“Miss Neven? I have a guest room prepared just for you,” Mrs. Stirling said to me after four rounds of Seven Wraiths, rounds I had encouraged so I could hold each of the doomed cards. To my own demise and Deacon’s victory. “Mr. Vesper asked that I do so, in case you wanted to spend the night here.”

I stood in the foyer. It was late—half past ten—and Phelan still had yet to return. I hoped he would stay away longer still.

“I’m not sure, Mrs. Stirling,” I said. “I wouldn’t want to intrude.”

“Oh, my dear! You would not intrude. Mr. Vesper and I both worry about you walking home at night.”

I hesitated, but eventually nodded. “I am rather weary.”

“Come, let me take you to your room,” she invited me, and began to ascend the stairwell. “Take care, though. These stairs tend to be slick on odd-numbered days.”

The steps were a bit slippery, I noticed with amusement as I followed her to the second floor. The air smelled like roasting wood and evergreen, like meadow grass and the dust of old books.

“I’ve always loved this room,” Mrs. Stirling said with a pleasant sigh as she opened a door, lighting a few candles. “It has a wonderful view of the back garden, and on clear days you can see the sunset.”

I followed her into the bedchamber. The room was square, its wallpaper printed with climbing ivy. The bed was a good size, swathed in a canopy, and there was an armoire, a writing desk, and two windows trimmed with dark green velvet drapes.

And an oval mirror, hanging on the wall above the washbasin.

I stopped before I could pass by it, and Mrs. Stirling finished lighting the candles, reflexively spreading a stray wrinkle from the duvet cover.

“There’s also some new clothes in the armoire, if you would like to change, Miss Neven,” she said.

“Where do you and Deacon sleep?” I asked.

“Oh, we don’t live here. I live four doors down and will be here before first light to get the fires started and breakfast cooked.”

I hadn’t realized that I would live with Phelan alone. I had assumed Mrs. Stirling and Deacon lodged here. This was certainly a detail to keep from my father, and I hoped he would understand that my plan had finally taken root, and not worry when I failed to show up tonight. Tomorrow was Monday, anyway. I would have the evening off to go to my mother’s and explain the new arrangement to them.

“And you’re certain Mr. Vesper won’t mind me staying here . . . with him?” I inquired.

Mrs. Stirling smiled. “Not at all. Unless you feel uncomfortable with the arrangement, Miss Neven. And if that is so, I will sleep here tonight on the main floor.”

“No, that won’t be necessary,” I rushed to say.