Eleanor patted the spot on the bench next to her. “Good, now Nicholas can clock out,” she said. “He’s ruining Cotswolds Coroner for me. Go put some Rod Stewart on the jukebox.” She held a bacon-wrapped date up to her face to examine it better. “And I can already tell we’ll need more of these.”

“Rod Stewart,” Nick muttered as he walked off.

The open bar had served its intended purpose. Olly’s DJ friend was turning up the music while another pushed some tables against the wall to make a dance floor. Olly bowed before my sister and led her out for an impromptu spin as the DJ grinned, and pushed a button on his MacBook. In the absence of an official first-dance song, his friend had chosen Carly Rae Jepsen’s masterpiece “Call Me Maybe.” Eleanor tapped her foot to the beat and smiled at Olly spinning Lacey around with a light air of being worried he’d jostle the baby.

“It’s awfully nice to see young people in love,” Eleanor said. “I barely remember what that was like.”

“But you did find it,” I said. “You were one of the lucky ones.”

“Yes, well.” The music switched to a slow song, and Lacey buried her face in Olly’s neck. “I never got to see Georgina this way,” Eleanor added. “I often wonder if things would have been different if she’d only accepted what she couldn’t have, instead of…well.”

I felt a nervous slosh in my gut. This was my opening. But I shouldn’t. I couldn’t. Could I? The words bubbled up, and before I could catch them, I blurted, “Was that Henry?”

Eleanor slowly turned to look at me, holding my gaze. She held herself still, and said nothing. She barely seemed to breathe.

“I found the last page of her love letter,” I stammered, queasier by the second. “Addressed to an H. V. Henry Vane. Right? I’ve been trying to think of what else it could be, or how to tell you, but the way you said that just now…it is him, isn’t it? It’s true.”

“Hmm. The truth.” Eleanor tapped her glass with her middle fingernail. “The truth is that Georgina never could help herself. Damn the torpedoes. That was her modus operandi.”

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Lacey coming toward me with two Champagne flutes, and shook my head subtly. She turned on her heel as if she had forgotten something, and neatly deposited the drinks in front of our mother, who was chatting with Olly’s father.