Page 62 of An Unforgettable Ball at Bromenville Hall

“This is outrageous,” he said, his tone something that Maximilian had never encountered before. “You have someone lurking about in your rock pile trying to kill not just you but the little maid you are fond of?”

“That is about the extent of it.”

“You know what this reeks of?” Mallen asked, his voice still hard. “Outside of malice, discontent, and other maladies of the mind?”

“What?”

“Jealousy.”

“Jeal –”

“To me, and this is just my opinion mind, these are the attacks of a jealous woman.”

Maximilian froze. “You are thinking of Sophia, are you not?”

“Indeed I am. Consider it,” he said, leaning forward. “Sophia perhaps changed her mind about what she wanted from you. Now she wants you back and discovers she cannot have you. So, she will slay what she cannot have. If she cannot have you, no one will.”

“And thus, she lashes out at the woman Iaminterested in.”

“Exactly.”

Maximilian shook his head. “Edmund, I cannot see Sophia – of all people – running about in my castle trying to kill me. Whoever this is knows that castle like one born there. Sophia was inside it, what, twice?”

“No one says it is she herself,” Edmund said, uncrossing and recrossing his legs. “My guess is she is behind it and has one of your servants in her pocket.”

“But how would she know of my affection for Eugenia?”

Mallen held his snifter up to the light as though admiring the color of the brandy. “Have you been circumspect?”

“Er, well...”

“My guess is the entire place knows. Am I correct?”

“Yes.”

“Then, dear boy, all you have to do is weed out the spying, would-be murderer from amidst the, um … just how many servants do you have?”

Maximilian stared at the fire. “Too many to count on one hand.”

“So, there you go. Find Sophia’s little pet, and you are free to marry - what is her name?”

“Eugenia.”

Edmund smiled. “That is a lovely name, Eugenia. While I am disappointed she has no wealth or titles to add to your vast collection, I am very happy for you. Have you asked her to marry you?”

“Not with all this going on,” Maximilian replied with a sigh. “Plus, I only just admitted it to myself that I do indeed love her.”

“I expect her feelings are equally strong?”

“They were,” Maximilian breathed another deep sigh. “Until the rogue tried to throw her off the battlements. Now she is frightened and traumatized, refusing to leave her rooms.”

“There is a cure for that,” Edmund said, sipping his brandy and watching Maximilian over the rim of his glass.

Maximilian perked up, interested, excited. “There is? What?”

“It’s called time, old boy. Give her time. And love, which I know you have in plenty. I suspect she is a tough girl, is she not? For I cannot see you falling in love with anything less than your equal in strength and courage. You might marry a milksop, but love a milksop?” Edmund grinned and sipped his brandy. “Not you.”

“Perhaps that is one of the reasons I cannot tolerate Lady Helena,” Maximilian admitted. “She is beautiful, but she is also the perfect noble wife in all things. She could never love the horses the way I do, was bored silly in the stable. Eugenia, on the other hand, was thrilled to watch a foal’s birth, did not hesitate to get into the straw and muck. She even faced down my stepmother.”