Ranleigh groaned. "I had no idea where you were. Sebastian and I were making fools of ourselves, practically shouting our sentences."

"I know. We heard you. What the devil were you doing there, anyway? Your aim was to keep Evesham out of his house, not bring him right back there."

Rutherford gave Ranleigh a fulminating look. "Damon took it into his head to start talking about Evesham's d.a.m.n-fool collection of knickknacks."

"Well, I couldn't converse with the fellow. By the time dinner was over, I had pretty much run out of anything to say. He doesn't even play billiards. I was desperate for something to keep him talking so he would not leave early. I remembered Anne saying that he collected things." Damon paused and glowered at his friend. "Anyway, it was you who had to blurt out that you would love to see his collection sometime."

"How was I to know the fool would take it into his head to show me right then?" Rutherford shot back.

The two men looked at each other and began to chuckle. "Lord," Ranleigh said, "we looked like idiots all the way over here, riding like old men and talking about every d.a.m.n fool thing we saw along the way."

They laughed, their relief turning them giddy, and the four of them turned and started back along the road to Elverton. As they rode, Bryan told them of their failure to find the necklace in Evesham's house.

"He has thrown it away by now," Rutherford said gloomily. "I am sure of it. It was a wild-goose chase the whole time."

"So what do we do now?" Bryan asked.

"Talk to the Childses," Priscilla answered promptly.

The other three men turned to look at her, perplexed. "But they think I did it," Ranleigh reminded her.

"Yes, I know. But if I could talk to Childs and get him to tell me exactly what his sister said, not what he interpreted it to mean, we might get some clues as to who it really was. Maybe he or his mother heard something that meant nothing to him but will mean something to you or Mr. Rutherford."

Damon was silent for a moment, then said thoughtfully, "Yes. I suppose so. I know that Alec said on the way to the constable's the other night Childs kept raving about having proof, said there was something he found in Rose's room afterward. Some frippery thing her lover-he said me, of course-had given her."

"What?" Rutherford asked, intrigued. "You didn't tell me about this."

"I didn't remember it earlier. It just flashed into my mind when Miss Hamilton said that. It would be bizarre, wouldn't it, if she'd had in her possession something that would point to the real killer after all this time?"

There was a moment of stunned silence at his words. Finally Bryan said, "You mean he a.s.sumed it was yours, this thing? And never brought it forward? But why?"

"I'm not sure. All I know is what Alec told me the other morning. I think he found it after I was already gone. He probably figured there was no point to showing it."

"Then I would say it is very much worth a talk with our Mr. Childs," Bryan said. "Is he still locked up?"

"I think so. Serving a couple of weeks for being drunk and disorderly. But I am not pressing charges on the other things."

"You are going to let them set him free?" Bryan asked, appalled. "After he tried to kill you?"

"He's had enough misery in his life without being sent to prison, don't you think?"

Bryan seemed flabbergasted, but Priscilla said, "I think you are a very warm and generous man, Your Grace. And I am sure that Mr. Childs will be more willing to talk after this. It sounds hopeful."

"It's worth a try, anyway," Damon agreed. "I confess that if that doesn't work, I am a little stumped. The only thing I can think to do is choke a confession out of Evesham."

Rutherford spoke up. "After spending several hours in his company tonight, I will be happy to do the choking myself."

They rode on through the night, the three men dropping Priscilla off at Chalcomb Manor to spend the night. Because of the presence of his father and Rutherford, Bryan's farewell to Priscilla was necessarily quite chaste, but his eyes spoke volumes as he bent over her hand and kissed it.

"The wedding date must be soon," he murmured.

Priscilla nodded and smiled, though inside she was already beginning to worry and doubt her decision. She knew she should have told him about her writing tonight; it had been cowardly of her to back away from it. She would have to tell him, she told herself as she opened the door and walked inside the manor, and soon, before he had a chance to spread the word that they were getting married.

PRISCILLA ROSE LATE THE NEXT MORNING and breakfasted with Anne, who was eager to hear all the details of the night before. Priscilla gave her a very much expurgated account, telling of their failure to find anything, but added that they planned to question Tom Childs further about what his sister had said about her "gentleman," as well as the object he had given her.

"Damon didn't tell me about that!" Anne exclaimed, grimacing. "Men! They think a woman is too fragile to hear anything. Sometimes it is exceedingly annoying."

Priscilla thought, a little smugly, that Bryan was no longer that sort. He had shown no qualms about her partic.i.p.ating in their adventure last night.

After breakfast, Priscilla dressed in the clothes she had brought over the night before, chatted for a while with Anne, then started home. She was somewhat surprised, when she arrived at Evermere Cottage, to see the vicar's small gig in front of the house. She walked inside and found the vicar in the cozy sitting room with her father and Miss Pennybaker. Miss Pennybaker's cheeks were flushed, her eyes were bright, and she looked far prettier than Priscilla had ever seen her, even the night of the ball. Her father, too, looked different, though at first she could not place why. Then she saw the bandage on her father's forehead.

"Papa!" she exclaimed. "What happened? Did another experiment blow up? You ought to be more careful, you know."

"What? Oh, no. How was the evening with Lady Chalcomb?"

"Quite pleasant. But first, tell me about your injury. If it was not an experiment, what did you do?"

"Well, I, ah, actually, it was- Well, I think I shall let the vicar tell you about it. Right now, I have work to do. Isabelle?" He turned to Miss Pennybaker, holding out his hand and smiling in a way that Priscilla had never seen him do before.

"Papa?" she asked, wondering if the injury to his head had damaged the inside, as well. He was wearing a grin that was positively foolish. And why had he called Penny "Isabelle"? It was her first name, Priscilla thought, but she had never heard anyone use it, and it seemed rather rude of Papa to speak to her so familiarly.

"Yes, Florian." Miss Pennybaker rose, all smiles, reaching out to clasp Mr. Hamilton's hand. She glanced over at Priscilla and hesitated. "But, Florian, don't you think we ought to tell Priscilla the news?"

"What news?" Priscilla asked, feeling as if she had walked into a house she did not know. Everyone looked the same, but they were all acting so strange.

"Well, my dear..." Florian paused, and Miss Pennybaker blushed, t.i.ttering behind her hand. "Miss Pennybaker has done me the honor of consenting to be my wife."

Priscilla gaped.

"I see we have taken you by surprise," Florian went on in masterly understatement. "Well, not such a surprise, really. Bound to happen one day, I suppose."

"But how- When-?"

Florian waved an airy hand. "The vicar will fill you in on all the details. Isabelle and I have work to do now."

With that, he turned and left the room with his fiancee, his head close to hers in talk. Priscilla stared after them, then swung around to the innocent vicar.

"What in the world is going on?" she exclaimed. "What happened? When I left, everything was as usual."

"Well, we had a meeting last night. You know, your father, Dr. Hightower, the general and me. Miss Pennybaker was there, too, for she brought us the tea and all, and then she found your father's notes for him. We were talking about Mr. Edison's experiments in the United States, and then...well, I am not sure exactly how it happened. But the general addressed some remark to Miss Pennybaker, and your father took exception to it."

"Why?"

"I am not entirely sure. As I remember, it was an innocuous remark, something about wanting to show her an experiment he had been working on. Then Florian got quite upset and declared that the general was making warm remarks to her. Well, the general, of course, said that he was not. He called your father a 'dog in the manger,' I believe. And, well, it went rapidly downhill after that. Miss Pennybaker kept fluttering back and forth between the two men, trying to persuade them to stop their foolish argument. But no one would listen to reason. Finally the general said that he was going to ask Miss Pennybaker to marry him, whereupon that good lady gasped and fainted dead away on the sofa. Florian got enraged and jumped up and popped the general right on the nose. The general got up, shouting and swinging at your father, all the while trying to hold his handkerchief to his nose to stop the bleeding. He chased Florian all around the room, and finally Florian fell backward over a footstool and knocked his head on a chair leg. That is the injury on his forehead.

"At that point, Miss Pennybaker came to and saw your father struggling to sit up, looking rather woozy and bleeding from his forehead. She rounded on the general like a tiger, telling him that he was arrogant and bellicose and, oh, I don't know what else. She said he should not have attacked your father, and the general, needless to say, felt somewhat wronged by this statement. She went over to help Florian up, and was holding her handkerchief to his head and asking if he was all right. That is when both the general and your father realized that she loved your father. So your father asked her to marry him, she said yes, and the general went off in a huff."

"My," Priscilla responded inadequately. "I can hardly believe it. I always suspected that Miss Pennybaker was half in love with Papa, but he never seemed to know she existed."

"Apparently he discovered her."

Priscilla chuckled. The vicar smiled back.

"Now, tell me-how are things going with that young man of yours?"

"We have been trying to prove that his father did not kill Rose Childs, but it has been very difficult. It was so long ago. Ranleigh was talking about questioning Mr. Childs."

"I wouldn't think Tom is very interested in answering any of the Duke's questions."

"No. Although the Duke thinks that something new has turned up, something that might point to another man."

"You know, I have been wondering something about that night. At first, like everyone else, I more or less a.s.sumed that the Marquess was guilty of it. It did not look good, especially after he ran away. But now, since he has come back, and you seem convinced that he really was somewhere else that night-"

"I am sure of it. I have the word of someone whom I trust implicitly. He was with...that person. He could not have been in Lady's Woods."

"What I wonder is, where was Mr. Rutherford during that time that he said he was with Lynden?"

Priscilla simply stared at him. "What? What do you mean?"

"Well, Rutherford came forward and said that Lynden was with him, but obviously Lynden was not. He was with...this other person. So if Lynden was not with Rutherford, who was? And where was he?"

Priscilla blinked. "Yes, I see. Obviously, his alibi for Lynden was an alibi for himself, as well. If Lynden was not with him, then he did not really have an alibi."

The vicar nodded.

"But, Vicar!" Priscilla breathed, aghast. "Surely you don't suspect Mr. Rutherford!"

The older man shrugged. "Frankly, I don't know who I suspect or don't suspect. Only G.o.d and the killer know for sure who he is. But now that you have convinced me that the killer was not the Marquess, it makes me doubt all the notions I held as truth about the matter. One was that the young Mr. Rutherford was covering up for his friend. What if, in doing so, he was really covering up for himself? Mr. Rutherford would, after all, qualify as a 'young gentleman.' To a naive young serving girl, he probably would have appeared wealthy. He was living at Ranleigh Court during the time of the affair and the murder. What if he knew that Lynden was out visiting this person whom he could not acknowledge he was seeing? And what if he realized that by giving Lynden an alibi, he was also guaranteeing that Lynden would alibi him, even though Lynden had no idea where his friend was at that time."

Priscilla stared. "Reverend Whiting, I never realized that your mind could work in such a devious way!"

"Frankly, neither did I," said a masculine voice from the doorway.

Both Priscilla and the vicar whirled around, startled. Sebastian Rutherford stood there, hat in hand, watching them.

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE.

PRISCILLA BLUSHED BRIGHT RED. Rutherford had obviously heard them speculating about the possibility that he could have been the murderer.

"Oh, dear," the vicar commented weakly.

"Yes. Oh, dear."

"I am terribly sorry that you heard that," Priscilla began in embarra.s.sment.

"I am sure you are."

"I hope you won't be angry with us. We were simply trying to think of any and every possibility, you see."

"No, I am not angry with you, my dear Miss Hamilton. I am merely regretful." He raised his hand, which he had been holding by his side and slightly behind him, and pointed the pistol in it straight at Priscilla.

"Oh, dear, oh, dear," the little vicar began to say in a breathy litany of fear. Priscilla merely felt cold all the way down to her toes.

"I didn't believe it," she said in amazement. "Even after what the vicar said, I was so certain that it was wrong that all I felt was embarra.s.sment when you came in and found us talking about it."

"I am pleased to find that you hold me in such esteem. Unfortunately, I doubt that Bryan or Damon will be quite so reluctant to accept the possibility. Even before I overheard you and the reverend speaking, I saw how this thing was going. I knew that once you started snooping around, checking out Evesham and talking to Rose's family, it would soon be the end of my masquerade. I tried to scare you off by encouraging Evesham to come home early, but it did not seem to deter you at all. Instead, you decided that you would talk to Rose's family! And they have whatever Damon was talking about yesterday. When he sees it, he is quite likely to realize to whom it belongs. I think it is best if I make my move before you and the vicar have the opportunity to talk to everyone about his little theory."

"What do you plan to do?" Priscilla asked. "Kill us both to silence us? That is bound to cast suspicion on you. There must be someone who saw you riding over here or will see you riding away. It is broad daylight outside."

"I realize that. But I don't plan to kill you. That is, unless I am forced to. I am afraid I am not very good at such things. I didn't even do a very good job the first time."

"I don't know. You certainly managed to cast suspicion on the man who thought you were his friend," Priscilla responded acidly.

"Do you think I intended to do that? I did not. I had no idea where Damon was or where he had been going all those nights. I had simply been glad he was gone, because it had allowed me to pursue my dalliance with Rose. It never occurred to me that he would be unable to tell where he was at the time Rose was killed. Well, frankly, I didn't think about it one way or another. I didn't intend to kill her. It just happened."

"Is that what you are going to do now? Just let murder happen again?" Priscilla asked sarcastically.

"Priscilla," the vicar murmured anxiously, "do not antagonize him."

Rutherford's face darkened, and he started toward them, saying, "Yes, my dear, do not antagonize me. I might forget how much I detest bloodshed, if you push me."

"You are quite brave when you are facing a woman-with a pistol in your hand."

Rutherford's jaw tightened, and for an instant Priscilla thought he was going to break and fly into a rage. She braced herself, not sure what her needling would incite. But he visibly forced himself to calm down. In a level voice, he said, "Priscilla, come here."

"No." The frail vicar stepped in front of her. "I will not allow you to carry her off."

"You are going to stop me?" Rutherford swept a scornful look over the small white-haired man.

"I am going to try. I will not let you take this young, innocent girl out and kill her-not as long as there is breath in my body."

Rutherford sighed. "Don't force me to hurt you, Reverend. I am not going to kill Miss Hamilton, or even hurt her, no matter how annoying she can be. She is my a.s.set, the chip that I will trade to the Aylesworths in return for my freedom."

"What?" Priscilla looked at him, puzzled.

"I told you I saw the impossibility of remaining here. It is only a matter of time until all of you figure out the truth. Unfortunately, I haven't the means to leave the country. That is what I will get from Damon, and in return I will spare the life of the woman his son loves. I think he will make the trade."

"You're joking. You threw suspicion of murder on Ranleigh thirty years ago, so that he fled his home and country, and now you expect him to finance your flight from justice?"

"It will be a small price to pay, actually, for proving that Damon did not commit the murder. He might give me the money in return for that. But I would rather not count on it. Damon tends to hold a grudge. So I think it best that I give him more incentive, such as his son's future happiness."

He moved toward them again. The vicar braced himself, lifting his fists in a move that would have been ludicrous, had it not been so touching. Priscilla put her hand on his arm.