“Very, miss. Lady Anna has always been difficult, as I hear, but, but the Earl and Countess and Mr. Yoxall, well, nobody wants to see ill come to them. Or Miss Singh, either. She’s getting on very well with Mr. Keynes,” Travers added, superbly casual.

“So well that they’re getting married,” Fen said, trumping that with a hint of smugness.

“I wish them very happy, I’m sure. A nice gentleman, by all accounts and his man is a decent fellow. Good man, good master, that’s what I say.”

“What about Mr. Haworth’s man?”

“Doesn’t have one. Lost everything in the crash. That’s why they’re hanging on the Earl’s sleeve, not but what he’s felt the pinch too.”

Fen nodded. “So, what about yesterday? Did anyone see anything in the East Wing?”

“Now, why would you ask that? What are you up to, Miss Fen?”

“Asking questions.”

The maid pursed her lips. “Curiosity killed the cat.”

“Somebody killed Mr. Haworth, and I’d like to know who. Otherwise the police will ask a lot of impertinent questions, and it will be awful because, you know, one might well have done all sorts of things that one wouldn’t want to discuss with the world.” Travers raised a meaningful brow but didn’t comment. “And it might not even be clear who did it, and what then? What if whoever did it gets away with it and the rest of us are suspected forever?”

“I doubt anyone will think it was you, Miss Fen,” Travers said. “As for what anyone saw, I couldn’t say. All the gentry were moving round and about yesterday, cluttering up the place as usual.”

“Could you find out?” Fen asked. “Who went to the East Wing, and when? Really, Travers, it’s important. I want to know where I stand.”

“Stand indeed. Lounging in bed till all hours, more like.” Travers rose on that snub. “I dare say there’ll be plenty of people ready to gossip instead of doing their duty.”

Fen beamed at her. “Thank you. The movements of staff and the gentry, please, between—what time would you say, Pat?”

“We saw Haworth going into the East Wing at half past eleven. The dagger was missed at two o’clock, but the family and guests were at lunch from one, and of course Haworth wasn’t there. I think it must have happened between half past eleven and one o’clock.”

Travers nodded briskly. “I see, miss. I suppose I ought to look for cuffs, too.”

“Sorry?”

“Shirt cuffs. I understand Mr. Haworth was stabbed, and I dare say that would be a messy business.”

Pat’s mouth opened. She cast a look at Fen, who beamed smugly back. “I rely on Travers, Pat, you’ve no idea. Yes, of course shirt cuffs. What a good thought.”