Misleading The Marquis

Nineteen - Bane

Gina Marie's strangled screaming woke him from what felt like the sleep of the dead.

What had it been? Two? Three nights without sleep? And at least as many attempts on the life of his new bride. Bane bolted out of the bed, and flew across the floor of the bedchamber he'd assigned to Gina Marie... never mind it was the only one with a dressing closet connecting to his own bedchamber.  She stood in the doorway, facing out towards the hall, using the large mahagony door as a kind of crutch. She seemed frozen, stuck, that strangled noise still coming out of her mouth.

"George? What is -" but the words died on his lips the moment he reached her. Black rose petals covered the floor of the hallway. Fear and anger gripped him equally and he roared with frustration, startling Gina Marie so that she let go of the door.

"Bane?" she said his name like a question, but he'd already reached out to snake an arm around her waist, offering himself as her crutch instead.

"Harry!" Bane roared, pulling George close to his side, impatient when his friend did not answer immediately, "HARRY!" he called again, stepping over the black rose petals, crushing their delicate veins under the heels of his boots as he moved towards the stairs, he needed to have a look at something.

"What the devil -" Harry burst out of his room a few doors down in a stupor, his cravat half tied and his waistcoat buttons mismatched. But then he too stopped short at the offensive floral arrangement that lay just outside of George's bedchamber.

"Gather some men, meet me in my study," Bane yelled over his shoulder as he and George made slow work of hobbling down the stairs together to the second floor. She didn't speak from beside him, and he didn't either until they'd reached the stone landing turned left and entered the room that Bane considered his sanctuary of sanctuaries within the castle.

"You should sit," he told Gina Marie abruptly depositing her into an oversized leather chair.

"Do you understand what those mean?" Gina Marie asked, and Bane heard the shakiness in her voice as he rifled through one drawer looking for the household account of keys made and distributed.

"It means someone got inside," Bane answered in a surly tone, "Someone who did not come through the front door."

"What?" Gina Marie asked, voice full of confusion as he moved his search to the next drawer, "No! It means death. Death is coming... those are the roses - the ones they used to use -"

"During the Rose Plague, yes, I know," Bane cut her off, slamming a third drawer shut in his frustration, "Where is Harry?!" he demanded next, stomping across the floor of his private study impatiently.

He'd cultivated the room to his specific taste, the deep greens and dark browns intermingled with modern buffed brass accents. The desk was handmade by his father's grandfather a century before from trees on the Brisbane mountain. The room itself was circular, half lined with bookshelves set snug against the walls in a semi circle, the other half a semi circle of window panes that overlooked the best view Brisbane Castle had to offer, particularly when it came to the sunrises. What would they have advised him - all those generations...

"Bane?"

He remembered that Gina Marie was in the room as well and turned to find her paler than ever, staring at him wide eyed and uncertain.

"What's happening?" she whispered, her hands twisting in her lap nervously as she watched his frantic movements about the room.

Bane hesitated, unsure of what to say, how much to explain. He wanted it to be eloquent, to put her at ease - he just needed a chance to explain... but when he opened his mouth -

"I killed my wife." He blurted the words then winced, feeling like an idiot as Gina Marie went a shade paler, her face falling into a lost expression.

"Wh-what?" she muttered, pulling herself further into the large armchair, bringing her knees to her chest in a protective motion, leg splint and all. Bane wiped a hand over his face in exasperation and hurried towards her in the chair. But she flinched away from him, eyes round and wide as she seemed to consider him for the first time... possibly for the first time as the Beast of the North.

"George just listen for a moment would you..." he barked impatiently, for this was hardly the time to be flinching and melodramas, "it is not what you're thinking, I swear."

Just as she was busy staring at him like some horrifying animal, Harry came through the door, followed by a veritable army of his family and guardsmen. Bane turned away from Gina Marie's face of accusation and fear to update his best friend, but he was set upon immediately by Merigold, Grandmother, Joshua, Mary Kathleen and half the household.

"What's happened?"

"Are you alright?"

"Has there been an accident?"

"Explain yourself at once young man!"

Bane sighed heavily, throwing both hands out in front of himself almost as if to ward off the veritable firestorm of questions and fear.

"Bane?" This last statement from Harry who stood, hands on hips awaiting the full story from his oldest friend. And it was something in Harry's face, some kind of pity that had Bane wishing very much he didn't have to say what he was about to.

"I suspect someone is trying to kill George," he began, running a hand through his hair anxiously. Then before another word came from his mouth, every female relative turned in oohhh and poor things to George where she still sat behind him in the oversized armchair. Bane turned with them and caught sight of her staring at him, crying silently, her knees still pulled up to her chest. It melted him instantly, pierced him with guilt and a weight of insufficiency as Mary Kathleen threw her arms around George and began stroking her hair. He should've told her that bit privately more likely. Oh well. He was a lousy husband anyway and there would be nothing for it now.

"Come again," Harry ordered tightly, his gaze jumping from Gina Marie back to Bane, not quite melting as the womenfolk had. Harry had fought with him in the great Pear wars... they'd been brothers in arms for three years of air raids and night raids alike. If there was anyone Bane trusted at this moment, it was Harry - even more than he trusted himself.

"On our from the St. John Manor we were attacked by four highwaymen," Bane began there, feeling suddenly much more tired than he'd realized, "Then there was a black rose left for us to find on the airship... last night she was poisoned, here in her own home," Bane faltered slightly as Harry's gaze narrowed at that last statement. Of course Harry would know what it meant for Bane to cast the net of protection over someone who was not family. "And this morning... the rose petals," he finished with a heaving breath, "It all points to her death... someone is trying to kill George... to avenge Cora's death."

"And you've put this all together?" Harry encouraged with an impatient wave of his hand.

"it is Malcolm," Bane answered, and the room fell silent, "I am certain of it," he added with conviction.

"What -"

"You can't mean -"

"Now just wait a moment -"

The room erupted once more into commentary, all except for Harry who just stared at Bane, jaw clenching and unclenching in turn, the only indicator of his friend's anxiety.

"Who is Malcolm?" came her voice, small and afraid from behind him. Bane glanced over his shoulder, too ashamed of himself to look her in teh face. This was all his fault, all his doing. He'd brought George to her death in a feud that She'd nothing to do with. And after her look of fear only a moment earlier, Bane was beginning to worry he'd lost whatever ground they'd gained over the last three days together.

"he is -"

"A visitor, my Lord," this came from Knox, who stood at the door, placid and unworried, despite the early hour.

"Who Knox?" Bane barked, turning on the old man, "Who is it that's so important that you're interrupting now?"

"It is your brother, sir... Master Malcolm Sefton has arrived."