They scarcely talked for the rest of the evening, each lost in her own thoughts. Again and again Emily ran through her mind the possibilities of who the nameless monster could be, for it had to be someone near to them, someone privy to their movements if not their thoughts. If it was not Clifton, could it be Barraclough or perhaps a Heaton? For a moment Emily narrowed her eyes at Mr. Nicholls, who had joined them for dinner, and then at once dismissed him as a potential suspect. Thirteen years ago, he had still been in Ireland, and besides, he was not nearly interesting enough to be hiding a secret devotion to an ancient demonic witchcraft cult. As it was, he had given up conversing with Charlotte on the second attempt, engaging Papa in a low, droning conversation about liturgy.

Emily had thought she understood the extremes of the human soul—that she had witnessed every insane and awful impulse that could possess a heart and drive it mad—but this monster, whoever he was, was something worse than she had ever imagined, and that disturbed her greatly. It could be that Lizzy Goode was wrong, of course. That she was an interesting and compelling woman was not in doubt, but they had no proof that she was right in her supposition other than her word. And so Emily clung to the thought that such abhorrence simply could not be true if she had yet to imagine it.

After supper the sisters convened around the table.

“Then tomorrow we shall take the coach to Halifax—agreed?” Emily suggested.

“Yes,” Charlotte said, “I believe Halifax is our next best hope of discovering more information. Perhaps the matron Bradshaw schemed with is still in their employ, and if she is, then at least we will be able to alert its trustees to her misdeeds. Lady Hartley is particularly keen to find a way to press Bradshaw further—”

“Is Lady Hartley added to our ranks now?” Emily asked Charlotte. “Will we ride to Halifax in her fine carriage tomorrow?”

“No,” Charlotte said. “She told me she has another important engagement to attend to, but that she will continue to pursue the truth. I am sure she thought Clifton Bradshaw would simply bend to her will, and he did, more than a little. It was quite astonishing to see, and we would never have known about the orphanage if it was not for Catherine. In the meantime, she will ask her husband to make some enquiries with suppliers and merchants Bradshaw deals with in the hope it might bring more pressure to bear on him.”

“A forced confession is not a safe one.” Emily frowned. “I suppose we all might admit to something we didn’t do if our livelihoods were at stake. It doesn’t seem like the tactic of a principled and fair person.”