I snuck into the corridor, wondering what to do next.

And walked right into Mr. Travis.

“Miss Willoughby.”

He looked so weary and sad, I instantly felt sorry for him. In the space of one letter he’d turned from sinister to tragic. I felt horrid for stealing something so precious from him. I opened my reticule and pulled out the letter.

“I believe this is yours,” I said quietly.

He snatched it away instantly. “Where did you find this?”

“Was it from Rowena?”

He stilled in the act of putting it in the inside pocket of his formal coat. “What?”

“It’s all right. I won’t tell anyone,” I assured him, even as I watched for his reaction. He didn’t look guilty, just slightly bewildered.

“How did you know?” He grabbed my hand as if I’d made to walk away when I hadn’t actually moved. The music from the ballroom poured into the hall. “Can you really see her? I knew you could. Is she here now?” His eyes were a little wild.

“I’m sorry,” I said. “She’s not here. I can’t call her up at will. She’s very stubborn.”

He smiled his rare smile. “She was exceedingly stubborn. How else would an earl’s daughter make provisions to marry a tailor’s son with no bloodlines to speak of?”

“She loved you.”

“She didn’t drown,” he said grimly.

“I know,” I replied, equally grimly.

“But I have no proof. Even a year later.”

Before I could ask him any questions, a footman stopped in front of me, holding a silver tray. “Miss Willoughby?”

“Yes.”

He bowed. “A message for you, miss.” He lifted the tray to offer me a folded note with my name scrawled across the front. I took it, tendrils of curiosity and dread unfurling like a poisonous plant inside my belly. I skimmed it briefly, then frowned. “That’s odd.”

“What is it?”

“It’s from Caroline,” I said. “She’s waiting for me by the hedges out front.”

I rushed down the hall and pushed out of the front doors and past the flickering torches on the lawn on either side of the white gravel drive. I ran to the hedges where Caroline waited, Mr. Travis on my heels. Caroline’s hair was frizzing out of its strict bun and her eyes were wide with worry.

“What’s wrong?” I asked her.

“Please.” I could tell she was trying not to cry. “You have to come. It’s Tabitha.”

CHAPTER 23

She’s been weeping all day and won’t speak to anyone. But she finally asked for you and couldn’t be convinced to leave it until morning.” She looked determined and ready to haul me bodily away, even though her lips trembled. “It was today, you know.”

“What was today?”

“Rowena!” she burst out. “She drowned last year on this day, didn’t you know?”

A shiver went through me. “I didn’t know that.” I looked at Mr. Travis. He nodded.

“You must come with me!” Caroline insisted.

I paused, focusing on my third eye, lifting the lid slowly. Rowena hovered anxiously behind Caroline, throat bruised, expression pleading. She wanted me to follow.

I could think of a hundred things I’d rather do than follow a possible murderess and the ghost of her victim.

Rowena, however, was insistent.

“I don’t know what you think I can do,” I said as we hurried across the lawns.

“I don’t know either, but if she wants you there, I mean to bring you to her.”

“Miss Willoughby, wait!” Mr. Travis chased after us. “You can’t go to Whitestone. It isn’t safe.”

“I don’t have a choice.”

We raced over the dark hills until my lungs burned. The pond was still but the white lilies on its banks seemed etched in silver. We didn’t speak again until we reached the manor house, and then it was only Caroline panting, “This way.” The house was full of shadows, lit only with the odd oil lamp in the wide hallways.

“What does her uncle have to say?” I whispered, following Caroline up the stairs.

“He’s been drinking all day.”

Up the dark stairs, Tabitha’s door was painted with pink roses.

And it was locked.

Caroline frowned, trying the handle again. “Dearest, you must open the door.”

Tabitha didn’t reply but we could hear muffled sobs.

“Tabitha, please,” Caroline begged, clearly concerned. A cold draft skirted around our ankles but I couldn’t see Rowena anywhere. I wasn’t certain what to think of that. Clearly, as distraught as Tabitha might be, there was a greater danger Rowena was protecting her from, or she’d have been hovering by her twin.

Caroline tried the door again, to no avail. I wondered if it was meant to keep her out specifically. I put a little space between us.

“Why has she locked you out?” I asked.

Caroline was shoving her shoulder against the door.“I told you,” she panted, pushing harder. “She’s upset.”

“Is she afraid of you?”

Caroline paused. “What? Whyever for?”

“You tell me.”

She was looking at me as if I were mad. “Miss Willoughby, what exactly are you implying?”

I ignored her, speaking through the wooden door. “Tabitha, it’s Violet.” I knocked softly. No response. “Are you hurt?”