‘Yes—thank goodness it is all completed now. It was so good of Sir Oswald to help us in our time of need,’ Mrs Wilberforce said.
‘Sir Oswald—the architect?’ Lord Stanley asked.
‘Yes, that’s him. One of our father’s friends—you remember him, Henry. In any case, Sir Oswald, along with Matthew,managed the entire refurbishment. I am so glad they did, for I scarcely had a moment between our frequent trips to London for William’s work and caring for Tom. He was so very delicate that year. And I could not bear returning there so soon after Father...’
Mr Wilberforce placed a tender hand over his wife’s. ‘It was a difficult year for all of us.’
‘And I am sorry I could not be here for you,’ Lord Stanley replied, with a degree of feeling that surprised Charlotte.
‘Well, you are here now.’ Mrs Wilberforce wiped away a tear, then, forcing a note of cheerfulness into her voice, continued, ‘The entire west wing—the family rooms, the study, the drawing room—has all been modernised. You will be most comfortable, Henry. No more draughts in the bedchambers, thank goodness. And we were fortunate the fire did not spread to the library—it would have been impossible to replace all those tomes.’
Charlotte frowned slightly. ‘What fire?’ she whispered to the spinsters.
Miss Underwood leaned closer and murmured quietly, ‘The late Baron died in the fire two years ago. They believe he fell asleep in his study reading and that a candle was knocked over by a draught from an open window.’
Charlotte’s eyes widened. ‘That is dreadful. I had thought he died of natural causes.’
Miss Underwood shook her head. ‘A terrible tragedy. Mrs Wilberforce and her family were living there at the time and escaped—but the Baron was not so fortunate. That is why they reside here now, in the dowager house. It lies scarcely a quarter of a mile from the big house.’
‘Do you think Master Tom is still affected by it?’ Charlotte asked softly. ‘It may explain some of his behaviour.’
Miss Underwood gave a small, sad smile and nodded.
The evening soon drew to a close, and the remaining guests took their leave.
Charlotte slipped away unnoticed, retreating to the safety of her room.
She had survived the evening—only just. Yet dread still coiled tightly in her stomach.
It was exactly as Anne and Sarah had predicted. Lord Stanley had named her the prime suspect. He had not recognised her tonight—but if the Bow Street Runners were searching for her, it was only a matter of time.
She must find the true killer and clear her name soon—or she truly would be sent to the gallows.
Then a far more terrifying thought occurred to her.
Now that the authorities knew her as ‘the girl seen fleeing the stables’, it stood to reason that the Odd Fellows—and the true killer, the Wolf—would be searching for her as well.
To silence the sole witness to the murder.
But now they had something far more dangerous than a description.
They had her name.
Charlotte Walker.
A sickening dread settled over her.
If her true identity were discovered, her life would be in genuine danger.
She swallowed hard. How on earth was she meant to escape this dreadful mess now?
Rubbing her temples wearily, she paced her room.
Then suddenly, it struck her.
The Wolf had mentioned attending a house party the previous year—and that three... what had he called them? Ah yes, Grand Fellows, had also been present. No doubt some sinister higher rank within their secret society.
Could that gathering have taken place at Alderley Park?
