Page 50 of Finding Hope
“It is hard to say, but I would think the risk of being caught too great. I must show this to Westwood.” Faith started towards the door, but Hope grabbed her arm.
“I do not want to stay here alone,” she pleaded.
“Then put on a wrapper and we will go down together.”
Max would have confrontedLady Matilda at the time if Westwood had not restrained him. Instead, he had ushered Max into his own study and thrust a glass of brandy in his hands. He trusted all his friends, but Westwood was his best friend and now also Hope’s brother-in-law.
“If someone has shot at Hope because of me…having seen how close I have come to losing her…I have to do something, Dom. I have to speak with Lady Matilda.”
“I understand, but would it not be better to enquire if she left Miss Cunningham’s sight for a time before accusing them of attempted murder over a feather? No one saw her there, and why would she do such a thing?” He shook his head. “It makes no sense. I still think it much more likely to have been an accident,” Westwood said reasonably.
Max sighed heavily and leaned his head over the back of the armchair. He closed his eyes and tried to think of the best solution. He could not shake the feeling someone had deliberately shot at him or Hope. If they meant harm, would they stop at that?
There was a soft knock at the door. “Enter,” he called. There, on the threshold, was Hope, standing with her sister, the new Lady Westwood. Her hair was plaited, and the bandage was still wrapped around her head. She wore a thick dressing gown that was so prim and girlish it was hard not to smile, but from the look on her face, there was nothing to smile about. He jumped out of his chair and went to her, taking her hands in his. She was shaking. “What has happened?”
Lady Westwood handed him a letter. “This has just been slipped under her door.”
He took it and read it with a muttered curse.
“There have been others, my lord,” Lady Westwood said.
He looked from her to Hope, and he could tell from the expression on her face that it was true. He led her to one of the sofas and sat down with her, still holding her hands.
“Tell me about them,” he said gently.
She took a deep breath, then said hesitantly, “It started the day we arrived. At first, they didn’t seem threatening, but then I could not be sure. This one leaves little doubt.” A tear rolled down her face and Max wanted to kiss it away. He wanted to draw her into his arms and never let her go.
“Why did you not tell me?” He felt unconscionably hurt. Friends told each other these things. “I wish to see all the letters, if you please.”
“I think it might be wise to post guards on that hallway, and perhaps even have the maid sleep with her at night,” Westwood said, having read the note for himself.
“I think we should move her to a different room and not tell anyone,” Max countered.
“Faith and I could exchange places with her. Then it would not be so obvious,” Westwood suggested. “We are more likely to catch the person if they do not realize she has told us.”
Max wanted to put Hope in a tower where no one else could reach her until they found out who was doing this. “How do you propose we catch her?” he asked.
“We were thinking perhaps a trap,” Lady Westwood said. “If Lady Matilda is responsible, that should not be too difficult. Hope said she has already tried to seek you out once.”
He ran his hand through his hair. “Yes. Do you have an idea?”
“The simplest solution would be to find a way for her to write something. If we can compare the two, then that would give us some evidence.”
“We also have the feather,” Westwood reminded them.
“What feather?” Hope asked.
“We found a red feather where we think the shooter was waiting.”
“And Lady Matilda was wearing a red feather this morning? I confess I did not notice.” She frowned, as if trying to picture her.
“Yes,” he confirmed.
‘Why would Lady Matilda have been wearing a riding hat if she was not hunting? Were the ladies not sewing for the parish church?” Hope asked.
“Apparently, the younger ladies rode over to the Cunningham estate to see the puppies,” he explained.
“I see.” She shook her head. “I have never taken Lady Matilda as a malicious person. There must be an easier way to compromise someone without removing all the competition.”
