“Charlotte is ready to go home and can’t find her anywhere.”

“Perhaps she went to the retiring room?” Iris suggested.

Lady Winstead looked dubious. “She’s been gone quite a long time for that.”

“Er, Mother,” Honoria said, thinking of Daniel back in the corridor, “if I might have a word with you.”

“It will have to wait,” Lady Winstead said, shaking her head. “I’m beginning to grow worried about Miss Wynter.”

“Perhaps she needed a lie down as well,” Honoria suggested.

“I suppose. I do hope Charlotte thinks to give her an extra day off this week.” Lady Winstead gave a little nod, as if agreeing with herself. “I believe I will go find her right now and make that suggestion. It is the least we can do. Miss Wynter truly saved the day.”

Honoria and Iris watched her leave, then Iris said, “I suppose it depends upon your definition of the word ‘saved.’ ”

Honoria let out a little giggle and looped her arm through her cousin’s. “Come with me,” she said. “We shall take a turn about the room and look happy and proud while we’re doing it.”

“Happy and proud is beyond my capabilities, but—”

Iris was interrupted by a resounding crash. Or not exactly a crash. More like a splintering sound. With a few pops. And twangs.

“What was that?” Iris asked.

“I don’t know.” Honoria craned her neck. “It sounded like—”

“Oh, Honoria!” they heard Daisy shriek. “Your violin!”

“What?” Honoria walked slowly toward the commotion, not quite able to put two and two together.

“Oh, my heavens,” Iris said abruptly, her hand coming to her mouth. She lay a restraining hand on Honoria, as if to say—It’s better if you don’t look.

“What is going on? I—” Honoria’s jaw went slack.

“Lady Honoria!” Lady Danbury barked. “So sorry about your violin.”

Honoria only blinked, staring down at the mangled remains of her instrument. “What? How . . . ?”

Lady Danbury shook her head with what Honoria suspected was exaggerated regret. “I have no idea. The cane, you know. I must have knocked it off the table.”

Honoria felt her mouth opening and closing, but no sound was emerging. Her violin didn’t look as if it had been knocked off a table. Honestly, Honoria was at a loss as to how it could have got into such a state. It was absolutely wrecked. Every string had snapped, pieces of wood were completely detached, and the chin rest was nowhere to be seen.

Clearly, it had been trampled by an elephant.

“I insist upon buying you a new one,” Lady Danbury announced.

“Oh. No,” Honoria said, with a strange lack of inflection. “It’s not necessary.”

“And furthermore,” Lady Danbury said, ignoring her completely, “it will be a Ruggieri.”

Daisy gasped.

“No, really,” Honoria said. She couldn’t take her eyes off the violin. There was something about it that was absolutely riveting.