“No!” The word exploded from her mouth like a ball from a cannon. Forcing herself to calm down, she added, “I need you to do something else.”

Haversham nodded politely, waited, and then prompted, “And that would be?”

“That would be what?” Christiana asked uncertainly.

“The something else you need me to do, my lady,” Haversham explained patiently. “That would be what?”

He was speaking slowly as if to a particularly dull child, but Christiana could hardly blame him for that when she had apparently turned into an idiot. She really had not been made for cloak-and-dagger activities, she decided wearily as she struggled for some errand to send the man on.

“I need you to send one of the servants out to buy a chicken,” she said at last.

Haversham’s eyebrows rose. “A chicken?”

“For Dicky. He’s sick,” she reminded him of the lie. “And they do say chicken soup is good for such things.”

“Yes, they do,” he agreed solemnly. “Should I go upstairs first and see if Lord Radnor desires my assistance undressing and getting himself into bed? I fear his valet is under the weather as well and incapable of aiding him.”

“Freddy is sick?” Christiana asked with surprise. That was a spot of good luck for them. It solved the problem of keeping the valet away from Dicky.

“Deathly ill. I shouldn’t be surprised if he is unavailable for days,” the butler said solemnly, and then added, “I, of course, will make myself available to Lord Radnor to fill in for Freddy in the meantime.”

“Oh no,” Christiana said at once. “I mean, ill as he is, my husband is not likely to need assistance dressing. He’ll no doubt rest abed until he is recovered. I’m sure he won’t need you.”

“Hmmm.” Haversham nodded. “Then I shall arrange for someone to go purchase a chicken and leave you ladies to your endeavors.”

“Yes, you do that,” Christiana said with relief. She waited until he disappeared through the door to the kitchen, and then muttered, “Let’s go,” and immediately started forward again.

“Thank God,” Suzette gasped as Christiana headed for the stairs at a hurried pace. “I thought he’d never leave. And really, Chrissy, you cannot lie at all.”

Christiana grimaced but could hardly argue the fact, so merely picked up the pace as much as she could, eager to unburden herself of her dead husband. By the time they reached the top of the stairs, they were also sweaty and exhausted, but continued forward without resting. They had reached the door to Dicky’s room and Christiana had just jutted out her hip and released one handhold on the rug to open the door when the next door down opened.

Christiana immediately glanced around with alarm. Unfortunately, the slight movement was enough to dislodge the bundle from her hip. She felt it slip off and drop toward the floor, but this time wasn’t quick enough to stop it. Worse yet, Suzette and Lisa were taken by surprise and lost their own holds on the rug. The whole length of it thudded to the floor and then unrolled, spilling a very dead Dicky at the feet of Christiana’s maid as the woman paused in the hall .