“Yes.” Julian glanced toward the ballroom and exhaled through his teeth. “Unfortunately, we can’t simply vanish from our engagement ball. We all need to go in there and pretend nothing whatever’s amiss.”
Melissa linked her arm in his. “We should also all go in together, as if we’ve been chatting about some family matter.”
He nodded and settled her arm in his. “Good idea.” He started for the corridor leading to the ballroom.
“But”—Felix fell in beside him, his tone suggesting he wasn’t going to be gainsaid—“tomorrow morning, instead of going to church, we need to sit down and seriously discuss who is trying to kill you.”
“Indeed.” Julian felt the weight of the look Melissa bent on him.
“I’ll be there, too,” she declared. “What time?” She looked past him at Felix, then glanced at Damian, beside her. “Eleven?”
His brothers growled agreement, and when they all looked at him, Julian nodded. “Eleven. In the study here.” He met Melissa’s eyes. “I’ll come and fetch you. And now…bright smiles, everyone.”
They all knew how to play ton games; apparently relaxed, with easygoing, patently happy smiles on their faces, they strolled back into the fray.
The following morning, Julian walked the short distance to Mount Street, with a footman and his groom, both not in livery, unobtrusively trailing ten or so yards behind.
He was not of a mind to allow Melissa to venture forth without suitable protection, not even over the short distance between their homes. He also accepted that he was likely the attacker’s target and couldn’t help wondering if the sight of him, idly strolling along the pavement, might draw the villain out.
That said, he doubted the ruse would work; the more he thought of what had occurred the previous night—or rather very early that morning—the more it seemed clear it had been a spontaneous, opportunistic attempt.
On reaching North House, he set aside his cogitations, went up the steps, and rapped on the door. He’d arranged with Melissa to be there at a quarter to eleven, and it was close to that time.
The door swung open, and she walked out, garbed in her pelisse and with her bonnet and gloves already on. Her gaze immediately raked him as if checking for damage.
Apparently reassured, she stepped forward and took his arm, looking around as she did.
When the door shut behind her, she stated, “I’m not at all sure parading before a potential assassin is a good idea.”
Inwardly buoyed by her open concern for him, he steadied her down the steps to the pavement. “If they haven’t already made an appearance, I seriously doubt anything will happen on our way back.”
His mild reply did not, apparently, reassure her; she humphed in response, and as they strolled—quite swiftly—back to Carsely House, she kept a tight hold on his arm and constantly scanned their surroundings.
As he’d predicted, they reached Carsely House without incident, without even sighting anyone suspicious.
After helping Melissa remove her coat and handing it and her bonnet to Crosby, Julian ushered her into the study, where they found his brothers already waiting.
Both immediately came to their feet.
Melissa smiled and waved at them to sit. “Standing on ceremony is going to become tedious—let’s dispense with it between us.”
Felix and Damian grinned and murmured ready agreement. They waited until she sank into the chair to one side of the fireplace, then as Julian claimed his usual chair opposite, Felix and Damian relaxed into the other two chairs grouped before the hearth.
Damian looked from Melissa to Julian. “So, where should we start? From what Felix has told me, I gather this latest effort wasn’t the first attempt on your life.”
Julian caught Melissa’s eye and smothered the instinctive urge to make light of what had occurred. “It seems not,” he admitted.
“And,” Melissa said, tugging off her gloves, “there have been other strange happenings as well, like the mystery Irishman.” She fixed Julian with a level look. “Why not start by listing all the incidents? Perhaps there’s a pattern.”
He held her gaze, then cast a swift glance at Felix. “Actually, the first attempt to at least injure me occurred before I came down to London.”
“What?” Both Melissa and Damian stared at him. Melissa added, “You haven’t mentioned that before.”
“I didn’t know what to make of it at the time, and I still don’t.” Briefly, he described the thorn that had been found wedged into his saddle. “Luckily, because Argus, my mount, went slightly lame and I took out Regis, my father’s hunter, who needed the run, I had to use a different saddle, and in putting my saddle away, the groom found the thorn.”
Resting his forearms on his knees, Felix leaned forward. “You’ve never had any such attacks before? While you were in Ireland?”
He shook his head. “I’ve received threats, and frankly, there’d be few of us in my section in Ireland who haven’t had some, but actual attempts? No. Nothing.”
