“Actually, I do not think that would be entirely wise,” she at last managed to mutter.
“Why on earth not?” he demanded, his brows lifting as a blush crawled beneath her skin. “Good lord. You fear Edmond would be upset?”
She shrugged. “He is being particularly pigheaded today. I would prefer to avoid a scene.”
“What did he say to you, Brianna?” His lips thinned at her stubborn silence. “Then let me put it this way, did he threaten bodily harm to you or me?”
She shook her head, feeling weary. “I told you, it does not matter.”
“It matters a great deal.”
“Please, Stefan.” She stepped close enough that she could lay her hand on his arm. “I will not have you and Edmond at odds because of me. Just return to the house and I will follow.”
He looked as if he would argue, then, perhaps sensing she was at the end of her tether, he gave a grudging nod.
“Very well.” He moved to the door, pausing to glance over his shoulder. “Brianna.”
“Yes?”
His gaze rested on the faint shadows beneath her eyes. “I do not fear Edmond, nor will I hesitate to throw him from the estate if he chooses to make a pest of himself. You are not only safe at Meadowland, you are safe with me.”
EDMOND HAD PACED STEFAN’S overcrowded office for nearly an hour before his brother at last made a grudging appearance. A fact that did nothing to soothe Edmond’s ragged temper.
His brother religiously devoted his evenings to poring over his tedious ledgers or studying the latest farming journal; nothing was ever allowed to distract him from his ritual, not even Edmond’s rare presence at Meadowland. But on this eve, Edmond was finally forced to send one of the endless footmen to wrench Stefan from hovering behind Brianna as she played on the pianoforte.
He had suspected his brother was vulnerable, but he had not expected the grown man to trail after a slip of a girl as if he were moonstruck.
Hearing approaching footsteps, Edmond sucked in a deep, calming breath as he peered out one of the windows into the darkness beyond.
The entire day, he had concentrated upon the plot to harm Alexander Pavlovich. He had written a dozen letters to warn his comrades in Russia, he had sent a coded missive to Pavlovich in Prussia, and he had made a list of every known associate of Viktor Kazakov. He did not intend to take any risks.
The tasks should have kept him fully occupied, but instead, he could barely concentrate.
Time and time again he had found himself at the door of the library, barely able to keep himself from charging from the room to track down Brianna, only the sheer force of his desire keeping him from giving in to temptation.
To give in to the weakness would prove he was no longer in control of his emotions. Something his pride would not allow.
Instead, he had hidden away like a coward for the day and then grimly pretended indifference as he sat through the interminable dinner watching Stefan and Brianna chat with obvious delight.
At last, he had been driven to this remote office to await Stefan, his pride intact and his mood black as the night sky.
Stefan entered the room and closed the door behind him. “You wished to speak with me?”
Edmond swallowed the harsh words that trembled on his lips.
“Yes. I thought you should know that my suspicions have been confirmed. Those near accidents that have been plaguing you were not accidents at all. They were quite deliberate.”
Stefan leaned against the edge of the desk, appearing more disappointed than shocked.
“You are certain?”
“Quite certain.”
“God, it is unbelievable. So Howard actually…”
“No, it had nothing to do with our contemptible cousin,” Edmond denied. “A pity, really.”
“Then who the devil was it?”