“He took the dagger with him. He planned to do it when he left the drawing room.” Pat could picture Jack making his way through the empty hall, moving softly up the stairs. “He came in here, keeping the appointment he pretended Haworth had with someone else. Saw Haworth sitting with his back to the door, building a house of cards with too many aces. Walked up, and—I suppose the man simply wasn’t expecting it.”

“I’m sure he wasn’t. Jack’s no Preston, to lose his temper.”

“But he is a gambler,” Pat said. “He took a chance, and there were a lot of red herrings to fish for. Maybe he thought it would be easy to cast blame on Victoria. Maybe he knows about the family troubles.”

“I’m sure he does. Which makes me reflect that Jimmy and Lord Witton will find it a great deal easier to repair their family situation now Haworth’s dead, so Lady Anna might make a very attractive widow for a man who isn’t a high stickler. Come to that, she’d be the future Countess in her own right if Jimmy swung for the murder, and I’d rather not believe his calculation went that far. My God, old girl, you’ve cracked it.”

“Thank Fen,” Pat said. “It was her idea to look into this while I was sitting around panicking about you. Which— Could we have a quick word? Not in here, though. The, uh, the next room?”

Bill flushed, evidently recalling as vividly as Pat what had transpired in the next room, but didn’t argue, which was welcome because the presence of the corpse was becoming overwhelming. He locked the door again and led the way to the study.

“Don’t bother locking the door,” he said drily as they stepped inside. “It’s broken. As you discovered.”

“Quite. Look, I just wanted a word about—well, personal affairs. Not to pry, but I feel I ought to understand in case I put my foot in it. And also, there’s something else.”

“I can’t imagine what else there could be,” Bill muttered. “As for understanding... The fact is, not everyone is cut out for marriage. Some people, ah, incline to members of their own sex, and—”

“Like Oscar Wilde,” Pat said. “Or Mr. Grisham in the village with his old Navy colleague. I understand that perfectly well.”

Bill gaped. “Who the devil told you about Oscar Wilde?”

“Daddy, of course. I asked him. I was reading the papers to him around that time because his eyesight had failed, and I wanted to know what all the veiled allusions were about. What I meant was—well, for pity’s sake, Bill, Jimmy got engaged to Fen!”