“I confess I was curious to see Kingsdowne for myself,” Belinda said, “after Cedric had told me so much about it. But given the circumstances, I couldn’t possibly intrude on the privacy of a family in mourning. I’ll ask Mr. O’Mara if he’d be kind enough to drive me to the station.”

I was surprised at this, and wondered if it was because she didn’t want to get mixed up in a murder investigation.

“Unfortunately, the inspector made it clear that nobody is allowed to leave until he has a statement from each of us,” Edwina said. “And I’m afraid that includes you, as you were in the house when the inspector arrived. Perhaps you should at least stay for the night, since you have taken so much trouble for your friend. I’ll have Elsie make up the room next to Lady Georgiana’s, and perhaps your maid”—she gave me a knowing look—“could look after Miss Warburton-Stoke as well, since she has not brought one of her own.”

“Thank you, Your Grace. Most kind,” Belinda said. “I do have a small traveling bag in the car, if your footman would be kind enough to bring it up to me. I’d like to spruce myself up after that journey in a leaky sports car.”

“I’ll take you up to my room until yours is ready,” I said. “Come on. Follow me.”

We started up the stairs.

“Ye gods, look at those murals,” she said with a grin. “Those nymphs and satyrs are certainly having a good time, aren’t they? Look where that satyr’s hand is! It’s a wonder that virginal visitors to the house don’t swoon.”

“I don’t think they study the mural as carefully as you’re doing,” I said, having not noticed the hand myself until now.

“You’d have thought they might have given poor old Cedric a few more ideas, wouldn’t you?” she muttered as we swung into the long hallway.

I moved into step beside her. “Belinda, did you really know Cedric Altringham?”

She shot me one of her wicked, quizzical smiles. “I could have met him, possibly. I understand he frequented Crockfords. And I am a designer of sorts, and one meets a lot of chaps in the arts world.”

“In other words, you never met him.” I opened the door and let her into my bedroom. “Belinda, you are incorrigible,” I said, laughing. “What are you really doing here?”