She didn’t smile back but said curtly, “Is Blackie here?”

“Well, yes, he is. Do you wish to speak to him?”

“I do.”

Blackie, hearing Sarah’s voice and detecting a harsh tone, was already crossing the floor. In a split second, he was standing next to his uncle.

“Hello, Sarah, why are ye here? Do ye have something to tell me?”

“No, ask you. What happened when you saw Angela on Saturday?” She sounded angry.

“Nothing because I never saw her.”

Patrick interjected, “You’d better come into the house, Sarah. I don’t want a commotion on my front doorstep.”

He opened the door wider, and Sarah walked up the steps. He noticed that the young woman was extremely pale. Chalk white, in fact. Something was wrong.

Pulling out a chair, he said, “Please sit down and make yourself comfortable.”

She did so. Patrick indicated to Blackie that he should sit opposite her, and then he himself took a seat.

“Now what is this all about?” Blackie asked, looking nonplussed, slightly troubled.

“You tell me!” she snapped. “What happened on Saturday morning?”

“Nothing. I arrived at her house, at noon. She didn’t answer the door. I went ter the back. It was locked also. The neighbor saw me and said she thought Angela had gone shopping. I gave her my name and left.”

“She wasn’t there, you say. But I know she was,” Sarah protested.

“No, no!” Blackie shot back. “I asked the neighbor where I could get a sandwich. She told me ter go to Hettys Café near the Stray. I did. It began to drizzle. I ran. On my way, I bumped into my cousin Siobhan. We went ter Hettys Café and then ter Bolton Manor, where Siobhan works as a lady’s maid.”

“And after that?” Sarah demanded.

“I walked around the garden with Lord Lassiter. He said I could stay, sure and I did. There’re plenty of male servants’ rooms. But why are ye questioning me like this?”

She was silent, glared at him, her animosity apparent.

Patrick exclaimed, “You’ve come here in an angry mood, flinging questions at Blackie, and it makes no sense! Are you accusing my nephew of something? Something bad?”

Sarah shook her head, and said, “I had to be sure Angela wasn’t lying about something that happened to her, to protect him, because she cares about him. Now I believe she was telling me the truth.”

Unexpectedly, Sarah burst into a flood of tears, searching her coat pocket for a handkerchief.

The two men exchanged glances, and Patrick said in a soothing, rather sympathetic voice, “What is wrong, Sarah dear? How can we help you?”

Eventually taking control of herself, she replied, “There’s nothing you can do right now. But thanks for asking.”

“Tell me, what is this about? Ye owe me that!” Blackie exclaimed, his black eyes intent on her.