“Mother!”

“Now, Elizabeth Anne.”

She shot me an apologetic glance before letting herself be dragged away. I drank the rest of my tea to give myself something to do while I willed everyone to stop sneaking glances my way. I felt like an animal in one of the cages at the zoological gardens, being gawked at. They wanted me to talk about the dead, wanted me to weep at being snubbed, wanted me to provide as much scandal as my mother had accidentally afforded them.

I just wanted to hide in my room with a book.

But I couldn’t do that until I’d solve Rowena’s bloody problem.

Mr. Travis stood by the buffet table, holding a raspberry tart. His eyes were shadowed again, his thin shoulders stooped.

I might not be an earl’s legitimate daughter, I might not have had tutors and governesses and riding lessons, but I had talents of my own that had nothing to do with spirit visions.

And it was time I put them to good use.

I meandered slowly toward the buffet table. I took a plate and piled it with thin slices of ham, cucumber salad, and sugar-dusted blackberries that I had no intention of eating. I stopped next to Mr. Travis, who turned toward me. I leaned to get a honey-glazed pastry, deliberately out of my reach.

A little more humiliation wouldn’t kill me.

I was already accounted a clumsy girl with no breeding; no one would think twice.

I had to remind myself of that before I tipped the plate of food onto Mr. Travis. Blackberries bounced off his arm. A slice of ham landed on his shoe. There were gasps and titters. Elizabeth’s eyes were so round I had to look away in case I giggled.

“Oh, I’m so sorry!” I exclaimed. The red in my cheeks was perfectly authentic. I grabbed for a napkin and patted his coat. The cream filling in the pastry smeared over his lapel. I fluttered and worried at him.

He never noticed when I slipped my hands into his coat pockets while I was making the stains worse with my napkin. The first pocket was empty, the second had a folded letter tucked inside. The wax seal gave under my nail.

I stole it.

Just in case. It might be nothing, a bill or a list of supplies for his mother. There was only one way to find out.

I tucked the letter under the flounces of my dress and hurried out of the parlor, still apologizing and blushing while a maidservant took Mr. Travis’s coat for cleaning. He wouldn’t find out the pocket was empty for a while yet. And if the letter wasn’t important, I could leave it in the drawing room and he’d just think it had fallen out in the commotion.

I would have taken the stairs two at a time if my gown allowed it. Inside my room, I shut the door tightly and climbed onto the bed to unfold the letter. The handwriting was delicate, feminine, and the parchment smelled faintly of lily of the valley.

I tried to read it but was distracted by the boot sticking out from under my bed. It was black and scuffed—and I wasn’t entirely sure if it was ghostly or human.

I only knew I wasn’t alone.

And that anyone hiding under my bed wouldn’t have honorable intentions.

I couldn’t remember if I’d seen Peter taking tea with the others.

Edging off the bed slowly, I reached for the iron poker by the fireplace. I held it up against my shoulder like a carpet beater, as if I were about to whack dust from a parlor rug. I crept closer. The foot didn’t move.

“That’s it,” I muttered, swinging the poker down next to the foot. “Get the hell out of my room!” I added a vicious poke.

“Bollocks!” a voice roared from under the feather mattress.

A familiar voice.

Colin scrambled out, smudged with dust and scowling. “What the bleedin’ hell are you—oh, Violet. It’s you.”

“Of course it’s me! Who else would it be? What are you doing here?”

“I thought you were one of the maids.”

“I meant here in Wiltshire,” I said, dropping the poker. My heart dropped back to its regular rhythm. “Scaring me half to death.”

He smiled sheepishly. “Sorry.” He touched my cheek briefly. “Didn’t you miss me a little, love?”

“Maybe.” I narrowed my eyes at him. “Did you miss me?”

“That’s why I’m here, in’it?”

I admit it. I melted. This new Colin was entirely too charming for his own good. His thumb trailed under my ear and along the back of my neck. Even my knees shivered.

“And I was worried about you.”

“Why?”

“Because you’re chasing a murderer,” he returned drily. “I know you don’t need to be molly-coddled but I can’t help worrying about you. You get into trouble the way debutantes get into ball gowns.”

“I do not. Speaking of trouble, where on earth are you sleeping?”

“I’ll find a spot in the stables. No one’ll know.”

“But …” I frowned. It wasn’t right. He should have a better bed than a hayloft. Especially since I was eating chocolates and sleeping under brocade bed curtains.

“Don’t worry about me.” He waved off my concern. “I like horses better than the fancy anyway. Are you all right?”

“I’m fine,” I assured him, smiling. It was so good to see him. It had been only two days. I shouldn’t be missing him yet. “The ladies are snubbing me. Lord Jasper’s a little naive, isn’t he?” I asked. “He thinks he can make everyone accept me. He has no idea what those women would do to me. On a more positive note, I threw a pastry at Mr. Travis today.”