She wanted the maid to leave so she could look through the house while she had the chance. “No, but I’m sure Miss Turner would enjoy that bath. Tell her I said she should rest afterward. Also, while I will dine with the servants, Miss Turner will take her meal in her chamber.”

Sarah left. Minerva was just about to check that the landing was clear when a knock sounded on her door. She opened it, expecting Elise.

Instead a footman stood there. “For you, Mrs. Rupert.” He offered her a folded paper.

Minerva opened it. There is a back stairs behind the doors at the end of each landing. Take it to the top. I’ll meet you there. CR.

“Do you want to send a reply?” he asked.

“No.”

Minerva waited until the footman was well gone. Then she slipped out to find the back stairs.

* * *

From the parapet walk one could see for miles, even beyond the low hills that flanked the estate’s land on the north. Dark clouds gathered there. They appeared to be moving east, not south, and Chase doubted storms would ruin this fair day.

He kept one eye on the door that gave way to the interior of the house, wondering if Minerva would come up here. He assumed so. She would want to see the spot where Uncle Frederick had gone over. It was the only reason she had left London.

She had not liked hearing Nicholas was in residence. She had probably planned to ask the housekeeper for a tour. He imagined the housekeeper showing two young women the public rooms, and not much noticing when one of them loitered to admire the appointments. He pictured Minerva rejoining the tour twenty minutes later, apologetic about getting lost or distracted. That would give her enough time to find the stairs to the roof, run up them, examine the parapet, and run down.

She was resourceful, he had to give her that. Clever. He wondered what the valet had told her while she visited and chatted about old times in his master’s home. If Edkins had mentioned that woman in the garden, she would be on her guard. After all, she could have been the woman in question.

Did you kill him? He did not think she had. She was going through too much effort to try and determine if anyone had, and if so who.

He could simply ask her, and assess whether he thought she spoke the truth. He had been tempted to several times after their conversations became familiar. He hadn’t because—he laughed to himself. He hadn’t because if he did, she might speak lies that he was only too willing to believe. That was what wanting a woman does to a man.