Valor slowly emerged from under the table. “Is that what it was, Papa? A tableau?”
The duke sipped his wine and said, “More or less, Val.”
“I was never so amused,” the dowager said. “Is Lady Marchfield coming back?”
“Not if the fates smile upon me, Duchess.”
In a low tone, Lord Manderbey said, “That was not a performance, was it?”
“No,” Winsome said.
“I never knew Lady Marchfield to be so…I do not actually know what that was.”
Winsome shifted in her seat, searching for just the right sort of vagary that might explain what he’d just witnessed. “There were perhaps some circumstances over the past several seasons that have pushed my aunt too far,” Winsome said, hoping Lord Manderbey would not ask what they were.
“Do you suppose that fellow has really left? I could not tell if he meant to leave or to hide behind another pair of curtains,” the lord said.
“I do not know,” Winsome said. Had he left? Where had he beenhiding? The house had been searched top to bottom. He could not have been behind curtains all this time. How would they know if he left or was hiding again?
It was very uncomfortable to imagine that specter of a man lurking in the house somewhere.
“Lady Winsome,” Lord Manderbey said, “I was wondering, have you readGloaming at Glenford Cross? I understand it is very popular.”
Winsome turned to him in surprise. Of course she had read it. The book was all the rage at this moment. “Haveyouread it?”
“Indeed, yes.”
That was a surprise. Had he read it because she’d mentioned her interest in gothic stories? She did not know, but she did understand he’d brought it up to move beyond what they’d all just witnessed and she was grateful for it.
“I did have some questions and would be interested to hear your thoughts,” he said.
“I imagine you found the vicar’s daughter not very clever,” Winsome said. “Really, why the girl did not shout out the window during the day was confounding.”
“I will admit that I did wonder about her,” Lord Manderbey said.
“They often are like that, ignoring warning signs from all directions and missing vital opportunities.” As she said it, she wondered if that was what she was doing. Was she just ignoring warning signs? “I did think the castle collapsing at the end of it was a nice touch, though.”
“Yes, but was the mysterious man in it when it collapsed? That was not made clear.”
“Oh I imagine he must have been.”
They went on speaking together, engrossed in one another and ignoring the rest of the table. Winsome occasionally heard the duke and the dowager laughing over some matter, or Valor attempting to get her attention which she positively ignored, or the gentle hum ofhusbands and wives talking.
The beginning of the dinner had been hair-raising, but the rest of it was going rather well. She put aside the strange Mr. Wicket, as certainly he had left the house.
Hopefully.
*
Mrs. Right wasdoing her level best to keep Cook calm and stop the kitchen maids from shrieking.
It had started when Charlie abandoned the dining room and had come flying down the stairs. “Is he here? Did you see him?”
“See who?” Cook had asked, his eyes drifting round the kitchens.
“Seeme,” a voice had said behind her.
Mrs. Right had jumped and leapt away from the voice. She turned and found a cadaver of a man in a black suit staring sternly at her.
