Dangerous Diana (Brambridge Novel 3) by Pearl Darling Page A

thrown to the floor and smashed.
    Putting down her stool next to Mrs. Hobbs’ chair, she laid her teacup on top. Grabbing a random table leg, she thrust it into the glowing fire, and poked at it limply.
    “At least we will have lots of firewood,” she said in an effort to cheer up the wan Mrs. Hobbs. But it seemed to have the opposite effect. Mrs. Hobbs burst into a fresh set of tears. Picking up her cup, Melissa sat back down on her stool with a thump. Mr. Hobbs crouched by the fireplace and poked the fire.
    “Oh, I am so sorry, lass,” Mrs. Hobbs sobbed. “We tried so hard to continue your work for you whilst you were on holiday.”
    Melissa blinked. The normally battle-hardened Mrs. Hobbs was as soft as a pussy cat.
    “It was my fault. I must have left the garden door open. They had already finished in the kitchen and were starting in the front room by the time I arrived. They were quite surprised to see me.” Mrs. Hobbs shook her head, and set off in tears again. “They kept demanding ‘ the book, the book’ and so I gave them that beautiful book that you made. They must have seen it when we were dispensing medicines at the back gate. They were desperate for it.”
    “What did they do next?” Melissa asked gently.
    “They took the book and left. The young one spat in my face.” Mrs. Hobbs hiccupped. “No one has spat in my face before. I’m so sorry about your house and your book.”
    “Do not worry about either. I’ve always hated this house and the book I can write again.”
    Mrs. Hobbs sniffed. “I would agree that the house has a rather unwholesome air to it. For the last two weeks it’s been as if there were ghosts here in the night when we’ve been asleep.”
    Melissa shivered. She had thought that too.
    “Perhaps there have been?” Mr. Hobbs suggested. “If they were combing the house for your book, Miss Sumner, then they wouldn’t have found it. We kept it with us in our room along with your takings. It was too precious.”
    “I’m afraid to say that I don’t think that that book was quite what they were seeking.” Melissa inhaled some of the ginger steam from her tea. Momentarily it misted her glasses. Taking them off, she wiped them against her skirts. “Mrs. Hobbs, I’ve just had another visitor in the kitchen. They demanded the book again.”
    “Perhaps it is a different person?” Mrs. Hobbs said hopefully, sitting up slightly.
    “I’m afraid not. They referred to the mess. And this isn’t the first time they have demanded the book. Including your encounter, they’ve now asked four times.”
    “Four?” Mr. Hobbs said. “But…”
    “Once after I was going to sell the house, a second time when they demanded I meet them in St. Giles.”
    “When you went on holiday ,” Mr. Hobbs murmured. Melissa nodded.
    “The third time was when you met them, Mrs. Hobbs, and a fourth time just now in the kitchen.”
    “Were you really on holiday?” Mrs. Hobbs asked, her eyes rounded.
    Melissa chewed her lip. The luxurious bedroom, the attentive staff, her discovery of a man that made her want more, and yet who wanted to use her as bait in order to achieve victory against the Viper—
    “It sometimes felt like a holiday,” she whispered truthfully. Gaining strength in her voice, she continued, “It was unexpected, and I was with a friend.” If Hades wasn’t, then Carter had been. She stopped and reflected. “Did you say, Mrs. Hobbs, that one of the intruders was young?”
    “Yes he was. And he didn’t walk out of the house, he somersaulted!”
    Melissa replaced her glasses on her nose. She put down her teacup on the floor carefully. “Was there anything else unusual about him?”
    Mrs. Hobbs stared at Melissa and slumped in the chair. “I can’t remember. Just like the other man. I saw him, but I can’t remember anything about him, he just seemed to blend into the surrounding room.”
    Before Mrs. Hobbs could collapse into hysterics once more, Mr. Hobbs said quietly,