supposed he sounded much like the man as well.
âI am. You purport to be my younger brother?â
The manâs mouth quirked in the same way Flynnâs would have if heâd had to listen to some pompous ass ask who he purported to be.
âMy name is Robbie. I remember that much.â
Yes, they had called him Robbie or Master Robbie. Heâd seemed, as a child, too young for the formality of Robert . But he was no child now. âAt the moment, I donât give a shilling who you are. Youâre lucky to be standing. When her brother finds out you abducted her, youâll be in your grave.â
The manâs gaze slid to Emma, then back to him. âWhoâs her brother?â
âThe Duke of Ravenscroft.â
Robbie laughed. âI might have known. I knew she werenât no mere miss .â
âFlynn,â Emma began, âhe took me only because he didnât have a choice. The man he works for wants to ransom us both.â
Robbie nodded. âThatâs the truth, if youâll have it. And maybe thereâs another truth I havenât said. Maybe I hoped if you came here, you could get me out.â
Flynn glanced about the room, noted the sparse furnishings and the general squalor. A man in these conditions might be desperate enough to try and impersonate the son of a viscount. He was desperate enough to abduct the sister of a duke. âHow do I know youâre really Robert Flynn?â he asked. âWhy shouldnât I take her, shoot you, and walk away?â
The man shrugged. âMaybe you should. Itâs not safe here. As for proving my identity, I canât. All I know is my nameâRobbieâandâ¦â He trailed off and pulled the bottle he clenched a little tighter to his chest.
âAnd?â Emma was the one who finally asked. Flynn could have waited all night.
âAnd I have one memory.â He looked at Flynn and then away. âI donât even know if itâs a memory or something I conjured in my dreams. Itâsâ¦â He seemed to look far away, back into another life. âWhen I think back, I see a sparkling flower. I think it must be jewels I see sparkling. Theyâre in the shape of a flowerâred petals, a green stem, and a ladybugââ
âA ladybug on the leaf,â Flynn finished.
Robbie looked at him, seeming to come back to the present. âYes. You know it?â
Flynnâs heart was pounding painfully in his chest now. âIt was my motherâs. A brooch she often wore pinned to her day gown.â But the brooch alone did not prove this man was his brother. He could have seen the viscountess wear the brooch any number of times. She resided in Bath part of the year. Perhaps she wore the brooch here.
Except Flynn had not seen her wear it in years. Sheâd been wearing it the day Robbie disappeared, and afterward heâd heard her tell her ladyâs maid she could not bear to see any reminder of that dayânot the brooch, the gloves, or the dress and hat sheâd worn. Flynn, who had been nine, had thought he too had been relegated to that same list of reminders. It had seemed to him neither of his parents could bear to look at him. Everyone said his brotherâs disappearance was not his fault, but he did not believe it. His parents did not believe it. When he was sent away to school, he was actually relieved and resisted going home for holidays. Flynn had wished, more times than he could count, that he had been the one to disappear.
Had he finally found his brother? Seeing the way the man lived served only to thrust the dagger in his chest deeper into his heart. He had grown up with everything, and his brother had livedâ¦here. In this filth and poverty. And the man was hugging a bottle of laudanum. Flynn could add his brotherâs addiction to his long list of fraternal crimes.
âI can see you donât believe Iâm your brother,â the man