“Where would he go?” she asked, half to herself. “He has no friends left. No money. No one to turn to.”
“That’s what I intend to find out.” Aaron set the paper aside. “Howlett is continuing his inquiries. In the meantime, I need you to think. Does George keep lodgings elsewhere? Somewhere he might hide?”
Louise thought of the address she’d found months ago, scrawled on a letter George had carelessly left in the study. “There’s a place in Cheapside. I don’t know what he uses it for, but I found correspondence with that address.”
“Write it down for me.”
She took the paper and pen he offered, her hand trembling slightly as she wrote. When she finished, Aaron studied the address with a frown.
“I’ll look into it. See if anyone there knows where he might have gone.”
“I should come with you.”
“No.”
“He’s my brother. My responsibility.”
“And you’re under my protection.” Aaron’s voice brooked no argument. “I promised to help you find him, and I will. But I won’t risk your safety.”
Louise opened her mouth to protest, but something in his expression stopped her. Not coldness, she realized. Concern. Carefully hidden beneath that implacable exterior, but it was there.
“What am I supposed to do?” The question came out smaller than she intended. “Sit here and wait while you search for him?”
“You’re supposed to care for my aunt. Keep your sister safe. Trust that I will find your brother.” He held her gaze. “Can you do that?”
Trust. Such a simple word for such a difficult thing.
“I don’t have much choice, do I?”
“No,” he said quietly. “You don’t.”
“Stop.” She stepped closer, close enough to catch his scent, to see the gold flecks in his dark eyes. “Stop treating me like afragile flower. I’ve survived everything life has thrown at us. I can handle searching my brother’s rooms.”
“I don’t doubt your strength.” His voice dropped lower. “I’ve seen exactly how strong you are. But I won’t risk your safety.”
“It’s not your risk to take.”
“You’re in my home now. That makes it my risk.”
They stood close enough that Louise had to tilt her head back to meet his eyes. Close enough that she could see his pulse beating at his throat, quick and not quite steady. The air between them crackled with more than argument.
“I can’t just sit here.” The words came out softer than intended. “I can’t be useless while you clean up our mess.”
His hand rose as if to touch her face, then dropped. “You’re not useless. You’re keeping your sister stable. You’re giving my aunt purpose. You’re …”
“I’m what?”
His jaw clenched. “You’re staying here. That’s final.”
Louise turned away, moving to the door. “Fine. I’ll bid you good evening then.”
“Listen to me, Lady Louise,” she stopped to look back at him. “Your brother … when I find him, he’ll need you whole. Not damaged by whatever danger he’s stumbled into.”
The concern in his voice nearly undid her resolve. “I understand.”
She left quickly before she could say something foolish. Like how his protection felt different from a burden. Like how the way he looked at her made her feel seen for the first time in years.
In her room, Louise stood at the window and watched snow fall. Soft flakes at first, then heavier, coating the garden in white.
