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with Gwyneth earlier in the year. He spared nothing, she knew, listening as he told of Susanna’s past, her dealings with the man he’d killed, and her coldhearted decision to marry someone else.

He told of his heartbreak, and then his meeting with Giles, which happily brought him to Wolfbridge.

And he repeated what some already knew…that she had come briefly back into his life not so long ago.

“So she divorced,” murmured Royce. “The ex-husband should be someone we look into.”

“Orloff. Basil Orloff. Banker, I think someone said?”

Harry nodded. “You’re right, Jeremy. I’ve heard that name. I believe he has some pretty substantial holdings. So he’s not lacking in funds…”

Gwyneth nodded. “Yes, that might be a good place to start. And her sister.” She looked at Jeremy. “Did you ever hear her name?”

He shook his head. “Not that I recall, and we did find out she had moved away after Susanna left.”

“We should set some particular enquiries in motion.” Royce leaned back and crossed his legs. “Since Susanna is gone, we still have a solid reason for asking questions, even though some time has passed since her death. Nobody needs to know that, of course.”

“A good plan, I think.” Evan walked to the fire and leaned on the mantel, looking at his friend. “Is this of help, Jeremy? Are you agreeable?”

Jeremy turned to look at him, and at everyone else in the room. He nodded. “Yes, yes it has to be done. I agree with Harry when he says that whoever is behind this is mad. And I’d rather not have anyone else hurt, or—God forbid—killed because of me.” He squared his shoulders. “Let me know what I can do. Let’s stop this madness before it goes any further.”

*~~*~~*

The next day, plans were set in motion.

Royce spoke to several of the tenants who had friends or family intimate with the congregation of St. Polycarp’s. Susanna had been in attendance last summer and revealed she was staying with her sister.

It might not be very helpful, but as Evan pointed out, they had to start somewhere. He was going to take the gig to Little Maddington for some supplies, and declared that if the roads were passable and the weather held, he’d go on to Ditchley. He knew plenty of villagers, and would try asking them for any information they might have on Susanna’s sister, in case she’d ever shopped at either place. Gabriel had decided to go with him, since he had a way with people and would be able to charm pretty much anyone they came across.

In the meantime, Royce announced he’d write to Giles about the Orloff connection, in the hope that there might be something useful from that end of their investigations.

Jeremy and Harry elected to go over to the new school, which would allow them to work on some of the building tasks as well as quietly ask around about Susanna and her sister. If she’d been in the area before her death, one of the tenants might know about it, or at least have heard something.

All good, sensible ideas, and Gwyneth agreed with them.

But since there wasn’t room in the gig for her, and she didn’t particularly fancy a visit to the new school, she was left to her own devices, with only Royce for company. He was in his study, working on his letters and other business matters.

She wandered into the parlour and put another log on the fire, stoking up the embers with a poker and warming her hands at the ensuing blaze.

It was so quiet, she realised.

Not that the others made much noise, but it was rare that Wolfbridge was this empty. Normally, she would have been out with her gentlemen, or have at least one by her side.

However, these were strange times, she mused, taking her favourite chair and tucking a warm blanket around her knees. The logs had caught, and the fire blazed, but she was still chilled. More from the thought of what Jeremy’s letter might portend than from any draughts in the room.

Her gaze drifted to the table and reminded her of the Fivetrees matter. It had been pushed aside by yesterday’s events.

But first she had to review the script for their Christmas play, so now was as good a time as any to get started on it.

She was about to pick up the papers, when a sound outside distracted her and she stood, frowning, going to the window.

It was a carriage, mud-splattered and unmarked. And it was pulling up the driveway to Wolfbridge.

She sighed, wishing Jeremy were here to open the door, and then walked into the hall, calling out Royce’s name as she did so and hoping he heard her.

The knocker rattled loudly.

Taking a breath, she pulled the heavy door open and found herself confronted by two men, one quite tall and heavy-set, obviously a servant, the other shorter, rounder and dressed in expensive winter garb.

“Good day,” she offered, waiting.

“Good day.” The portly man bowed. “May I take it I am addressing the Lady of Wolfbridge?”

Gwyneth kept her face as calm as possible. “Yes. I am the Lady of Wolfbridge. We are not expecting company…may I inquire as to your name and business here?”

“Of course. Forgive me.” He reached into an inner pocket of his coat. “My card, my Lady.”

She took the small piece of cardboard and looked at the elegant script announcing that the bearer was none other than Sir Alfred Gylbart. Reading the name sent a chill rippling over her that had nothing to do with the winter air.

“Ah,” she managed. “And what is the purpose of your visit here, Sir?”

He beamed at her. “Just a neighbourly call, dear lady. I thought it proper to notify you that the current owners of Fivetrees have granted me permission to visit. I’m working

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