“Because I’m the one engaged to you,” he said. We were halfway up the main staircase, carrying Harry’s things in from his car. I had his laptop satchel while he carried his overnight bag. My man packed light.

“What does that mean exactly?” I blinked at him. “I feel like there’s a subtext there that I’m not getting.”

“How can I put this delicately?” Harry paused on the landing at the top of the stairs and faced me. “You have an extraordinary knack for getting into trouble.”

My jaw dropped. “I think I’ve been slandered.”

“Perhaps ‘knack’ is the wrong word and I should say ‘gift.’ You have a gift for entering dangerous situations,” he said. I lifted one eyebrow and he added, “Better?”

“Not really. But I am very glad it’s you who came,” I said. I kissed him quick and he smiled. “Is Bella staying with Fee?”

“Yes, and they were both delighted,” he said.

“Fee is going to spoil her.”

“Ridiculously,” he agreed. “It’s worth it, though. I was useless at the office, fearing you might get murdered in your sleep or something.”

“Oh, that’s oddly sweet,” I said.

He hugged me close, and I had to admit I felt braver with him here. The castle was quiet, unnaturally so. It seemed everyone had turned in early after the big scene at dinner.

I wondered if Sunny was in her room and how she was doing. What Trisha had done to her was about the meanest thing I’d ever witnessed. At the same time, I thought about how Sunny had been hidden between the bookshelves where Dooney was murdered. I only had her word that she’d arrived after I found the body and went to get help with Archie.

What if Trisha was right and Sunny was pregnant with Dooney’s child and he rejected Sunny and their baby? Could she have murdered him in revenge? It didn’t seem likely given how passive Sunny seemed, but perhaps she’d been pushed too far and felt her only recourse was to murder the man who had rejected her. I shivered.

Harry slid his arm around me and pulled me close, probably thinking my chill was from the cold. The castle never felt truly warm. I tried to tell myself that Dooney’s death wasn’t my business, but with my friends being considered potential suspects, it was a hard sell to my overactive conscience.

“Do you think we’ll be able to leave tomorrow?” I asked. The wedding would have been tomorrow.

“I don’t know,” Harry said. “Alistair is working his local contacts to see if he can spring us, so we’ll have to hope for the best.”