Page 81 of The Meaning of Love
Melissa was nodding. “It’s too easy to imagine a scenario of Phelps going into the kitchen to pick up a dish and mentioning to Mrs. Phelps or even Edgerton that you’re discussing restocking the fish pond, just as Cook is dealing with the butcher boy at the other end of the table, and then the butcher boy mentions it to his friend, who’s the fishmonger’s son…” Grimacing, she shrugged. “Even I know that’s how news spreads in the country.”
Julian and Felix grimaced as well. “You’re not wrong,” Felix said and drained the rest of his brandy.
Over the next half hour, they discussed what they should do. Regarding how to deal with the spring gun, they agreed it would be best to take Phelps, Edgerton, and Hockey into their confidence, tell them of the spring gun, and note that despite any assumptions that it might be tempting to draw, there was no firm evidence linking any member of the staff to the attack.
“I’ll ask Edgerton and Hockey to take care of the damned thing themselves,” Julian said. “They’ll understand the need to keep quiet about it, but they’ll also be put on guard.” He winced. “More on guard.”
They remained concerned over further escalating Veronica’s and Frederick’s anxieties, understandable though those were, and decided not to mention the incident to them or, indeed, anyone else beyond the Phelpses, Hockey, and Edgerton.
“And my man,” Felix said. He’d lowered his hand from the handkerchiefs, which showed only a small bloodstain. “I’ll have to get Hicks to bind this up and dispose of the evidence, but he’s as loyal as old boots. He’ll do it and keep mum.”
Julian nodded. “It might be wise to include Keogh, my man”—he looked at Melissa—“and your maid as well.”
Melissa nodded. “I’ll tell Jolene.”
“And I’ll write to Damian as well,” Julian said, “just so he’s abreast of the situation.”
“Removing the spring gun,” Felix said, “and keeping quiet about the incident might at least confuse the blighter.”
Julian grunted and rose. “At present, it seems there’s precious little else we can do. I’ll go and speak with Edgerton first, then find Hockey.”
Melissa pushed out of the armchair. “I’ll come with you. I’ve been meaning to speak with Edgerton about the borders for autumn.” She linked her arm with Julian’s. “We can use that as our excuse for seeking him out.”
Felix grunted and got to his feet as well. “I’ll slip upstairs and get Hicks to fix me up.” He looked at Julian and Melissa. “I’d take the back stairs, but the servants gossip far worse than anyone else. Can you clear the way to the main stairs?”
They grinned and did, walking ahead and ensuring that no one was about to see Felix trailing behind them.
They reached the front hall without encountering anyone, and Felix slipped past and up the stairs.
Julian watched Felix go. His brother was still alive but…
Jaw firming, with Melissa on his arm, he made for the front door.
Three days later, having completed their morning’s ride, which today had taken in the lands all the way to the estate’s western boundary, Melissa and Julian cantered home along the well-maintained bridle path through the thick woods that covered the rise to the west of the castle.
In the lead, Melissa turned her head and called back, “I can see why this is your favorite route back to the castle. The glimpses of the walls and roofs are intriguing.”
Julian replied, “As I child, I loved those teasing vignettes—I still do.”
Smiling, Melissa faced forward—and her hat was swept from her head. “What?”
She hauled on the reins. Rosa obediently responded, and Melissa half wheeled to a halt. Settling in the saddle, she stared back along the track and saw that Julian had reined Argus in hard and had stopped level with her fallen hat.
He seemed to be staring at something directly in front of him, something she couldn’t see.
She frowned. She’d expected to see an errant branch or some such thing—whatever had hit her hat with sufficient force to rip it from its anchoring pins.
Julian stared at the taut wire that stretched across the path. In something close to disbelief, he raised a hand and, with one gloved finger, tested the tension.
It was as tight as a piano wire, half as thick, and infinitely more deadly.
And at the perfect height to hit him across the throat when he leant over Argus’s neck.
Puzzled, Melissa came trotting back.
“Careful,” he warned.
If he’d been in the lead or riding alone, as had generally been the case before their wedding…
