Page 79 of The Meaning of Love
“Although we’ve verified that the trap itself had to have been brought onto the estate,” Julian said, “I can’t see any viable way of tracing who brought it here. Even if one of our workers or someone on the neighboring farms had noticed a wagon passing, what are the chances of them having taken note of the people driving the wagon?”
Felix snorted. “Let’s just accept that there’s no way forward there.”
Silence fell as they pondered that.
Eventually, Julian said, “As far as I can see, we have no way of identifying who set the trap, just as we have no way of identifying who put the thorn in my saddle, or shot at us in the park, or pushed the urn off the roof of Carsely House, or tampered with the bookcase.” He met Melissa’s darkened gaze. “It seems the one thing we can be sure about is that, whoever he is, he’s not going to stop.”
The statement hung in the air.
Unsurprisingly, no one argued.
The clock on the mantelpiece whirred. They all looked at it as it chimed for six o’clock.
Julian pushed away from the desk. “We’d better get changed for dinner or Mama will get the wind up even more than she already has.”
“God, yes.” Felix got to his feet. “That’s something we don’t need.”
Melissa rose as well, awakening Ulysses.
As they walked toward the door, Julian took her hand and twined his fingers with hers. He literally felt better for the contact, and the way her fingers curled about his suggested she craved it, too.
With Ulysses gamboling about their feet, they left the library, paused in the front hall to hand the puppy over to an impassive Phelps, and with Felix trailing at their heels, started up the main stairs.
Julian glanced at Melissa’s face. Her expression stated she was deep in thought.
He shifted his gaze forward. Regardless of anything and everything else, he’d be keeping a much closer eye on her from now on. Indeed, through every minute of every day until they apprehended the villain and removed all threat—even indirect—to her.
Chapter 11
Three quietly tense but uneventful days later, Melissa sat in an armchair before the desk in the library and watched Julian, seated opposite, peruse the list of neighboring gentry Veronica had compiled at Melissa’s request.
The room’s long windows looked out over a narrow flagstone terrace to the side garden, an area of green lawns and shady trees basking in the afternoon sunshine. After years in London, she was finding the peace of the castle grounds relaxing, and the weather today had been especially pleasant.
That said, there was a snake lurking somewhere in their Eden. Ever since the incident with the mantrap, the entire household had been metaphorically holding their breaths, waiting to see what would happen next, poised to defend against any threat in whatever way was required, yet not having the slightest clue from which direction that threat would come.
The tension was very real, yet everyone tried to pretend it wasn’t there, primarily to avoid escalating Veronica’s and Frederick’s anxieties. Both tended to become consumed by worry, which was bad enough, but they would try to help, and that was…even less helpful.
After much discussion, Melissa, Julian, and Felix had agreed that, at present, their only viable way forward was to wait for the snake to launch his next attack and hope that, this time, quite aside from them successfully evading said attack, they would gain enough clues to identify him.
Julian reached the end of the list and humphed. “I take it Mama mentioned the Midsummer Ball?”
Melissa refocused on her handsome husband. “She did. She’s been unreservedly helpful, and I thank my lucky stars every day that she’s been so amenable to handing over the household reins. It’s not every newly-wed wife who can say that. And your uncle’s been extraordinarily kind and helpful, too.”
Julian set down the list. “Even more than Mama, Uncle Frederick knows how the castle runs. He would be an excellent source for any of the details Mama might not know—like what’s stored in the attics.”
Lips twitching, Melissa arched her brows. “If I wanted to know what’s in the attics, I would have thought to ask you or one of your brothers first.”
Julian paused, then dipped his head. “Good point. Anyway, if Mama is unavailable, Uncle Frederick will be delighted to assist.” He met her eyes. “They’re both very happy to have you here, you know.”
She smiled. “I did get that impression. But to return to the Midsummer Ball, I gather that’s the next event the castle regularly hosts”—she pointed at the list—“and all those people usually attend.”
He nodded. “You’ll meet all our neighbors at the ball. After that, the next event is the Harvest Fair, which is held in the grounds, and everyone from around about attends. Mama can tell you more, but of the three annual castle events, I imagine that’s the most difficult to organize. The other is the Hunt Ball, which is straightforward enough.”
“Does the local hunt ride from here?”
“No, but the Wirksworth Ride—the mock hunt before midsummer—leaves from the forecourt here.”
Ulysses, who’d been napping at Melissa’s feet, leapt up and, whining, tail wagging but not furiously, hurried down the room to the open French doors. He halted on the threshold, looked out, and yelped.
