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“Yes, feel free to put any such worries to bed,” Graeme dryly said.
“So to speak,” Ainsley said with a wink.
Sabrina winced. “That’s a dreadful pun.”
While her cheeks had gone hot, she felt an almost staggering degree of relief at Graeme’s display of affection.
He fetched a plate of food from the sideboard and came to sit beside Sabrina. She smiled at him, no doubt looking like a besotted schoolgirl. And how could she help it? She was madly in love, and he loved her back. It was simply glorious, even if someone might be trying to murder her.
He smiled and tapped her nose, then reached for the teapot. “So, what was old Wilson doing in here?”
“I had asked him to take a look at the bed. He does most of the carpentry and repair work at Lochnagar, so I thought his opinion would be useful.”
Royal looked up from the pile of ham and scones Ainsley had stacked on his plate. “And?”
“He thinks it’s more than likely wood rot.”
Graeme frowned. “What about tampering?”
“He thinks tampering is improbable. The bed is likely the oldest piece of furniture in the house, so rot makes sense.”
“My parents had a positively ancient dining room table, going back to the time of Charles II,” Ainsley said. “It collapsed during my oldest brother’s engagement party. Wood rot. Made a dreadful mess.”
“That must have pleased you,” Royal said.
“Since my brother is a thundering ass, I felt a small degree of satisfaction.”
“But no one was trying to kill your brother at the time, I imagine,” Graeme said.
Ainsley wrinkled her nose.
“It would be quite difficult to sneak into the house and sabotage such a big piece of furniture,” Sabrina pointed out. “One would have to saw or drill through part of the joint, or inflict some other sort of damage. That would surely attract attention.”
“But the house was practically deserted until our arrival,” Graeme pointed out. “It’s not entirely unreasonable to assume that someone could have snuck in to do just that.”
“But how would anyone even have known I was coming?” Sabrina protested. “Mrs. Wilson only had a day’s notice.”
“I admit it’s a short timeline, but hardly impossible.”
“But Mrs. Wilson was here.”
“If Mrs. Wilson was in the kitchen, you could set off a cannon upstairs and she wouldn’t hear it,” Graeme said. “None of the Lochnagar servants heard the bed collapse last night, did they? And that made a hell of a racket.”
Ainsley sighed. “Drat. What do the servants have to say about all these nefarious doings, anyway?”
Royal snorted. “Very little, as usual.”
“So where does that leave us?” Sabrina asked.
When Graeme and Royal exchanged a long glance, her heart sank.
“No,” she said firmly. “I am not leaving. If Ainsley doesn’t feel safe, Royal should certainly take her back to the city. But I’m staying put.”
“Nonsense. If you stay, I stay,” Ainsley stoutly replied.
“Ainsley,” Royal warned.
When his wife put up an imperious hand, he rolled his eyes.
