The invalid’s eyes fluttered open. “Yes, of course, my dear. I was about to name my persecutor.” She paused. “He is none other than Langley Braddock.”

Veronica gasped. Langley Braddock was a well-known financier and socialite of the highest reputation. He moved in the best circles and called many an important man his friend. Yet Mrs. Eden claimed him as her oppressor. How could this be?

Mrs. Eden nodded weakly. “I see you recognize the name.” Her tone was bitter as she continued. “To the rest of the world he is a paragon, a leader of society, but to me he is a heartless, cold tyrant. He is the executor of my late husband’s estate, and he has stolen almost everything my husband left me to further his own dark schemes.”

Veronica found herself in a quandary. Langley Braddock was an acquaintance of her own guardian and had been entertained by Aunt Araminta on at least three occasions. She recalled him as a distinguished man of somewhat cold and regal bearing. She had not warmed to him herself but knew her guardian admired him. Yet Mrs. Eden claimed him as the source of her danger. Perhaps the woman was deranged after all.

“I see you are doubtful.” Mrs. Eden sighed heavily. “That is my great misfortune, because he is such a plausible rogue. I alone know the truth, yet no one will believe me.”

Veronica spoke hesitantly. “Have you any proof of his crimes against you?”

Mrs. Eden nodded wearily. “The evidence lies in my late husband’s papers, but the villain has them in his own keeping. He has taken great pains to discredit me, and no lawyer will go against him. So you see, my plight is desperate. He means to sell my house and force me into utter penury. I will soon have nothing left.”

Veronica held her response, for at that moment Bradberry appeared through the door, pushing a tea tray in front of him. He came to a halt beside Veronica. “Perhaps you will serve, miss, as Madam is not well.”

Veronica inclined her head to indicate that she would. “That will be all, thank you,” she said firmly.

Bradberry departed, and Veronica poured tea for herself and her hostess. “Here,” she said as she handed the cup and saucer to the invalid. “Perhaps this will help restore you somewhat.”

Mrs. Eden accepted the tea gratefully and began to sip at it. Veronica took her own cup and began to drink. The tea was strong—stronger, in fact, than she normally liked—but as she was so thirsty, she drank down the first cup and quickly poured herself a second.

There was a plate of sandwiches, and Veronica selected one and placed it on a small dish, which she then proffered to Mrs. Eden. Her hostess waved it limply away. “The tea is enough for now.”