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Caroline nodded and then began a rather involved narrative about the green oval sign outside the office of Forsters, Carlton, and Roxby.

“You mean…you saw their offices that day we went to the coffee house?” Gervaise interrupted her.

“Yes, though at the time I had forgotten the name I saw stamped on that envelope. I only knew it stirred some faint memory I could not place.”

“So that was why you later stated the letter was a solicitor’s letter and then could not account for saying so.”

“Yes, precisely,” Caroline agreed. “It was not until the day before The Citadel opened that I remembered, and then everyone was so caught up in the grand opening that I could not investigate until this morning.” She took a deep breath and plunged into an account of the true ownership of Benham Hall.

“Hold hard, so your father was the one with money, not Edgar’s?” Gervaise asked, frowning.

“Yes, so it turns out. He owned factories, it seems. A fair few of them before he sold them and invested his money wisely. It seems my father had not yet taken possession of his country house when he died. Mama went to some spa town to take the waters and it was there she met Mr. Needham. They were quickly married and took up residence at Benham Hall where Mama pretended to all and sundry that the property was his, and not her late husband’s at all.”

“When in fact, it had been left in trust for you?” Gervaise said slowly.

“Yes. Poor Edgar has been fed lies his entire life. He is not entitled to the house or the money at all. Mama has filled his head with entirely false expectations.”

“Dear me, what will Diana say,” Gervaise said dryly. “She expects to take her rightful place as mistress of Benham,” he reminded her.

“Yes,” Caroline agreed, biting her lip.

“So then, my wife is wealthy,” he said matter-of-factly.

“Yes. I hope in some small way that can make up for…for what I am about to tell you.” She faltered.

“I don’t see how it can fail to,” he said frankly. “I always intended to marry a rich woman and now, against all odds, it turns out I have.”

“Yes, but…” Her voice wavered. “Gervaise, I am terribly sorry, but it turns out my late mama was a murderess.”

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For a moment he did not speak, and Caroline scanned his face anxiously. Then he simply said, “Your late mama?”

Caroline nodded. “I’m afraid I was forced to push her into oncoming traffic this morning and she was trampled to death. At least, I’m pretty sure she is dead. I did not actually stop to ascertain the fact. Reg thought we should not tarry.”

Gervaise regarded her steadily for a moment, then said, “Let us return first to the solicitor’s office. You finished your session with Mr.—?”

“Roxby. But before we finished, I requested he draw me up a last will and testament.”

“You did?” He eyed her curiously. “Why?”

“Well…I had just found out I had a considerable estate,” she reminded him desperately. “Does that not sound like the sensible thing to do?”

“It does, and yet…I want to know what was going through your mind.”

She closed her eyes briefly. “It will sound like nonsense, I’m afraid.”

“I don’t expect it will.”

“I…I kept thinking of that white hand. That hand that hovered over my plate and snatched the letter away. Mama’s hand. After that peculiar dream I had, whenever I remembered it, it filled me with such fear… Such terrible, inexplicable fear. I thought, how many other times must that hand have snatched away letters meant for me?

“Mr. Roxby said they have been writing to me ever since I turned twenty-five. And I just knew I had to make a will, to keep my property safe from her. Does that make sense?” He nodded but did not ask who she had made her beneficiary. “I left everything to you,” she volunteered, hoping it might soften the blow when it fell.

“And then you left?” he asked.

“I did,” she breathed out. “Reg was waiting for me outside but had wandered down the road as I had taken far longer than we had expected.”

“I see.”