“Thank you,” I told Cecelia, striding back to the bookcase to select a different book on the same subject. “Would you be willing to show us the exact place where you spotted him?”
“Certainly, at least within a few yards.”
“Good,” I said, scanning the next bookcase. “We’ll go in a carriage together then.”
“You meannow?” Melbourne interjected. “We can’t go now. We have archery in an hour.”
Cecelia nodded. “It’s essential we showcase our skills, and consequently, prove why the others won’t be in the competition much longer. Some are bound to seek favors from us in exchange for their tokens if they expect to be dismissed in short order.” She paused, tilting her head. “We could go after dinner. Although we would miss mingling in the game room.”
“I’ll make your excuses,” Maxwell assured her. “And that will do. The days are long just now, but we’ll bring along lanterns, just in case.”
I glanced at Maxwell, his jaw tense, his eyes lined with worry. “You realize this confirms Emmett is alive, or at least was several days after he vanished.”
“But why hasn’t he sent word?” Maxwell wondered, rubbing his chin. “It’s so unlike him. And why hasn’t he returned home?”
“Perhaps he fears those robed men will be waiting for him,” I suggested.
Maxwell stilled. “That must be it. And when they realized they couldn’t have Emmett, they turned their attention to me.”
“You still haven’t told us what happened,” Melbourne pointed out, and I allowed Maxwell several minutes to explain the attempted kidnapping in the garden.
I flipped through the book in my hands impatiently until he finished the story. “Have you seen anything like the moth symbol anywhere?” I asked, hoping for some clue as to the identity of the hunters.
“I have not,” Cecelia said, glancing expectantly at Melbourne.
Melbourne chewed on his lower lip. “I feel like … I may have. I just can’t for the life of me remember where.”
Maxwell met my eyes. “Think on it, Melbourne. If you remember, call on me with due haste.”
Melbourne smiled at him. “You would have me call on you, good sir? I’m honored.”
I sighed heavily.
After Melbourne and Cecelia had gone, Maxwell lingered in the library, seemingly lost in thought. I was paying more attention to him than the tome in my hand, so I was startled by the sharp bite of a papercut. I grunted, watching the blood well up along my left index finger before bringing it to my lips and sucking on the blood. I knew it would be the same as the robed man’s blood, but I was disappointed nonetheless at its blandness.
“Are you alright?” Maxwell asked.
“Quite.” I removed the finger, putting light pressure on the cut with my other hand. “But I should really be asking you that question.”
He shrugged, looking away. “I’m not sure how I feel. I realize it’s only been a fortnight and no one else is especially concerned, but if Cecelia did see him on the side of the road alone, with no captors dogging his steps, why hasn’t he returned home?”
“His circumstances may be hard to overcome,” I pointed out. “He was likely attacked in his room, if the mattress is any indication. Somehow he escaped their clutches, either while they were attempting to seize him in his bedroom, or as they were transporting him somewhere.” I paused, thinking. “If he could send word to you without fear of a message falling into the wrong hands, I believe he would have. He clearly sent word to someone else.”
“I know. I feel a bit like a fool since he’s been seen, like I’m making something of nothing.”
“Those kidnappers were not nothing, Maxwell. If your assertions about someone in your circle allowing those men entry to the grounds is correct, then I think that further explains why Emmett hasn’t contacted you. Perhaps he knows someone is on their side. Perhaps he even knows who they are, which could be even more dangerous for him.” I chewed on my lower lip, realizing that if that was the case, and Emmett knew who those men were, then this could be the perfect avenue to collect the information I required to meet Vrykolakas’s terms, all while keeping in the family’s good graces. “We need to keep our guard up. Ambrose is surrounded by people all the time, but you … you’re vulnerable. That’s likely why you were targeted and not him.”
Maxwell sent me a wry smile. “Don’t tell me you’re worried about me.”
“You would rather I lie?” The words were out before I could stop them, and I was startled by them myself. Maxwell softened, but there were mixed emotions in his eyes. I was courting his brother after all, not him. We were becoming friends, but … perhaps he desired more? I wouldn’t let myself ponder such possibilities. He was only going to be part of my life for a very short period. I might like him, but I could not become entangled in anything with a human, especially one from a distinguished family, if it wasn’t part of Vrykolakas’s plan. “You’re one of the few people I find I can stand. I would hate to see someone whose company I enjoy so much kidnapped by bandits.”
Maxwell seemed to relax even more at my words. Or did he deflate? I tried to discern disappointment in his countenance, but it eluded me. I’d thought I was good at reading people, prided myself on it, but it turned out that emotions were more complicated than I’d given them credit for. It was easy to see anger, lust, greed … but matters of love were truly another beast altogether.
How I hated it.
“Then perhaps you can be my escort while I’m here,” Maxwell suggested in a teasing tone.
“I think that would be wise,” I agreed, surprising him as I pushed the book I’d been holding back into its place on the bookshelf. Already the bleeding from the papercut had stopped, but I found its persistent sting annoying. “At least whenever you leave the manor. If you can’t go with someone reliable, take me with you.”
