“Well everything’s ready,” Maggie said as she poured tea. “And he shouldn’t be long.”

“Are we waiting for Eliot?” I asked.

“Oh no,” Maggie said. “He’ll be at the Brockmans’ until late. Good timing, eh, madam?”

When she had gone, Mrs. Dell said, “Maggie is more than a servant. She is my rock and my friend. I have Maggie as Benjamin Brockman has Raynor.”

I wondered whether there was a deeper meaning attached to this remark, but simply agreed that Raynor did indeed seem loyal. I did not say that he had kept me in his sights in such a way that led me to believe he knew why I had come.

“I like you, Mrs. Shackleton. The son of one of our tenants told me about your interest in photography, as well as your other exploits.”

Something told me that it was the other exploits that aroused her curiosity. Perhaps now I would hear why she had chosen me as the person to bring her home.

“When my daughter-in-law died, I was in my bedroom.” She indicated an adjoining door. “Maggie’s room is also in this wing. Phyllis was too far away for us to hear. There was no need for her to die. I cannot say that Eliot murdered her, but I can say that he let her die, and die alone. That is one of the reasons I shall be leaving.”

“Where are you going?”

“My younger son is coming to collect me and Maggie. Our bags are packed. I thought he might be here by now.”

That seemed such a drastic measure that for a moment I did not know what to say. “Does Eliot know?”

“I may have mentioned it, but I don’t believe he took me seriously.”

“And have you confronted him, about your reason?”

“Oh yes. But he has no fears of me. Quite the reverse. And you see, I might be next.”

“Surely not?”

“He wishes to move to a grander place. He will shed anything and anyone that holds him back: Phyllis, the orphanage and the children, this house, me. I cannot prevent his inheritance, but I mean to live a little longer.”

“This is so shocking. Have you told anyone?”

“My younger son. Even he believes I am imagining things, but all the same he is coming for me.”

I was about to speak again, but she interrupted. “Whatever breach there is between Eliot and me, how could I say more than that he has always had great plans? I would be seen as a dozy old woman, best confined to quarters.”

We had both forgotten the dainty sandwiches. She picked one up and began to eat. I did the same. It had been a long time since breakfast. It saved me from thinking how on earth to respond. I did not need to. She continued.