“Rowena thought so too,” Tabitha said. “I think he’s far too old.”
“And Mr. Travis?” I asked casually.
She frowned. “Who?”
“He’s one of the Spiritualists visiting Rosefield,” Elizabeth explained. “Very tall and rather thin? From the village?”
Tabitha shrugged. “I don’t know him. Hardly sounds worth an introduction.”
Elizabeth rolled her eyes at me. “Is that all?” she pressed Tabitha.
“Yes. We were busy reading Greek myths and Caroline was an absolute bear about letting us out to mingle with the adults.”
Tabitha wavered in front of me, but only for a moment. Then Rowena was there, streaming water and lily petals. Her hand was pale and fluttered up to her neck. On her left hand, the gold ring with the tiny pearls that I’d found in the mud. The one Tabitha had grabbed from me. The one she was wearing right now.
“Rowena’s ring,” I murmured questioningly. Tabitha curled her finger into the palm of her opposite hand, as if to hide it.
“I said as much,” she answered defensively. “So?”
“Tabitha,” I said gently. “What are you hiding?”
“Nothing. She wouldn’t tell me who gave it to her, and she wouldn’t take it off.” She looked as if she might say something else, but Caroline rushed in, flustered.
“There you are,” she said. “I wondered where you’d gone off to.”
Tabitha clamped her lips together. “I’ve hardly run away,” she said, annoyed. “You needn’t hover like a henmother. I’m perfectly capable of being alone for an hour.”
Caroline murmured placatingly and sat on a settee in the corner. Tabitha looked away, her entire posture changing. Whatever she might have been getting ready to tell us wasn’t going to be revealed now. Not with her governess watching her every movement. Tabitha stiffened, as if her corset had just been tightened.
“Thank you for visiting,” she said. “But I’m feeling a little off.”
“Perhaps you ought to lie down,” Caroline suggested softly.
“No, I’ll go for a walk in the garden.” She was pale. She pulled a tin of lozenges out of her pocket and slipped one under her tongue.
Elizabeth frowned. “Are those laudanum candies? Why are you taking those?”
“I have black headaches,” she answered tersely. She walked away without another word. I tried to ignore the hazy presence of several ghost-maids, winking in and out of sight by the window, all staring at me beseechingly.
I didn’t like the way Caroline watched us go, her expression determined and even more pinched than usual.
CHAPTER 13
None of our subtle espionage had done us much good. Even our more deliberate questioning hadn’t revealed anything particularly helpful. At this rate, I’d be an old lady in my rocking chair with Rowena still flitting about me like an annoying gnat. The image alone was enough to keep me awake for hours.
I finally gave up and decided to go downstairs to the library. I went as quietly as I could, bringing a candle with me so I wouldn’t stumble into any furniture and wake the household. I was being so careful, I knew instantly that the creak of floorboards wasn’t the result of my own footsteps. I froze. Another creak. I had no idea if it was a ghostly footstep or a more mundane human step. Either way, I had no wish to be discovered.
I blew out my candle and slipped into the shadows caused by a tall mahogany armoire and a cluster of ferns at the top of the stairs. I held my breath and waited. The creaking became louder and finally a figure came around the corner.
Mr. Travis.
He looked positively dreadful. His eyes were red as if he’d been drinking, but he seemed perfectly sober. Weeping might have caused such redness, but I didn’t know what he could have to weep about. His slouch was more pronounced, as if it was a struggle to hold his posture. I frowned as he passed by me and went down the stairs. I debated fetching Elizabeth but there was no time. I eased out of the corner to follow him. He was clearly up to no good.
Mr. Travis passed the parlor without pausing. I raced from the shadowy safety of fern to fern to clock. I avoided the urns altogether. I hadn’t thought he was moving very quickly but I lost sight of him around the corner past the library. The ballroom was an empty cavern. Frustrated, I turned on my heel, wondering how I was going to find him now.
I’d lost him entirely until I heard a murmur of voices from the men’s private smoking room. The door was closed. I knelt silently in front of it, pressing my eye to the keyhole. I could see the flicker of a small fire in the grate and oil lamps on the tables. Lord Jasper puffed on an ebony pipe, reclining in his chair.
“Can’t sleep again, old chap?” he asked Mr. Travis.
Mr. Travis ran a hand through his disheveled hair. “I’m afraid not.”
“You look awful,” Peter slurred cheerfully. “Come and play at cards. I could use some more pocket money, if you’ve got any to lose. Ran clear through all my monthly allowance already.”
Mr. Travis joined them at the polished table, passing around a decanter of port and playing cards. I wouldn’t get a better opportunity to suss out their secrets. I made a special point to seek out Lords Fitzwilliam, Winterbourne, and Underhall. Winterbourne was the only one of them not playing. Sir Wentworth’s face was flushed, whether from sitting so near the fire or too much port, I couldn’t tell. Frederic and Peter were definitely suffering the effects of too much port. If they swayed into each other any closer, Frederic would be sitting in Peter’s lap. I entertained the notion of going to fetch Elizabeth but decided against it. At the sight of Frederic’s undone cravat and open collar she’d squeal and we’d be found out for sure.