“I’ll do that.” He bestowed a genuine smile upon me. “I’m glad you joined the competition, Lucian. Things are much more interesting with you around, and dare I say, I feel much safer.”
Safe? With me? I snorted in response.
CHAPTER SEVEN
“That was torturous,” Ambrose proclaimed as he strode into the library, nearly knocking into a crying maid on her way out. He stopped to watch her go before turning to me and Maxwell with a raised eyebrow. “Really? You have nothing better to do than make the help break down in tears while I’m gone?”
“He did it,” Maxwell said, pointing to me. “I’ll warn you not to get on his bad side.”
I scoffed, then shrugged, for he wasn’t wrong.
Maxwell sighed. “Annie was withholding information pertinent to Emmett’s disappearance.”
“Was she now?” Ambrose took a seat to my right. “What sort of information?”
“You called for me, my lord?” Percival appeared in the doorway, standing at attention.
“Come in,” Maxwell told the man.
Ambrose sent me a questioning look, and I leaned in to mutter under my breath, “You’ll see.”
The butler didn’t take a seat, and we didn’t offer him one.
“Percival,” I said, voice even and commanding. “One of your staff claims she informed you of bloody sheets in Emmett’s bedchamber. Apparently you merely told her to dispose of them and set out fresh sheets.”
“And to tell no one about it,” Maxwell added with narrowed eyes.
Percival shifted and glanced at Ambrose. I frowned. There seemed to be some understanding passing between them before the butler roused himself. “You were informed correctly. My staff is instructed to hold their tongues. If I let them gossip, who knows what sort of scandal could befall this house.”
“And you didn’t find bloody sheets concerning?”
“No. I did not. Women sometimes bleed and I wouldn’t doubt one finding her way into the young master’s bed.”
Maxwell scowled. “Emmett does not bring women to his bed, and you know that very well unless you’re the least observant servant in this household.” He took a breath, attempting to rein in his frustration. “I know you’ve seen Emmett grow up in this house, and you’re fond of him, but that doesn’t mean you know what’s best for him, or us. You are to report these things to us at once in the future.”
“It will be so, my lord.”
I pursed my lips, not liking how quickly he was accepting the remonstrance. “Percival, was there anything strange in Emmett’s behavior when you last saw him?”
The butler shrugged. “He was acting his age, as far as I could tell. He’s been sulking more lately, spending more time painting than usual, and going out for more late night strolls.”
“Late night strolls?”
Ambrose waved a hand dismissively. “I do it myself. I’ve run into Emmett on occasion. It does wonders to clear one’s head.”
“If there’s anything else?” Percival asked.
I met Maxwell’s eyes, but he didn’t seem to have anything else to add. “That will be all,” he said.
As soon as Percival had closed the door behind him, Ambrose turned to me with a frown. “Bloody sheets?”
“We think it was those people who tried to take me last night,” Maxwell said.
Ambrose put a hand to his head. “I … I suppose this means we had better keep a close eye on you, brother.”
“We also need to beg a favor of you,” I told Ambrose, who returned my look with a stare. “But first, how was your time with Isabel?”
Ambrose groaned, leaning back into the cushions of the sofa. “I have never heard someone prattling on about their accomplishments for so long. Does she not understand that she should be flatteringme? Is she oblivious to how this works?I’mthe prize, not the other way around.”
