Now, in the drawing room with the constable, Mrs. Whitstone snorted. “That’s ridiculous. Why in the world would Cecil ever give you . . .” Her voice trailed off. She stared at Evangeline.

Evangeline realized that she had said too much. It will be our secret. But Cecil wasn’t here. She felt desperate, trapped.

And now, in defending herself, she had given away the real secret.

“Where is the younger Mr. Whitstone now?” the constable asked.

“Abroad,” said Mrs. Whitstone, at the same time that Evangeline said, “Venice.”

“An attempt could be made to contact him,” the constable said. “Do you have an address?”

Mrs. Whitstone shook her head. “That will not be necessary.” Crossing her arms, she said, “It’s obvious the girl is lying.”

The constable raised an eyebrow. “Is there a history of lying?”

“I have no idea. Miss Stokes has only been with us a few months.”

“Five,” Evangeline said. Summoning her strength, she turned to face the constable. “I’ve done my best to educate Mrs. Whitstone’s children and help shape their moral character. I’ve never been accused of anything.”

Mrs. Whitstone gave a dry little laugh. “So she says.”

“Easy enough to find out,” the constable said.

“I did not steal the ring,” Evangeline said. “I swear it.”

The constable tapped the notebook with his pencil. “Noted.”

Mrs. Whitstone gave Evangeline a cold, appraising look. “The truth is, I’ve had my suspicions about this girl for some time. She comes and goes at odd hours of the day and night. She’s secretive. The housemaids find her aloof. And now we know why. She stole a family heirloom and thought she would get away with it.”

“Would you be willing to testify to that effect?”

“Certainly.”

Evangeline’s stomach dropped. “Please,” she begged the constable, “could we wait for Cecil’s return?”

Mrs. Whitstone turned on her with a scowl. “I will not tolerate this inappropriate familiarity. He is Mr. Whitstone to you.”

The constable twitched his moustache. “I believe I have what I need, Miss Stokes. You may go. I’ve a few more questions for the lady of the house.”

Evangeline looked from one to the other. Mrs. Whitstone raised her chin. “Wait in your room. I’ll send someone for you presently.”

If there was any question in Evangeline’s mind about the gravity of her predicament, the answer made itself clear soon enough.

On her way down the stairs to the servants’ quarters, she encountered various members of the household staff, all of whom nodded soberly or looked away. The assistant butler gave her a wincing smile. As she was passing the room Agnes shared with another housemaid on the landing between two staircases, the door opened and Agnes stepped out. She blanched when she saw Evangeline and tried to duck past, but Evangeline grabbed her arm.

“What are ye doing?” Agnes hissed. “Let go of me.”

Evangeline glanced around the hallway and, seeing no one, pushed Agnes back into the room and closed the door. “You took that ring from my room. You had no right.”