“But,” Melissa insisted, “holding back entirely won’t get us any further forward, and I believe we’re agreed that we can’t continue to let matters slide?”
She looked pointedly and questioningly at Felix, Damian, and finally Julian.
Damian also looked at Julian. “Whoever our madman motivator is, he isn’t going to—indeed, as far as I can see, he has no reason to—stop.”
“And eventually,” Felix added, “there’ll come a day when Melissa isn’t riding ahead of you to scupper his plans, and our fiend will succeed in his aim.”
Julian grimaced, but nodded. “You’re right. Clearly, our motivator isn’t going to stop. He has some reason, some goal, and this is obviously a long-range plan. But given all the above, what’s our best way forward?”
“I agree we can’t investigate the staff as a whole,” Melissa said, “and I accept that it’s likely true that none of those who’ve worked here for decades or who belong to estate families will be the one we’re looking for.” She smiled faintly. “Indeed, that’s something I’ve noted as I’ve been going around learning the household ropes and meeting all the staff—the vast majority have worked here for years and are part of the local community. There are, however, a handful who are more recent additions.”
She looked from one brother to the next, until she met Julian’s eyes. “This household has recently changed from what was essentially a widow-and-bachelor sons’ establishment to that of a socially and politically active married couple. While I only brought with me my maid—who we can also trust—there have, of necessity, been several recent hires. Why don’t we start with them? Not speaking to them directly, not interrogating anyone, but first, purely learning who those potential informants are?”
Julian’s eyes narrowed, then he nodded. “I’ll get Phelps to make up a list of the staff.” He arched a brow at Melissa. “I’ll say that you and I want to go over it to gain a better understanding of our staffing situation both here and in town.”
She nodded. “That’s entirely believable and won’t alert anyone. I’ll mention it to Mrs. Phelps as well.”
Julian continued, “While we trust the Phelpses and the other senior staff, there’s no sense adding further stress at this point by telling them of our suspicions, not until we get some idea of who our informant might be.”
“You can ask for the list to include how long each staff member has worked here,” Felix suggested.
Damian agreed. “That’ll make the newcomers easy to identify, and don’t forget, that thorn in your saddle means you need to go back before the wedding.”
“Before I even went down to London.” Grimly, Julian nodded. “But I agree—concentrating on those hired in the past year or so holds out the best hope for identifying who on the staff is working against us.”
Chapter 12
Two days later, Melissa sat beside Julian in the castle’s gig, and while they bowled along the track leading to one of the estate’s farther-flung farms, she scanned the list the Phelpses, with the help of Hockey and Edgerton, had prepared.
Every now and then, the rocking of the simple carriage as they rounded a bend forced her to look up. As they rattled around another curve, her gaze took in a vista of neat fields, slumbering in gentle midmorning sunshine and bordered by hedgerows, with thick copses dotting the green and golden expanses. There were fallow deer in the area; they’d passed two small herds along the way. The sky was mostly clear, and the mild June sunshine was pleasant, while the breeze was almost nonexistent, barely ruffling the leaves.
As the well-beaten track, bordered by ditches and running between two fields, straightened once more, Melissa returned her attention to the list. “There’s eleven, all told, employed within the past two years. Actually”—she rapidly calculated—“within the past twenty months. Beyond the twenty-month mark, the next most recent hire is over six years ago.”
Julian nodded. “It’s hard to imagine why someone who’s been on staff for more than six years should suddenly turn on the family. So who are the eleven we need to focus on?”
“In order of hiring, the one from twenty months ago is Mitchell, the groom. Then comes Biggins, an undergroom, and Walter, a junior stableman, followed by Richards, a footman, and Cantrell, who’s a junior footman, then Benton, a senior housemaid, Polly Fisher and Enid Wise, both junior maids, Billy Botham, the scullery boy, Joe Carter, a groundsman, and last and most recent, Damian’s valet, Manning.” Melissa glanced at Julian. “Any ideas how to winnow that crowd?”
Julian steered the horse, an older bay gelding, along the track by rote; he knew every inch of these lands and didn’t need to concentrate on the road. “Given the mantrap and the spring gun, it’s tempting to point at Carter, the groundsman, but as we’ve already established that both the mantrap and the spring gun assembly had to have been brought in from outside the estate, then in reality, it could be any of the men. I can’t see any woman, or the scullery boy for that matter, managing to lay and set the mantrap.”
“Hmm. And Carter could have been the one who, on seeing you ride out from the stable, rigged the wire on the bridle path, but so, too, could Mitchell, Biggins, Walter, and even Richards, Cantrell, or Manning.”
“Mitchell, Biggins, and Walter—if our attacker is one of them, then unless he left the stable before Hockey called for our mounts to be saddled, he should have known you would be out with me…” He paused, then went on, “Actually, I’m not sure anyone in the stablewouldhave known you intended to join me rather than go riding somewhere on your own.” He glanced at Melissa. “Did you say you’d be joining me?”
She was silent for a moment, clearly thinking back, then said, “I only mentioned it to Hockey as I rode out. He and I were out by the mounting block. No one else was near enough to hear.”
The track swung left to follow the base of a shallow valley, with rising pasture on the left, studded here and there with mature coppices, while on their right, the fields were replaced by a stand of woodland angling up the valley’s side. The track grew more rutted, furrowed by runoff from the woods, which came right to the edge of the track.
Julian kept the bay trotting onward at a steady pace. “I told Hockey that you’d been detained, but would be along shortly, and others probably overheard that. I didn’t tell anyone you would be joining me.”
“Hmm. Richards helps Phelps in the breakfast parlor most mornings, so he might have heard that we would be riding together, which suggests he isn’t involved, but who else of the indoor staff might have heard of our intentions…” She frowned. “This is getting complicated. I need another sheet of paper—”
A snappingcrackrang out directly beneath them—from under the gig’s seat.
Melissa yelped and clutched the gig’s side.
Julian swore and hauled on the reins as both wheels tipped outward, then in a succession of smaller snapping cracks, splintered and fell apart, and the baseboard beneath the thankfully well-padded seat thumped onto the hard track.
They bumped along for several yards before the experienced yet nevertheless spooked horse consented to respond to the reins and slowed to a walk, then halted.
