"Miss Tremaine may have had the costume made to wear at a fancy dress ball next week."

"Have you any idea why she would want to run away?"

"I do not know. I only know that she was bewildered and unhappy in society. Her father is a country rector and her parents would expect her to marry someone with money to offset the cost of a Season."

"Nothing wrong with that," muttered the earl.

"I a.s.sume you have interviewed her parents," said Rose. "Have they any idea why she would want to run away?"

"None whatsoever," said Kerridge. "In fact, they say that she was about to be engaged before the Season even started. To a certain Lord Berrow."

"Lord Berrow is old," said Rose. "That is probably the reason she wanted to run away."

"Fiddlesticks," said Lady Polly. "The trouble is that girls these days will read cheap romances. One does not marry for love."

"Steady on, old girl," protested the earl.

"We were a rare exception," said Lady Polly. "Where is this rector's church?"

"Probably somewhere dire like Much-Slopping-in-the Bog," said the earl. "Hey, rather neat that, what?"

Quite amazing, thought Kerridge. Their only child has just discovered a murder and yet they seem to have no concern for her welfare.

"Captain Cathcart," announced the butler.

"How did he get here so quickly?" asked the earl.

"He's got a motor car," said Rose.

"Nasty, smelly things. Never replace the horse. Sit down, Cathcart." The earl pointed a finger at Rose. "Rose is in trouble again."

Kerridge reflected briefly that one of his mother's lectures had been, "Don't point. Ladies and gentlemen don't point." This lot would have been an eye-opener, thought Kerridge sourly.

"Lady Rose," he began, "discovered the murdered body of a Miss Dolly Tremaine early this morning." Harry listened intently as Kerridge outlined all he knew.

"What do her family say?" asked Harry. "Had she any enemies?"

"They are grief-stricken and bewildered. They do not know of any enemies."

"Any brothers or sisters?"

"One son, Jeremy, aged twenty-seven. I think they might come up with more information when they get over the shock."

"Odd, that," commented the earl. "Only two children. Thought those Church of England fellows bred like rabbits."

"Not in front of Rose," said Lady Polly. Then she stifled a sigh, thinking of all the little graves in the churchyard at Stacey Court, their country estate-all eight of Rose's little brothers and sisters who had died in childbirth.

"When did you leave the ball last night?" Harry asked Rose.

"Around two in the morning."

"And was Miss Tremaine still there?"

"I remember no longer seeing her around midnight."

"So sometime between, say, midnight and six in the morning, someone murdered her and dressed the body. You will need to search the rector's town house."

"The parents say her bed was not slept in. She planned to run away," said Kerridge. "She may have changed into that costume to please a lover who then murdered her."

"I don't like this," said Harry. "I think whoever murdered her knew she was going to meet Lady Rose early in the morning. Lady Rose, do you still have that note?"

"I must have dropped it at the ball. But I remember putting it in my reticule, which I left with Daisy when I danced."

"We'd better have Daisy here."

Lady Polly ordered Daisy to be brought to the drawing-room.

When she entered, Kerridge said, "Lady Rose says she left her reticule with you while she danced. Did you leave it unattended at any time?"

"I left it on a chair when I danced with the captain," said Daisy. "I was sitting next to Countess Slerely. I usually do. Anyone picking it up and searching in it would be noticed."

"I think you danced with Captain Cathcart before Dolly gave me that note," said Rose. "Did you leave at any other time?"

"Well, one time I had to go to the you-know-what. That was just before midnight."

"I'd better call on Countess Slerely," said Kerridge. "Lady Rose, if you can think of anything else ..."

"No, she can't," said the earl. "She shouldn't have been out at that unG.o.dly hour unchaperoned."

"I was there," said Daisy.

The earl ignored her. "No more cycling for you, young lady. Go to your room."

"As for you," said the earl, glaring at Harry, "as my daughter is somehow involved in this, I expect you to clear things up as soon as possible. And while you're here, what do you think you are doing ignoring my daughter in such a manner?"

"I am sorry. My apologies, but pressure of work-"

"Pah! Behave yourself in future or I shall call off this ridiculous engagement myself."

"I wonder," said Harry later that day to his manservant, "where Dr. Tremaine got enough money to take a house for the Season and to furnish an expensive wardrobe for his daughter."

"He's well-connected," said Becket. "His aunt was Lady Tremaine and she married well and left him quite a large legacy."

"Where did you hear that?"

"You always tell me to listen to servants' gossip. The Running Footman where a lot of them drink is an amazing source of information."

"I suggest you take yourself there this evening and try to find out what you can about the family."

"May I have some money to entertain, sir?"

"Of course," said Harry, hurriedly pulling out his wallet. He drew out a large white five-pound note. "Will this be enough?"

"More than enough. I will bring you the change."

"You may keep any change for further bribery."

"Do you think, sir, that Lady Rose and Miss Levine will be safe?"

"Why?"

"The murderer may think that Miss Tremaine told Lady Rose much more than she actually did."

Harry shifted uneasily. "I am sure they will be all right. I wonder about Lord Berrow. He's in his fifties, is he not?"

"I believe so. He is a widower. Gossip says he drove his wife to an early grave with his womanizing."

"Indeed! So what was saintly Dr. Tremaine about to even consider handing his daughter over to such a man?"

"Lord Berrow is very rich."

"Ah. Do you not find our society very corrupt, Becket?"

"It is not for me to say. Will you be going out this evening?"

"Yes, I may as well call on my fiancee. Her father has accused me of neglect."

Harry had to wait quite a long time while the earl and countess argued over whether he should see their daughter. "I was hoping this deuced engagement would just fizzle out," said the earl.

"We should have sent Rose to India. Mrs. Fanshawe's daughter, who is mortally plain, went out and secured the affections of Colonel Brady. Nonetheless, perhaps if Rose sees more of Captain Cathcart, she will realize her folly. She does seem to be forming a tendre for Sir Peter."

And so they discussed and argued while Harry paced up and down the hall.

At last he was summoned and told that he might have fifteen minutes alone with Rose, provided the door of the drawing-room stayed open.

Before leaving them, Lady Polly watched as Harry rushed forward and, seizing Rose's hands in his, kissed them both. When she had gone, Rose, blushing, s.n.a.t.c.hed her hands away and demanded, "What do you want?"

"I am concerned for your safety. As Becket has just pointed out to me, your life might be in danger. Do be very careful."

"I am tired of being careful," snapped Rose. "I am tired of dressing and undressing and sitting down to enormous banquets which might alleviate some of the misery of the poor of London."

"I thought you might be interested in finding out the ident.i.ty of the murderer?"

Rose's blue eyes lit up with sudden interest.

"How could I do that?"

"This Lord Berrow. If I go to interview him, he will probably clam up. But if you were to meet him socially and start to talk about poor Dolly, then he might tell you more than he would tell either me or Kerridge."

In Scotland Yard, Kerridge was being told that his application to search the rector's town house had been refused and he also got a blistering lecture on his lack of sensitivity in proposing to add more grief to an already grieving family.

He felt tired. He had earlier interviewed Lord Berrow, who had simply stared insolently at him and then threatened to report him to the prime minister.

Harry heard a movement on the landing outside the drawing-room, gathered Rose in his arms and kissed her gently on the forehead just as Lady Polly entered the room.

"You may go now," said Lady Polly. "I have cancelled my daughter's social engagements for the next two days. After that, I will apprise you of her calendar and I expect you to be on hand to escort her."

"Delighted," said Harry and bowed his way out.

Outside, he could still somehow smell the light flower perfume that Rose wore and he swore so loudly that a lady walking her dog stared at him in outrage.

Two days later, Brum, the butler, brought in the morning post as usual on a small silver tray and placed it at the earl's elbow as his lordship was eating breakfast.

Rose looked at the little pile of letters. Had she been a man and not a girl, she thought angrily, any letters addressed to her would have been given to her unopened. Not that there was really anything personal addressed to her, but she lived in hope that perhaps Harry might write to let her know how the case was progressing.

The earl put down his knife and fork and riffled through the letters. Then he rang the bell. "Give these to Mr. Jarvis," he said to Brum. "Nothing of interest here."

"There is one letter addressed to Lady Rose," said Brum.

"Is there? I didn't notice. Let me have it."

"I really think I am capable of reading it myself," said Rose.

Her father paid no attention. He lifted up a letter and stared at it. Then he held out his hand and Brum handed him a letter opener from the tray.

"Harrumph, let me see. Good Gad!"

"What is it?" asked Lady Polly.

"Give me that letter, Pa!" shouted Rose.

"You go to your room, miss. You, too, Levine, and get Cathcart!"