Page 95 of The Meaning of Love
As Manning recognized the futility of attempting to break free, his shoulders slumped, and his expression grew strangely blank.
The valet, who was almost certainly not a valet, made no attempt to defend himself as Damian strode up, grabbed him by the collar, all but shook him, and barked, “What have you been up to, you conniving mountebank?”
Julian released Melissa, walked forward, and dropped a hand on Damian’s shoulder. “Take him up to the house. I have questions for which I would like answers.”
Damian drew in a deep breath and visibly shackled his temper. After a second, he shook Manning once more for good measure, then, his expression thunderous, turned and, propelling the hapless valet before him, marched the man out of the stable and toward the house.
Julian nodded to Hockey and the other men. “Thank you. It seems he, too, has been up to no good.”
Hockey—indeed all the men—looked worried.
Hockey approached and fell in beside Julian as he rejoined Melissa, and in Damian’s wake, with Felix, they headed for the castle.
“That’s two of them.” At the entrance to the stable yard, Hockey halted and met Julian’s eyes. “I don’t like the looks of this.”
“No more do I,” Julian assured him. “Let’s hope this is the end of it.”
The look Melissa cast him said she wasn’t sure of that, and in truth, neither was he.
They parted from Hockey and caught up with Damian by the steps to the terrace. He continued to hold Manning by the collar, his unforgiving grip a fraction of an inch away from choking the man.
“What do you want to do with him?” Damian growled.
On impulse, Julian halted and studied Manning, then simply asked, “Who put you up to this?”
That was the one question he most wanted answered.
But as he’d expected, after one wide-eyed glance at his face, Manning fractionally shook his head, looked down again, and said not a word.
Stifling a sigh, Julian met Damian’s gaze. “Take him to the dungeon and put him in with Mitchell. Perhaps by talking to each other, they can reach a better appreciation of their position and realize that the only way forward for them is to tell me all they know.”
That speech, of course, was for Manning’s benefit. Julian saw enough reaction to know the man had heard every word. All he could hope was that, having had more time to think things through, when Mitchell saw that Manning, too, had been apprehended, Mitchell might be more amenable to telling Julian what he needed to know.
Until then…
Julian nodded to Damian, and his brother propelled Manning toward the kitchen door, the fastest route to the cell in the old dungeon.
Still holding Melissa’s hand, feeling her fingers curl in his, Julian stood and watched Damian and Manning disappear.
On his other side, Felix shifted restlessly. “He’s not going to talk, is he? Like Mitchell, for some benighted reason, he feels compelled to keep his mouth shut.”
Julian nodded. “That’s how I read him.”
In a tone of exasperated bewilderment, Melissa put their thoughts into words. “What the devil is going on?”
Chapter 13
The next morning, after they’d breakfasted and Melissa and Julian had dealt with their immediate daily duties, they gathered with Felix and Damian in the library to discuss what to do with Mitchell and Manning.
“We’ve just come from seeing them.” Felix dropped into one of the armchairs before the desk.
Damian drew up another armchair, positioning it between the one Melissa occupied and the one Felix had claimed. “And as we all expected”—gracefully, Damian fell into the chair—“neither of them will open their lips. Not to utter so much as a peep.”
Felix shook his head. “I’ve never seen accused men so totally silent. What are they going to do at their trial? Just sit mum?”
Seated in his usual position behind the desk, Julian frowned. “This entire situation—first attack to last—has been increasingly strange, but this refusal to speak, even in their own defense, is another level of oddness.”
He paused, then admitted, “I went down to see them first thing this morning, hoping that after spending the night in the same cell, they would have discussed their predicament and seen the sense in adopting a more helpful attitude—at least a bargaining one—but no.” His expression grew more puzzled. “While the prospect of being hanged frightens them—they clearly have that much sense—it does absolutely nothing to loosen their tongues.”
