Misleading The Marquis

29 - Bane

"She'll be back, Bane," Blair comforted him with all the gentle kindness one would find in an older sister. She patted at his arm dotingly, her doe eyes giving him more pity than any human could ever deserve... but still it did not make him feel any better.

George was missing... and so was one of the carriages.

"I should've known - should've seen it coming - " Bane bit out with a shake of his head. He pulled away from Blair's grasp and moved back to pace in front of the windows in his library. He had every Tesla system on the mountain searching out the homing beacon for that particular carriage... and still nothing... it had a range of sixty knocks on a good day... so where was his wife, more than sixty knocks from home? It was cold outside, a thick fog had fallen over the land... what if they'd come into trouble? An accident? Something that would've disabled the homing device? Damn it all to hell, where was George?!

"Missing a wife?"

He recognized Malcolm's voice without needing to turn around. Rubbing a hand over his eyes, Bane stayed where he was, staring out the window.

"Did you do something?" he asked quietly, a hard pit growing in his stomach as his mind conjured up every possibility. Perhaps his brother had told her what happened to Cora, perhaps he'd told her of the child. Perhaps in her horror, George had fled. And while Bane himself wouldn't blame her for never wanting to lay eyes on him again - he would equally beat his brother to a pulp if Malcolm had allowed her to leave without the proper safety precautions.

"Do something?" Malcolm echoed, his voice sounding odd as he came to stand beside Bane at the windows, "Something like shove her down three flights of stairs?"

"Did you tell her?" Bane ammended quickly, still refusing to look at his brother.

"No," Malcolm answered easily, and Bane believed him, "But why haven't you?"

"Save it," Bane bit back, rubbing at his eyes, "I need to find her."

"Name of the Saint, you love her don't you?" Malcolm reiterated his earlier point. Bane glanced over his shoulder to see that Blair had left them alone, not that it mattered. It was probably well and above obvious by now to his entire family just how strongly he felt about George.

"Saint's name, Mal - I never knew -" Bane began, a strange twisting feeling in his chest as he considered the possibility that George might be...

"Bane - you don't have to -" Malcolm began, clearing his throat awkwardly, but Bane wouldn't let it rest, not this time.

"Mal - I couldn't have imagined this - this - "

"Pure helplessness," Malcolm finished for him, shoving both hands into his pant pockets as the two brothers gaze met in a deep and terrible understanding at last.

"Yes," Bane breathed out, wincing as the word drove home in his chest.

"Tell me again -" Mal ordered, brushing past the moment of raw emotion, "- what exactly has happened since you retrieved her?"

"There were the highway men -" Bane began, "The black rose outside our airship compartment... the poison at dinner... the black roses outside her bedroom door..."

"Anything else?" Mal pressed, "Anything at all you can think of?"

"She's bloody broken and bruised all over," Bane said in disgust, his care for her had been abysmal thus far, "Her leg, her face... she fell down the stairs at the inn - "

"Saint Almighty," Mal swore softly, his eyebrows shooting up into his hairline, "That must've killed you then and there."

"Very nearly," Bane admitted with a bitter smirk, "But how are these things connected? Who is doing this?"

"You said she has a brother?" Mal asked after a long moment of pondering.

"He's been locked up for some time," Bane admitted off handedly, "I sent a comm to the institute yesterday and received information regarding visitation policies... they would've said something if he'd gone missing."

"Damn," Malcolm sighed, rocking back on his heels and letting out a sigh, "I don't blame you for going mad then..."

"You should blame me, you know -" Bane began, his throat feeling tight.

"Bane, don't -"

"No, you should, because -"

"Lord Brisbane, the carriage's homing device has been located," this came from the footman at the door. But before the words were completely out of the man's mouth, Bane was shoving him aside, in pursuit of a horse.

He'd barely pulled on jacket and riding gloves when he noticed Harry and Malcolm doing just the same.

"We're coming with, you idiot," Harry muttered under his breath.

"Thank you." Bane said it in perhaps the most heartfelt voice he'd ever used on Harry, the man he'd been to war and back with. Harry stared at him openly for several long moments, then looked away, clearing his throat and coughing suspiciously.

"Let's go and find your Marchioness, then, eh? I'm sure she's only been out shopping and we're about to find her with a carriage full to the brim of new dancing slippers."

Bane and Malcolm both chuckled obliging at the image, then all three kicked their mounts into motion, Bane leading the way with the tracking device in hand.

Horses could still travel faster than a locamotive carriage, and they interesected the perfectly intact vehicle in less than twenty knocks.

"Ho there!" Harry called, and the driver halted, "Why aren't you answering any comm?"

"Beg your pardon sir, breakers been down since it's last recharge," the young man answered nervously, it wasn't often your master chased you down the mountain.

"Is your mistress inside?" Bane demanded, but he'd already dismounted, the fog closing in even as he moved across the green mossy stone to reach the carriage's metal door. Fear engulfing him, and a depth of feeling he'd never known before overcoming him, he grasped the ornate handle, thinking that all the money in the world was about to be useless if George had left him.

"Bane?"

Her voice was sleepy, and he could see as his eyes adjusted to the darkness within the cab that she'd been asleep, her head resting against the far window pane, her cheek reddened from the prolonged contact. His heart seemed to seize in his chest.

"Georgina St. John - in the name of the Saint!" he roared, the wash of ferocious emotion bleeding off of him in waves. He'd found her. She was safe. She was whole. She was still his.

"What on earth -" she barely had the words out before Bane grabbed hold of her arm and dragged her out of the cab and into himself. She banged awkwardlyl against his chest and he instantly wrapped both arms around her in a vice grip that was far from dreamy or romantic.

"Why would you do that?" he barked, then leaned his forehead against hers, like a man desperate.

"Do what? I don't under -" but then he was kissing her, and they weren't arguing at all anymore.