At last the dressing-bell rang, and everybody retired to their rooms, some to meditate upon the uplifting message they had just received; others to array themselves in their finery and think of nothing but dinner. Freddy was doing his best to put Iris out of his mind, since it was clear that the thing could not possibly end well. He wanted to make it up with Daphne, for he was fond of her and did not want them to part on bad terms, and so as he dressed he pondered how best to approach her. He came out of his room and as he reached the head of the stairs saw the Duchess coming out from the East Wing, anxiously smoothing down the folds of her dress, an elegant creation in wine-coloured silk which was quite stunning and made her look ten years younger.

‘Hallo, Freddy,’ she said as she saw him. ‘I was just wondering whether this is the right colour. It’s a little more vivid than I’m used to.’

‘I think it looks jolly nice,’ he said approvingly. ‘You ought to wear bold colours more often.’

‘Do you think so?’

‘Why of course! You’re our hostess and we’ve all come to look at you. Where’s the sense in trying to fade into the background?’

‘I hadn’t thought of it like that,’ she said, as though struck by a new idea. ‘I’m usually too busy thinking about seating arrangements and that sort of thing to worry too much about dress, but this frock is so gorgeous I can’t help but feel that perhaps I’ve been missing something.’

‘It’s a Dragusha, is it?’

‘Yes. I do believe she’s a genius. I feel almost radiant this evening.’

‘There’s no almost about it. Go and show yourself downstairs and you’ll see. Take my arm and we’ll make an entrance. Dr. Bachmann won’t be able to keep his eyes off you.’

‘I think Dr. Bachmann has other things to think about at the moment.’

‘Then it can’t hurt to distract his attention from them and turn his mind to something nicer, can it?’ he said, and she laughed.

‘You’re a good boy, Freddy,’ she said. ‘You always cheer me up.’

‘I’m glad to hear it. Now, let’s go and have a drink.’

They went into the small salon, where several people were already gathered. Near the door, Kitty Fitzsimmons was being charming to Dr. Bachmann, who was looking much less agitated than before and was even managing to laugh. They both looked up as Freddy and Bea entered. Dr. Bachmann directed an admiring look at Bea, who flushed slightly, while Kitty gave her one assessing glance and judged it best to retreat. She cast her eyes about for Cedric, but for once he was not paying attention to her; he, too, had just spied Bea, and was staring at her as though he had never seen her before. He came across to stand before his wife, who regarded him uncertainly, waiting to hear his opinion.

‘Well—I mean to say—er—you look rather well, what?’ he said at last. It was not perhaps the most elegant of compliments, but Bea understood him perfectly. Her face broke into a smile, and she took his proffered arm. Kitty looked briefly taken aback, then recovered herself immediately and fell into conversation with Mrs. Dragusha, who seemed very pleased with the effect her creation had caused upon the room. Conversation, which had stopped, resumed, and Freddy somehow found himself in an awkward tête-à-tête with Ralph, who began to talk determinedly of his and Iris’s plans for their wedding tour. Freddy listened until the subject was exhausted and he could politely withdraw, then found himself standing by Ro, who looked across at Ralph and murmured:

‘Is the wedding still going ahead?’

‘As far as I know,’ he replied.

‘But has nobody told him—’

‘Told him what? There’s nothing to tell,’ he said. ‘And if there were, I’m sure you’d keep it to yourself, wouldn’t you?’

She regarded him in some impatience.

‘You’re an idiot,’ she said.

‘So I understand,’ he said dryly.

Just then, Daphne slipped into the salon alone. She was looking very pretty in pale green, and Freddy could not help but feel a twinge of regret at the sight of her. She did not come all the way into the room, but glanced around until she saw him, then indicated by a gesture that she wished to speak to him outside. He followed her out and into the morning-room. It was clear from her face, which wore an expression of displeasure, that she had not yet forgiven him, but still her first words surprised him.

‘What have you been saying to Goose?’ she snapped. ‘He’s been hovering around me all afternoon, and he seems to think he has your permission for it.’

‘Oh—er—does he?’ said Freddy.

‘Yes, he does. What do you think you’re playing at? Who are you to give anyone permission? I’m not yours to give away.’

‘Goose is a fathead, if that’s what he said,’ said Freddy. ‘But it wasn’t like that at all. He likes you an awful lot—has gone positively gooey about you, as a matter of fact—and all I said was that I shouldn’t stand in his way if he wanted to try and win you over. Nobody’s trying to give anybody away, I promise you. Of course, if you don’t like him, then there’s nothing more to be said, but if you don’t mind him then why not give him a chance? He’s a decent chap—far more so than I am, and a much better prospect, too.’

‘Do you really think that’s all I’m interested in?’ said Daphne heatedly. ‘I’m not Lavinia, and I’ve told you I don’t care two straws about marrying a title. And even if I did, you don’t really think the Duke would allow it, do you?’

‘I don’t see why not,’ said Freddy. ‘He’s a crusty old soul, but kind-hearted with it. No doubt he’d prefer something in the aristocratic line, but he won’t say no to any young woman his son falls in love with, as long as she’s from a respectable family.’

‘Well, then, I’m afraid I don’t qualify,’ said Daphne. She saw his face and gave a humourless laugh. ‘What do you think the Duke would say to an embezzler’s niece?’

‘What do you mean? Who’s an embezzler?’

All at once her anger left her and she seemed to sag.

‘Morris Philpott,’ she said. ‘Lavinia’s husband. My father was rather high up in the Mahjapara Tea Company, and before he died he got Morris a job there as a favour to my mother. A couple of years ago Morris was killed in an accident, and then it was discovered that he had been defrauding the company for ages. I don’t know how he was doing it exactly—something to do with fake shipping bills, they told me—but it turned out he’d made a lot of money out of the scheme. I expect he’d have continued, too, but the accident put a stop to it. It caused a big scandal and was in all the local papers, and we had the police bothering us for months, since they wanted to know whether my father had been in on it too before he died. Of course he hadn’t, but I know there was talk, and suspicion followed us around for a good while.’

‘Good Lord,’ said Freddy. ‘Had Lavinia known anything of all this?’

‘She says not,’ said Daphne. ‘She didn’t collude in it—that I’m certain of—but you know what she’s like. She’s the sort who’s quite capable of ignoring anything unpleasant and pretending it didn’t happen. At any rate, my mother died not long after the story came out, and I was left with Lavinia, and she decided we’d be better off coming back to England.’ Her defiance returned and she drew herself up again. ‘So now you know everything—and you also know why there’s not the slightest use in your trying to pass me off onto Goose, because it will never be allowed.’

‘Don’t think like that,’ said Freddy. ‘Every family has its embarrassing relations. Lord knows the Warehams have enough of them.’

‘But you know perfectly well you’ll never have to apologize for it,’ said Daphne bitterly. ‘The rules don’t apply to your sort, only to mine.’

‘I say, I’m sorry,’ said Freddy.

She shrugged awkwardly.

‘It can’t be helped,’ she said.

‘Professor Coddington knew the story, didn’t he?’

She sighed.

‘Yes, he did,’ she said. ‘He was out in India at the time, I gather, and read about it in all the newspapers. He was absolutely beastly about it. He started by dropping a couple of hints, then followed Lavinia around and pinned her into a corner after dinner that first night, and said in that horrid, supercilious way of his that she was lucky to have been invited to Belsingham given that she had a disgraced husband in her past.’

‘Did he threaten to tell Cedric?’

‘Not as such. He told her not to worry, and that her secret was safe with him, but the way he said it made it obvious that he intended to use it to make her as uncomfortable as possible while she was here. At least, that was the impression she got.’

Freddy said nothing as he tried to digest everything Daphne had told him. Perhaps she misinterpreted his silence, for she said, almost as though she were trying to convince herself:

‘Lavinia’s a good person, you know. Even if she is clumsy and obvious, she means well, and she’s been very kind to me. It was difficult for her to come back to England after so many years, but I believe she felt awful about the damage Morris had done to our reputation, and she wanted to make up for it somehow by taking me to nice places and getting me into good company. I expect I ought to have said no, but—well, I won’t deny it was fun, and then I met you, and Goose, and all your smart friends, and I suppose I was enjoying myself too much to put a stop to it. But Lavinia has the kindest heart, she really does. She’ll do anything for anyone. Why, she even went to offer Mr. Wray some of her sleeping drops just now because she overheard him saying he had a headache.’

‘What?’ said Freddy suddenly. ‘When was this?’

‘A few minutes ago,’ said Daphne, surprised at his sudden change of manner. ‘She said not to wait for her, as she was going to see whether he was in his room—what are you doing?’ she said, as Freddy opened the door.

‘Sorry, but I’ve just remembered I left something upstairs,’ said Freddy, and headed out of the room. She followed him into the hall.

‘What is it?’ she said. ‘There’s something wrong, isn’t there?’

Goose was just coming out of the small salon as they hurried towards the stairs.

‘Hi, where are you going?’ he said. ‘It’s nearly time for dinner.’

‘Is Mrs. Philpott down yet?’ said Freddy.

‘No,’ replied Goose.

‘Then you’d better come with us,’ said Freddy, and took the stairs two at a time. They hurried after him as he headed along to the end of the West Wing corridor and around the corner. He did not bother to knock, but opened Mr. Wray’s door without ceremony. They all paused for a second on the threshold, and Daphne cried out in astonishment at the unexpected sight of Lavinia Philpott in deadly struggle with Mr. Wray, whose usually pale face was suffused with blood as he tried desperately to unclench her strong hands from around his neck.

‘Lavinia!’ cried Daphne.

They all rushed forward, and Lavinia started and let go of the unfortunate clergyman, who fell back, panting.

‘Oh!’ she said, but got no further before Goose took her arms firmly and dragged her away.

‘Thank you,’ said Mr. Wray faintly.

‘Are you all right?’ said Goose. ‘Perhaps we ought to fetch a doctor.’

‘And the police, too,’ said Freddy. ‘Tell them we’ve found the murderer of Professor Coddington.’

‘What?’ exclaimed Goose.

‘But Lavinia didn’t kill him!’ said Daphne, horrified.

‘Not Lavinia,’ said Freddy. ‘Mr. Wray.’