Daisy clutched Julia’s hand, holding on to it for the remainder of the time they knelt at the grave.

Julia was touched. “Would you like to go back to the house for some tea?”

Daisy shook her head.

“Shall we stay awhile longer, then? We can find some flowers for your mama. I saw roses by the arbor.”

Again, Daisy shook her head. She tugged Julia close to whisper in her ear. “I have a secret.”

Julia widened her eyes. “Do you? How thrilling.”

“I can show you,” Daisy offered, scrambling to her feet.

“If you like.” Julia stood, permitting the little girl to draw her away, back through the garden and down the drive that curved around in front of the crumbling stone stable block.

She wasn’t wholly convinced this wouldn’t be another unpleasant variety of surprise. Something akin to the invitation to visit Dolly’s grave. But she was resolved to be cheerful about it—even when Daisy pulled her into the darkened barn.

If any place at Goldfinch Hall was haunted, surely it was this one. There was a strange coolness to the air, and a scent of lingering decay even more pronounced than in the rotting east wing of the Hall.

Sunlight streamed through holes in the roof, revealing a floor strewn with antiquated straw. Several empty loose boxes were situated under the portion of the ceiling that was still intact. There was no sign of Musket. He must be out in the pasture somewhere.

“It’s back here.” Daisy quickened her pace. “In the hayloft.”

Julia reluctantly followed her. As they stepped up to the rickety wooden ladder, a soft mewling emanated from the loft above.

Julia’s fear of ghosts evaporated. “Oh my goodness,” she whispered. “Kittens!”

Twenty-Seven

Jasper entered the abandoned stables to find his wife standing atop what was surely the most antiquated ladder in Christendom. Daisy remained safely on the ground, clutching the ladder’s teetering legs.

“There’s six of them altogether,” Julia called down. “Three striped ones, two black ones, and one with orange patches on her fur.”

“That one’s going to be mine!” Daisy called back, shaking the ladder in her enthusiasm. The ancient wood gave out an ominous groan.

Julia’s foot slipped from the rung. “Oh!”

Jasper was at her side an instant before she fell. He caught her neatly in his arms.

She clung to his neck, gazing up at him in amazement. “Jasper! Thank heaven. For a moment I feared I was about to do myself an injury.”

Jasper glowered at her, his heart threatening to beat straight out of his chest. If she had fallen—if she had hurt herself—

The prospect was enough to make his temper boil over.

“What do you mean by climbing up there?” he barked at her. “Can’t you see how dangerous it is? You might have broken your blasted neck!”

Daisy’s face drained of excitement. “It was my fault. I told her to climb it.”