A Shadowed Charade (The Lockwood Family #4)

Chapter 17

Chapter Seventeen

As Melody entered the gardens of Brockhall Manor, she took a deep breath, steeling herself for the most difficult conversation ahead. She wasn’t entirely convinced that Artemis was behind Elodie’s abduction, but she needed to be sure. Quite frankly, she didn’t think he was clever enough to be involved in espionage.

She found Artemis sitting near a bed of crops, meticulously sketching plants in his journal. When he noticed her approach, he glanced up briefly. “Lady Melody,” he greeted.

“Artemis,” she responded, her tone more serious. “I need to?—”

He put his hand up, cutting her off. “Give me a moment,” he said, his attention returning to the plants as he added a few more lines to his sketch. Only after what felt like an unnecessarily long pause did he finally set the book aside and stand. “What can I do for you, my lady?”

Melody frowned, not in the mood for pleasantries. “Have you been out here all day?”

“I have,” Artemis replied proudly. “I have been cataloging all the plants in your gardens.”

“For what purpose?”

Artemis sputtered as if the answer should have been obvious. “For your own knowledge, of course! You would not want to be unaware of your gardens’ flora.”

Melody sighed. That was the least of her concerns. She decided to say what needed to be said and be done with it. “Did you hear that Elodie has been abducted?”

His eyes widened. “I did not hear that. How dreadful.”

“Have you seen or heard anything unusual while you have been out here?”

“No, but I was rather preoccupied with these fascinating plants,” Artemis replied, gently stroking the petals of a nearby flower.

Melody had to admit that Artemis was rather convincing, but she wasn’t done with her questions. “And you have been alone this entire time?”

“Yes, why would you…” Artemis’s voice trailed off and his expression darkened as realization dawned. “You think I had something to do with Lady Elodie’s abduction, don’t you?”

“I don’t know what to think,” she admitted, her frustration creeping into her voice.

Artemis narrowed his eyes, clearly insulted. “What reason would I have to abduct Lady Elodie? And if I had, why would I remain in plain sight?”

“All I know,” Melody said, meeting his gaze steadily, “is that my sister is missing, and I would do anything to find her.”

He scoffed. “You are barking up the wrong tree. I am tired of these accusations from you and your suitor.”

“I have no suitor,” Melody responded.

Artemis tilted his head towards the manor. “I believe Lord Emberly would disagree,” he said, gesturing towards the veranda where Wesley stood, his sharp eyes searching the gardens.

“Whatever you may think is between Lord Emberly and me, you are mistaken.”

“Are you sure about that?” Artemis challenged, raising an eyebrow. “Because it looks inevitable from where I stand.”

Melody stepped closer, her irritation growing. “I assure you, you are wrong.”

Artemis looked her over thoughtfully. “Well then, if that is the case, would you consider marrying me?”

Melody reared back. “I beg your pardon?”

“It would make perfect sense for us to wed,” Artemis said as if they were discussing nothing more significant than the weather. “You need a husband, and I need a wife. Simple.”

“That is your reasoning for us to wed?”

Artemis shrugged. “I want to focus on my research, and you can go about doing… whatever it is that women do.”

Melody’s disbelief turned into anger. “My answer is no.”

“Very well,” Artemis said, utterly unfazed by her rejection. “Will there be anything else? I have work to do.”

She gaped at him, unable to believe his indifference. “You are not upset?”

“Why would I be?” Artemis asked, looking genuinely confused.

“I just turned down your offer of marriage.”

Artemis merely blinked. “I will find a wife eventually. No need to make a fuss over it.” Then with a dismissive wave, he returned to his plants, leaving Melody stunned.

She stared at Artemis for a long moment before spinning on her heel. There was no question in her mind—Artemis had nothing to do with Elodie’s abduction. His devotion to plants eclipsed all other interests. He cared for nothing but his precious flowers and research.

As Melody approached Wesley, he straightened from the wall, his expression solemn. “Well, what did you discover?”

“Artemis is a muttonhead,” she muttered.

He smiled. “I won’t disagree with you there.”

“After I questioned him about Elodie, he had the audacity to ask me to marry him.”

Wesley’s smile vanished, his posture growing rigid. “I take it that you turned him down.”

Melody tossed her hands up in the air. “Of course I turned him down. I could never be married to that man. He cares more for plants than anything else.”

A faint wince crossed Wesley’s features. “Artemis mentioned that he intended to offer for you, but I didn’t think he would be so bold as to do it under these circumstances.”

Melody pressed her lips together. “You knew and didn’t warn me?”

“I should have,” he admitted, his voice tinged with regret. “Forgive me.”

She sighed, realizing she wasn’t truly angry with Wesley. It was herself she was frustrated with. She felt helpless in her inability to find her sister. All she wanted was to bring Elodie home and end this nightmare. “I forgive you.”

Wesley stepped closer, the warmth of his presence drawing her in as she tilted her head to meet his gaze. His eyes held a quiet intensity that made her feel seen. “We will find Elodie.”

“How?” she asked. “The only suspect we had is a dolt.”

“Jasper is out right now looking for the footman.”

“And what if he doesn’t find him?”

Wesley placed a comforting hand on her sleeve. “The worst part about an investigation is waiting.”

Melody gave him a weak smile. “Patience is not exactly my strong suit.”

“There is nothing wrong with that,” he said, his tone encouraging. “But you are strong.”

“I don’t feel strong.”

His eyes remained on her, unwavering. “Being strong does not happen overnight. You became strong by overcoming everything that was meant to destroy you.”

Melody lowered her gaze to the lapels of his jacket. His words cut through her fear, offering a flicker of hope, but all she could think about was Elodie. “You are kind, but all I want to do is find my sister.”

“And we will,” he stated. “I made a promise to you, and I intend to keep it.”

In that quiet moment, Melody felt vulnerable, more so than she had ever allowed herself to be in front of anyone. But with Wesley, she didn’t feel judged or weak—just safe enough to admit the truth. “I am scared,” she whispered.

“You? Scared?” Wesley teased.

She brought her gaze back up. “I am being serious.”

Wesley’s eyes softened with understanding, the kind of look that made her want to stay in that moment, lingering in his gaze. “Aren’t you the same person who told me you didn’t need my help?” he asked. “Where is that fire, that fierceness?”

“It is gone.”

“No,” Wesley assured her. “It is not gone. It is still there, in your heart. You just have to believe it.”

As Melody stared into Wesley’s eyes, searching for the strength to continue, she realized she loved this man. That thought sent a wave of emotions coursing through her. She had always valued her independence and her ability to handle things on her own. But this feeling? It was different, more profound than anything she had experienced. And yet, with her sister missing, there was no time to dwell on these emotions.

She took a small step back and his hand dropped to the side. “I should go inside.”

Wesley’s gaze lingered on her as though he wanted to say more, but instead, he simply tipped his head. “Allow me to escort you inside.”

No.

The word echoed in her mind, though she couldn’t say it aloud. She wanted—no, needed —to be alone. She didn’t trust herself around Wesley, not after realizing the depth of her feelings.

Melody put her hand up. “I need a moment alone.”

Wesley’s disappointment was palpable, but he didn’t fight her request. “Very well. I shall inform you at once if I discover anything of importance.”

“Thank you.”

Without waiting for a response, Melody brushed past him. She could practically feel his gaze on her back as she hurried inside the manor, desperate for a moment to collect herself, to push away the whirlwind of emotions that had come crashing over her.

Melody stepped into the manor and saw her mother at the far end of the corridor, deep in conversation with Mr. Bramwell.

“There you are, Child,” her mother said, her voice fraught with worry. “I have been looking everywhere for you.”

“I was out in the gardens with Artemis and Lord Emberly,” Melody explained.

As she approached, Mr. Bramwell’s eyes settled on her, filled with a pity that made her stomach tighten. “You poor, brave thing,” he said. “I can’t imagine what your family must be going through at the moment, what with Elodie being abducted and all.”

Melody’s steps faltered. “How did you know about that?” she asked, her voice holding a slight edge.

Her mother interjected. “Mr. Bramwell was gracious enough to call upon us, and we shared the devastating news with him.”

Mr. Bramwell reached for Melody’s gloved hand. “Please, let me know if there is anything I can do for you. Rest assured, I will keep this between us.”

Though his touch felt intrusive, Melody fought the urge to pull her hand away, not wanting to appear rude or ungrateful. “Thank you, Mr. Bramwell.”

“I shall be praying for your family during this most difficult time,” Mr. Bramwell continued as he held her hand.

“Well, I do thank you,” Melody replied, taking a small step back to create distance as she gently freed her hand.

Her mother’s gaze shifted back to Melody, the red-rimmed eyes betraying the deep exhaustion and worry she carried. “Your father and I do not want you to leave this manor. Not for any reason. Not until Elodie is back home, safe.”

“I understand.”

Reaching up, her mother cupped her right cheek. “I couldn’t bear it if something happened to you, too,” she whispered. “I am already struggling with the thought that Elodie has been taken. My heart can’t take much more.”

Melody placed her hand over her mother’s, trying to offer what little comfort she could. “We will get Elodie back.”

Her mother’s eyes flickered with doubt as she pulled away. “The constable believes that Elodie has run away. Is that what you believe?”

“Heavens, no. Elodie wouldn’t have left on her own.”

Her mother offered her a grateful look. “I always feared that Elodie would bring trouble to our doorstep, but I never imagined this.” Her words were soft, resigned.

Melody knew she had to be brave, for both of their sakes. “Elodie is many things, but she is not reckless with her safety. She will find a way back to us.”

“Let us hope you are right,” her mother said, turning slightly. “Just promise me that you will stay indoors.”

Melody mustered up a smile on her lips. “I promise.” There. It was what her mother needed to hear, not the truth.

As her mother turned and walked away, Melody’s heart ached. She had made the promise, but she knew full well she would not keep it. There was too much at stake, and Elodie needed her. She could not just sit and wait. Not now. Not ever.

Her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of Mr. Bramwell clearing his throat. “I suppose I should take my leave. Unless, of course, you would prefer to continue our conversation in the gardens?”

“No, thank you,” she replied. “My mother has requested I remain inside for the time being, and I shall respect her wishes.”

The vicar stood rooted in his spot for a long moment before he bowed. “Then I shall leave you to it, my lady.”

Melody watched him walk away, his figure disappearing down the corridor with measured, deliberate steps. Something about his visit unsettled her. Why had he come today, of all days? She couldn’t help but wonder if there was more to his visit than he let on.

Wesley sat in the study, swirling the port in his glass as he watched Lord Dallington pace the length of the room, his forehead creased with worry. He understood the marquess’s frustration. Elodie had been missing for hours, and they were no closer to finding her or identifying her abductor. The entire household was on edge, and dinner was a silent, tense affair.

Lord Belview, seated across from him, sighed deeply as he set his half-full glass on the table. “I should retire. I am leaving at first light to ride out to my estate. I will bring back every available man to help with the search for Elodie. I refuse to sit back and do nothing.”

“We could use all the help we can get,” Wesley responded.

His friend stood, running a hand through his hair. “I just keep replaying the last conversation I had with Elodie. We were arguing about pickles, of all things.”

“Pickles?” Wesley echoed.

“Yes, and at the time, it seemed so important,” Lord Belview admitted with a shake of his head. “Now, I just wish I had not wasted that moment on something so trivial.”

Wesley met his friend’s gaze. “We will get her back,” he responded, his words steady, even if doubt gnawed at him.

Lord Belview’s expression grew determined. “We will, even if it is the last thing that I do.”

“It won’t come to that,” Wesley said. He understood how Lord Belview felt. Elodie had disappeared, and every moment that passed without a word made her rescue feel increasingly impossible.

Lord Belview clenched his fists as he spoke. “Let’s hope not, but I will do whatever it takes to get her back.” His voice cracked slightly. “I can’t lose her… not now.”

Wesley remained silent for a moment, watching his friend struggle. He knew that Lord Belview harbored deeper feelings for Elodie than he was willing to admit. It was clear now more than ever how deeply her abduction had shaken him. “We will find her,” he assured Belview, hoping he wasn’t making a promise he couldn’t keep.

Lord Belview’s eyes grew moist. “I hope so,” he said before he departed from the room.

The silence that followed felt suffocating, but it was broken by Lord Dallington’s sharp, demanding voice. “Why haven’t we heard anything? If it is a ransom they want, where is the demand? Why the silence?”

Wesley fought the urge to reveal what he knew. The abduction wasn’t about money; it was about Melody. The enemy wanted her, but he could not bring himself to say it out loud. “I don’t rightly know,” he said instead.

A shadow crossed Lord Dallington’s features. “I would give everything I have for Elodie’s safe return.”

“I know,” Wesley said, rising. “We will get her back.”

Lord Dallington frowned. “You keep saying that, but how can you be so sure? The constable believes she ran off, and I have no idea where that blasted Bow Street Runner is.”

“Jasper is chasing down leads,” Wesley remarked.

Lord Dallington scoffed. “Not fast enough, if you ask me.”

Wesley couldn’t help but smile faintly. The man sounded remarkably like his daughter, Melody. It seemed that impatience was a family trait.

With a glance at the darkened window, Wesley suggested, “It is late. Why don’t you go to Lady Dallington?”

Lord Dallington’s shoulders sagged slightly. “I don’t know if I can sleep, but you are right. I should be with Catherine.”

“Go to her, my lord,” Wesley encouraged. “I will send word if anything new arises.”

“Thank you,” Lord Dallington said before departing the room.

Wesley sank back into his chair, picking up his glass of port and staring into the liquid. His mind drifted to Melody. She had retired earlier, but his concern for her safety gnawed at him. He debated whether to check on her when the door creaked open, and White, the butler, appeared.

“My lord, your sister, Lady Rosella?—”

Before White could finish, Rosella, tall and dark-haired, swept into the room, cutting him off. “Brother, you look awful,” she declared with a half-smile.

Wesley stood to greet her, his tone dry. “Charming as ever, Rosella.”

Rosella’s sharp eyes scanned his face. “What is wrong?”

“Where to start?” Wesley gestured towards a chair. “Lady Elodie has been abducted and we are no closer to finding her than we were this morning.”

His sister’s expression grew serious as she took a seat. “It is a good thing I am here, then. The spymaster sent me. He was concerned that you might be distracted.”

Wesley frowned. “Distracted? By what?”

She gave him a knowing look. “This case bears an eerie resemblance to what happened with Dinah.”

His jaw tightened. “I do not want to talk about Dinah.”

“You never do,” Rosella responded, “but that doesn’t change the fact that we need to focus on finding Elodie.”

“I can handle it,” Wesley insisted.

She leaned forward, her gaze softening for a moment. “I do not doubt that, but I care about Lady Melody, too. She is my friend, and I won’t sit idly by if there is something I can do to help.”

Wesley knew he had a choice. He could turn her away, but knowing Rosella, she wouldn’t go anywhere. She was as stubborn as he was—and just as skilled. It seemed pointless to argue.

With a resigned sigh, he nodded. “All right. What do you wish to know?”

“Start from the beginning,” Rosella said, leaning back in her seat, her sharp eyes focused on him.

Wesley glanced at the long clock in the corner, noting the late hour. “Lady Elodie was abducted to lure Lady Melody out. We haven’t received any demands yet, but I am certain we will.”

Rosella’s expression didn’t change as she listened intently. “And who are your suspects?”

Wesley winced slightly, rubbing the back of his neck. “I initially suspected Mr. Artemis Nelson. His knowledge of plants, especially poisons, made him the perfect candidate for a French spy. But after speaking with him, I am beginning to think he is just an imbecile. Not the kind of man capable of orchestrating something like this. However, we do believe a footman is involved in Elodie’s abduction. Watkins is currently looking into that.”

Rosella nodded thoughtfully. “How is Watkins? I haven’t seen him in some time.”

“He is well,” Wesley replied, grateful for the shift in conversation.

His sister smiled faintly. “It is nice that you have someone to confide in. I do not have the same luxury with my servants.”

Wesley lifted his brow. “You could come home anytime, you know. Mother would be thrilled.”

“Mother and I have a complicated past,” Rosella said with a swipe of her hand. “She wants me to behave like a proper lady and I am not interested in that life.”

He studied his sister. “You would rather be a spinster?”

Rosella clasped her hands in front of her. “Being a spinster gives me the freedom I so desperately crave. I don’t have to answer to anyone. More importantly, it allows me to continue my work as an agent without constraints.”

“Don’t you want more?” Wesley asked, leaning forward. “A family? Children?”

For a brief moment, Rosella’s eyes flickered with something resembling regret as she glanced down at her hands. “I have made peace with my choices. It is best if you did as well.”

Wesley moved to sit on the edge of his seat. “You are my sister, and I support you in whatever you want to do with your life. I just want to make sure you are happy.”

“Happy?” she repeated, a touch of bitterness creeping into her voice. “Is anyone truly happy?”

An image of Melody flashed in Wesley’s mind. How could she smile and laugh, even amidst the chaos around her? She seemed to find joy in the smallest things.

“You are smiling,” Rosella remarked.

He wiped the smile from his lips. “I was thinking…”

“About Melody,” she finished for him, a smirk on her lips. “Don’t even bother denying it. From the moment I met her, I knew she was perfect for you. The way she sees the world is extraordinary. She has not been tainted by the darkness of our work, by what we do and who we have become.”

Wesley knew he couldn’t deny the truth in his sister’s words. Melody was different. She always had been. She had not been hardened by their world of secrets, lies and danger. And that was precisely why he found himself drawn to her. She was everything he did not realize he needed. But loving her, or admitting to it, felt like inviting a storm into both of their lives.

Rosella’s eyes softened. “Do not let her slip away, Wesley. She is the kind of woman who can make you happy, even if you do not think it is possible.”

Wesley hesitated before sharing, “I told her about Dinah.”

Her eyes widened slightly. “You did? And what did she say?”

Wesley settled back into his chair, exhaling slowly. “She told me that Dinah’s death wasn’t my fault.”

“It wasn’t. Dinah knew the risks. We all do, being in this line of work.”

“I was supposed to protect her,” he said, his voice tightening with the weight of his old guilt.

Rosella leaned forward and placed her hand on his sleeve. “You did the best you could with what you knew then.”

Wesley knew she meant to comfort him, but the words didn’t lift the burden from his heart. Instead, they reminded him of his failures. But this time had to be different. He couldn’t fail Melody. He wouldn’t.

In a steady voice, Wesley revealed, “We believe the same French spy who killed Dinah has been murdering others by placing oleander in their fires.”

“And by others, you mean Father?”

“I do, and we believe that same spy is after Lady Melody now.”

Rosella withdrew her hand, her eyes darkening with a mix of grief and anger. “I haven’t thought of Father in some time now,” she admitted. “I can’t do what I do, believing that one day I will end up like him.”

“Rosella…” he began.

Abruptly, she rose from her seat and crossed to the window, staring into the night. “When Father was murdered, I realized that no one—no matter how skilled or careful—is invincible. We all die when it is our time.” Her voice wavered with unspoken pain.

Rising, he moved to her side. “We will catch Father’s killer. I promise you that.”

Rosella turned to face him, her eyes filled with unshed tears. “Will that change anything? He is still dead. Nothing we do will bring him back.”

“No, but it will give us some answers.”

Tears slipped down Rosella’s cheeks, and her voice broke. “I want to be the one who catches Father’s killer.”

“Then stay. Help us,” Wesley said.

Without warning, Rosella wrapped her arms around him, her body shaking with sobs. Wesley was taken aback. His sister was not one to show her emotions so openly. He held her close. It was rare to see her so vulnerable, and it hit him just how much she had been carrying on her own.

After a long moment, Rosella stepped out of his arms, wiping at her tear-streaked cheeks. “I am sorry.”

“You have nothing to apologize for,” he assured her. “You are allowed to feel this.”

She took a deep, steadying breath. “I am ready to get to work,” she said, determination hardening her voice again. “Let us catch Father’s killer.”