Free of Felix’s weight, Julian rolled onto his stomach, crawled out, and joined his brother.
They sat and stared while their hearts slowed. From the floor, what might have happened was plain to see.
“I think we’re even,” Julian said. “If you hadn’t launched yourself over the desk and knocked me down, I would have been crushed between the bookcase and the desk.”
And he would, almost certainly, have died.
After a moment, Felix said, “I saw all those ledgers passing before my eyes and knew I’d regret letting you die.”
They both managed a shaky laugh.
Felix glanced toward the door. “No one’s come.”
“Crosby told me all the staff have been coopted to polish the silver before packing it to be sent to the castle.”
The wedding was three days away, and the atmosphere in the house was approaching frenzied.
Julian hauled in a deep breath and exhaled. Then he drew in another breath, pushed to his feet, and extended a hand to Felix. “You all right?”
Felix gripped the proffered hand and allowed Julian to haul him upright. “I think so. Well, other than several bruises from the books.” Looking at the fallen bookcase, Felix frowned. “There are wires. Why are there wires?”
Julian looked and saw the fine wires looping over the back of the bookcase in a pattern that was plainly deliberate. The wires twisted together, and one end ran upward to some sort of contraption that had sat on the bookcase’s top, from which steel rods now protruded; the rods had pushed the top of the case away from the wall. The wires’ other ends passed through the back of the case, threaded through tiny holes all along each shelf. Julian crouched and looked at the books that had fallen out, then grunted and rose. “All the books have wires looped through the spines.”
He stepped to the wall and examined the remnants of the bolts that had once anchored the bookcase to the wall.
Felix came to peer as well. “They’ve been cut!”
Grim-faced, Julian nodded. “Someone knew how to make the case tippable and how to rig it so that when a book was pulled out, the entire case would fall.”
“That’s…ingenious.”
It truly was. Someone understood mechanics. Julian shook his head. “I can’t imagine who might have done this.” He put a hand to the bookcase and tested the weight. “This isn’t something you and I can clear up—I’ll have to tell Crosby and get him to deal with it.”
Felix looked at him. “This is serious. A lethal trap laid inside Carsely House—in your study, for heaven’s sake!”
Grimly, he nodded. “The point hasn’t escaped me. The house should have been safe, but either someone broke in, or the attacker, or someone working for him, is on the staff.”
His gaze resting on the fallen bookcase, Felix blew out a breath. “At least we’re leaving for the castle tomorrow.”
“And most of those in this house are going with us.”
Felix’s face fell. He looked at Julian. When, face set, Julian simply stared back, Felix asked, “What are we going to do?” Then he swallowed and amended, “What can we do?”
“Exactly.” Lips thinning, Julian looked at the bookcase, then, exasperated, raked a hand through his hair. “At this moment, with the wedding so close, we can’t do anything constructive.” He thought, then added, “As far as I can see, our only way forward is to work out who did this, lay our hands on them, then assuming they aren’t the principal perpetrator, follow the trail from them to whoever is.” He imagined that, then exhaled. “And the truth is that all of that will be very much easier at the castle, given I’m lord and master there.”
Chapter 9
Their wedding day dawned bright and clear—a perfect summer day for the perfect wedding of the ton’s perfect couple.
The point wasn’t lost on Melissa, but she was almost taken aback by the intensity of the surging joy that swept her up and buoyed her on, into the events of their most momentous of days.
Over the past weeks, she and Julian had spent at least a portion of every day together. Over that time, she’d constantly questioned her decision—to go forward with him and embrace love, if it came, within their marriage—but at no time had she detected even a quiver in her inner certainty or in his steadfast commitment to what had formed in her mind as their ideal.
Their definition of their perfect match.
Everything had fallen into place, exactly as if Lottie’s view that their marriage was fated was, in fact, the case. The kisses and increasingly blatant caresses they’d shared had only added to that conviction.
So now she was there, and their wedding day had dawned, and soon they would be man and wife. She’d expected to feel some degree of hesitation, of uncertainty. Instead, all she felt was eagerness and an impatience to have the day done.
