“Poor woman,” Siegfried said, eyeing the body with distaste. “I wonder what she was doing wandering around down here in the middle of the night?”

“Maybe the commotion from Patrascue’s men upset her and she was coming down for a hot drink or a cognac,” Dragomir said. “Or maybe she was sleepwalking. Who knows. It is unfortunate that such a thing should happen.”

There was a certain smoothness to his voice that made me look at him sharply. I knew very well why Miss Deer-Harte had been wandering around. Had she actually spotted the man she was seeking this time, and been foolish enough to follow him? And was it possible that Dragomir was somehow involved? I wanted to get back to my room to tell Darcy what had happened, but perhaps my first duty should be to break the news to Lady Middlesex.

We heard her long before we saw her. “What is this nonsense now? Why am I being dragged out of bed at this godforsaken hour?” Her voice echoed down the hallway. She came out to the top of the steps. “What do I care if some other stupid foreigner has fallen and—” She broke off, her face rigid with horror.

“Deer-Harte?” she gasped. “No. No, it can’t be.” And she pushed her way down to the bottom of the stairs until she was standing over the body. “Oh.” She put her hand up to her mouth and a great gulping sob came out. I went over to her and put a tentative hand on her shoulder. She wasn’t the sort of person one would think of embracing. She continued to stare down at her friend, her body heaving with convulsive sobs. I was as shocked as everyone else. It wasn’t the reaction I had expected of her over someone I thought she considered a rather annoying companion.

“I’m really sorry,” I said. “It’s a horrible thing to have happened.”

She nodded, fighting to compose herself. “Poor silly woman. Always imagining she saw danger and intrigue everywhere we went. She said she was going to keep her eyes and ears open.”

“Yes, she must have been prowling around and fallen. Those stairs always struck me as awfully dangerous.” I didn’t say what I was thinking—that she hadn’t fallen at all. She had been pushed.

“Come, my Lady Middlesex.” Count Dragomir took over. “There is nothing you can do here. Let me escort you back to your room and have some cognac and hot milk sent up to you.”

“It’s all right. I’ll take her,” I said. “I know you have plenty to do down here.”

I had to half drag Lady Middlesex back up those horrible stairs. She staggered up like a person in a trance. But by the time we reached her room she had regained her stiff upper lip.