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“Here, boy, who lives in that house? Do you know?”

The boy nodded. “That’s Mr Cavannah. He is one of the lodgers there. Old Mrs Rampton disappeared not long ago. He collects the rent now.”

“Brian, shut that door, now,” a feminine voice screeched from the back of the house.

Jeb nodded and handed the child a coin before he headed toward the safe house.

Mr Cavannah, if that was his real name, could wait for an hour or two. If he was collecting rents from tenants at a property, he wasn’t going to leave it anytime yet. Either Mr Cavannah, or one of his associates, would appear at the property at some point. When they did, the Star Elite would be there.

Sophia followed her aunt into Mavis Arbuthnot’s house with great reluctance. It was the last place she wanted to be, not least because it just felt plain wrong that people were socialising so soon after Morwenna Banks’ murder.

Not even a week had passed since her body had been found strangled, yet here they were all gathering together to dine as though nothing untoward had happened. It didn’t feel as though a reasonable period of mourning had passed, but Delilah had accepted the invitation to dine on their behalf without even consulting her.

While it had irked her greatly at the time, Sophia was in desperate need of something to do. If only to take her mind off why Jeb hadn’t come to see her again like he had promised. Unfortunately, there were few people she could ask to find out where he was without raising their concerns over her interest in him so she was left to fret, worry, and wonder what had happened.

It wasn’t lost on her that others in the village had also become aware that he had vanished. Speculation was already mounting about why the Lord’s son had upped and left as quickly as he had arrived. She hoped that by coming tonight, she may be able to find out from Algernon where Jeb had gone and, mor

e importantly, when he would be back.

“Mrs Arbuthnot, thank you for inviting me,” she murmured politely.

“I am glad you could make it,” Mrs Arbuthnot gushed. “Please, come on in. Everybody is here already.”

Mrs Arbuthnot scurried ahead into the brightly lit sitting room full of people who all looked distinctly uncomfortable. The polite yet somewhat awkward atmosphere was the first thing that hit her; that, and the lack of Mrs Banks, Jeb, and Algernon.

Battling disappointment, she tried to focus her attention on the evening. Without Jeb, the room seemed dull and flat, as though the life had been drained from it, and that brought Sophia a profound sense of loss.

She missed him and found that the longer she sat there, the more she yearned for him. If only she could speak to him. If she could reassure herself that he was alright then she could send him on his way again, more at peace with the knowledge that he had other things to do and wasn’t as interested in her as she thought he was. The fact that he didn’t reciprocate the feelings that were rapidly building within her was something that was personal to her. The hurt she would shed tears over later when she was alone. It was certainly something she couldn’t do anything about sitting in Mrs Arbuthnot’s sitting room.

Forcing her attention off Jeb and back to the occupants of the room, Sophia accepted a goblet of Ratafia off the hostess. To her horror, she then found herself completely stuck for wont of anything to say which was either appropriate or wise. She sensed that Mrs Arbuthnot was too because, after several moments of futile fluttering about, she turned an overly bright look on the group and waved her hand in a vague motion toward the other side of the house.

“I am sorry for the short notice about tonight’s dinner,” Mrs Arbuthnot gushed. “I just think it would be best if we carried on as normal, do you not agree? It is so difficult to know what to do in situations like this.”

“It might have been better if we had postponed everything for a while longer,” the Squire blustered, red-faced. “It has only been a week since poor Morwenna left us.”

“But you haven’t altered the date of your ball yet, have you?” Delilah challenged. “I suppose that is going ahead as planned?”

Her slight remonstration was met with a glare from the Squire, who didn’t deign to reply.

“I know Mrs Banks was a highly respected member of the group,” the hostess began.

The Squire coughed uncomfortably. “Well, I wouldn’t go that far,” he protested.

When people looked at him, he realised he needed to clarify his comment so he didn’t offend anyone. “Mrs Banks was nice, but could be quite cutting sometimes. While I don’t want to speak ill of the dead, it would be foolish to put the woman on a pedestal. She had her faults, as we all have.”

“Quite,” Mrs Arbuthnot replied. “Well, I thought a nice, discrete dinner might be in order. Not least because I thought people might welcome the distraction given the disturbing events that have occurred in the village just lately.”

She glanced around each guest in turn, silently seeking their approval for her decision.

“And, well, it really is my turn. What, with the Squire’s ball being soon I thought, what better time for it than today? There is nothing we can do to bring Morwenna back, after all. So, while everyone is here, I should like to raise a toast to our good friend Morwenna Banks, and of course, Tabitha. May the magistrate capture the man responsible soon so that we may all sleep peacefully in our beds at night.”

“Here, here,” the Squire declared and lifted his glass.

The silence thickened as each person took a sip out of their goblets.

“Shall we dine then?” Mrs Arbuthnot murmured.

She led the way into the dining room and rang a small bell to summon the first course. Thankfully, for the time being at least, normality resumed while everybody ate.

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