stretched out.

“You never were much of a rider.” Benedict chuckled.

“Better than you.”

“That is damning.” Benedict elbowed his brother playfully. “But your point is taken. Now, come…” He threw an arm over Edmund’s shoulder to lead him into the manor. At least he meant to.

Edmund ducked as if Benedict had moved to strike him. When he saw that was not what his brother was doing, he grimaced awkwardly. “Sorry, Benedict. Old habits die hard.”

Benedict scoffed. “When have I ever struck you, Edmund?”

Edmund raised a questioning eyebrow. “Need I read off the list?”

“When you have not deserved it, is my meaning.”

“To that point, when have you ever thrown your arm around my shoulder? Or clapped me on the shoulder? Or looked as if you meant to hug me? A far shorter list than the bruises you have left on my hide, that is for sure.”

Edmund was right to question Benedict. Although Benedict had never beaten Edmund—God no! The two were known to argue often, and those arguments had just as often devolved into brawls. Especially when they were young. Benedict had that temper, and Edmund knew how to bring it out, and this was a recipe for disaster that Edmund knew only too well.

It was strange to think that such a short time had passed and yet so much had changed. That his own brother did not even recognize him! But Benedict supposed that just spoke to how happy he was… which in turn spoke to how miserable his life was before meeting Selina.

“I am not upset with you if that is why you’re worried,” Benedict said.

Edmund snorted. “Do I need a reason to be worried? It does not take much to set you off, Brother. And my feeling is that fleeing a marriage which you are now trapped in is reason enough.”

“It is not like that. I told you—I would not have invited you to return if I was still upset or if there was a reason to fear.”

“No?” Edmund looked around them as if searching for something. “Then where is that lovely wife of yours? Why is she not here by your side to see me arrive?”

“She is busy.”

Edmund scoffed. “I am sure.”

“She is,” Benedict said, keeping the anger from his voice, even if he very much wished to show it. “But she will be joining us for supper later, I can assure you of that.”

“Is that by choice or by force?”

With the exception of Selina, nobody knew quite how to poke and prod at Benedict’s exposed nerves quite like Edmund did. He clearly knew this was a sensitive topic, and yet he chose to ask the question anyway. Typical younger brother, really.

The truth was that Selina had been acting strangely the past couple of days. Nothing to worry about, Benedict was sure. But whenever Edmund was mentioned in any capacity, she would withdraw into herself and change the subject quickly.

It was hard to tell exactly why this was—especially seeing as she refused to speak of it! But Benedict had his suspicions. Edmund had, after all, spurned her, humiliated her, and made her feel as undesirable as day-old meat. Likely, she had not forgotten this public humiliation and was yet to move past it.

But Edmund was home now. Tomorrow night, they were hosting a dinner party in his honor. And Benedict was certain that by the time this was all said and done and the two had a chance to speak plainly to one another, the past would be left where it belonged, and everything would be fine.

He needed it to be. For Edmund’s sake, if nothing else.