“Of course. I will see to it immediately.”
Nigel bowed, withdrew from the stable, and left Maximilian the impossible task of figuring out who wanted him dead.
* * *
Though Augusta, at supper the previous evening, tried talking him out of his planned visit once again, Maximilian rode out the following morning. Despite the Duchess’s apparent disapproval, the Whitingtons made no objections to his absence. As he trotted and cantered the few miles to the Mallen estate, he again fretted over not knowing who tried to kill him. Yet, Miss Betham’s lovely face intruded upon his thoughts. While he was enjoying the mild day – an excellent one for riding – he spent more time thinking of her than he did his would-be killer.
Edmund greeted him warmly, clicked his tongue over the wrap covering the wound on his head, and offered him sherry in the library. “What happened?” he asked, chuckling. “Do not tell me that wretched stallion tossed you off again.”
“Not this time,” Maximilian replied, then explained the cut shafts on his carriage.
Edmund’s face clouded as he spoke. “Among all the people I know who have made mortal enemies,” he said slowly, “you are the least among them, my friend. I happen to know you are quite popular at court and in Parliament.”
Sipping from his glass of sherry, Maximilian nodded. “I cannot think of anyone who hates me that much or bears me a grudge.”
“What about the woman you used to be so fond of? Could she wish you harm?”
Maximilian stiffened at the mention of Sophia. “If anyone was hurt in that relationship,” he said, “it was me.”
“Who truly knows what goes on in a woman’s mind? Perhaps she is imagining some slight, and it has grown like a canker.”
“But she is married now and living in London,” Maximilian replied, frowning. “How can she be responsible for cutting the shafts on my carriage?”
“My dear Maximilian,” Edmund said, smiling a little. “Sometimes your innocence is so very amusing. Have you not considered she paid someone in your employ to do you harm?”
“No,” Maximilian admitted, “that did not occur to me.”
“With the many hundreds you employ at the castle,” the Earl said, “finding out who might be quite difficult.”
“Even if it was not Sophia, it still may be someone who hates me.”
“True enough, I suppose. But who?”
Maximilian shook his head. “I will try to find out. But meanwhile, how is your dear mother?”
He and the Earl of Mallen concluded their business with his mother, who smiled as he kissed her cheek goodbye. Dusk closed in on Maximilian as he rode toward home, but as the evening weather remained mild, he enjoyed the ride through the darkness. After turning his horse over to a groom, he walked toward the castle through the garden. And discovered Miss Betham strolling through it.
“Miss Betham.” He tried to cover his delight in finding her there and alone. “Where is Lady Helena?”
She dipped into a curtsey. “She wished to spend her evening reading, Your Grace, and gave me permission to come here.”
“Perhaps it is not safe for you to wander about alone.” He stepped closer to her.
Miss Betham peeped up at him, fingering the end of her braid. “Do you think that whoever cut your carriage shafts will try to kill me?”
“Right now, I do not know what to think,” he said. “But after this, I am suspicious of everything.”
“I do hope you are not suspicious of me.”
Wishing he could take her in his arms and kiss her, Maximilian contented himself with a smile. “You and Lady Helena are two that I least consider suspicious, Miss Betham.”
Under the light of the stars and the half moon rising in the east, Maximilian watched her nibble the lip he so wanted to kiss.
“May I ask you something, Your Grace?”
“You just did.” He certainly enjoyed hearing her laughter. Light and musical, he recognized that it came from her heart, a woman with a very highly refined sense of humor. “Yes, you may ask me anything.”
“You do not seem to like Lady Helena,” she said. “Might I inquire why? Of course, whatever you say to me will remain with me. I will not tell her, though she is my friend as well as my mistress.”
