Melissa nodded. “All right. So let’s assume the thorn in the saddle was the first attempt.” Her gaze remained fixed on his face. “What was the next incident?”
Reluctant but resigned, he cataloged the happenings and was taken aback to realize there’d been seven in total, four of which involved the Irishman. “But there was no hint of danger during any of those four incidents.” He frowned. “I really can’t imagine how an Irishman haunting my steps, presumably wanting to speak with me secretly, connects with attempts on my life.”
“Not unless, as I suggested,” Felix said, “it’s the other side of the Irish equation trying to stop you from acting on the message. If you’re dead, there’ll be no danger of that.”
Melissa watched Julian shake his head.
“Trust me,” he said. “The Irish groups fight each other constantly, often murderously, but they are not usually so Machiavellian in their planning, especially not on this side of the Irish Sea.”
He paused, then went on, “And then there’s opportunity. While our mystery Irishman or his Irish opposition could have shot at us in the park, I can’t see how either party could have lodged that thorn in my saddle at the castle and, yesterday, somehow got through the house, onto the roof, happened to see me standing on the terrace below, pushed an urn over, then got out of the house without anyone seeing him.”
Damian wrinkled his nose. “Put like that, the Irishman does sound more like an incidental distraction.”
Julian nodded. “My thoughts exactly.”
“But,” Felix said, “that still leaves us with the thorn, the shot in the park, and the falling urn to explain.”
My thoughts exactly.Melissa saw Julian hesitate, as if inwardly debating some point.
Eventually, he admitted, “Except for Melissa seeing the man on the roof, any of those three incidents, had they succeeded, might have been explained away as an unfortunate accident. However, taken together, especially with the man on the roof, they’re too much to swallow as mere coincidence.”
“No, indeed.” She felt somewhat reassured that he was taking the threat seriously. She looked at Felix and Damian and saw the concern she felt reflected in their features.
She expected one of them to say “So what’s our next step?” but instead, the gong for luncheon resonated through the house.
All three men looked up, then got to their feet. Julian reached for her hand and, when she surrendered it, drew her up. “I forgot to mention—Mama and Uncle Frederick hoped you would join us for luncheon. If you’re free?”
“Yes, of course.” She hadn’t actually thought of luncheon, but her mother knew where she was. “I’ll be delighted to join you.” In truth, she was curious about this household, for which she would soon be responsible.
She walked with Julian to the family dining room, which proved to be a pleasant parlor giving onto the side lawn. She was relieved to see that the small terrace was out of sight around a corner of the building; she wondered whether Julian had thought to have the staff clear the damage and also to suggest that his mother did not need to be informed of an urn falling from the roof. Given that, before strolling into the room, the three brothers all adopted expressions of relaxed unconcern, she felt reasonably confident one of them would have thought to give the necessary orders. She followed their lead, smiling easily as she greeted Veronica, who had insisted she call her by her first name, and Frederick, a dapper and kindly gentleman.
They all sat about the round table, and the butler, Crosby, assisted by two footmen, ferried out the platters.
The countess was patently delighted to have Melissa there, and the conversation progressed in bright, breezy, and engaging fashion and was never allowed to lag. In ensuring the latter, the countess was aided and abetted by her sons, who strove to keep the atmosphere lighthearted and far removed from anything serious. Melissa got the distinct impression that none of the countess’s sons wished her to become alarmed.
For his part, Frederick was keen to encourage Melissa to view herself as one of the family. She found him a gentle soul and quite a dear.
Knowing that Mandy’s relationship with Rufus’s mother was still rather starchy and strained, Melissa hadn’t expected so quickly to feel relaxed in Veronica’s and Frederick’s company, yet there was no denying she did. Both exerted themselves to that end, and she readily responded in kind.
By the end of the meal, they were, indeed, dealing with each other much as family members would, cutting across each other’s comments and amending others, transparently having set aside all constraint.
As everyone pushed back from the table, Julian rose and came to draw out her chair. “Come. I’ll walk you home.”
Veronica and Frederick came to see her off.
In the front hall, Veronica took Melissa’s hand, drew her close, and kissed her cheek. “My dear,” the countess whispered, “you’ve no idea how pleased Frederick and I are that Julian chose you.”
Melissa smiled back. “Thank you.”
After she took her leave of Frederick, Julian gave her his arm and led her to the front door that Crosby promptly opened. She inclined her head to Crosby as she passed, and he bowed; she glimpsed the tiny smile that lifted his lips as he did, and that made her smile as well.
They went down the steps and started along the pavement, and she shifted her smiling gaze to Julian.
He studied her expression, then arched a brow in question.
She chuckled and lightly squeezed his arm. “I’m pleased that I’m finding it so easy to become one of your family. I truly didn’t expect it to be such smooth sailing.”
His smile bloomed as well, and he looked down. After a moment, he said, “I’m glad that’s so, but I feel I should confess that Mama is in alt over the prospect of having another lady at the castle.”
