"I assure you, this is the first and only copy I have ever purchased"

"You were lucky to get it." She started toward the door. "Mrs. Fordyce's latest novel is being serialized in it. She is very popular. I expect the copies will be sold out quickly. In fact, I made certain to send Willoughby off to find a newsboy first thing this morning. I couldn't bear to risk missing the next chapter of The Mysterious Gentleman."

A sense of impending doom struck him. "I did not realize that you read Mrs. Fordyce's work."

"Yes, indeed. Her new story is the best one to date, as far as I am concerned. The villain is a man named Edmund Drake. We do not know what he is about yet, but it is obvious that he has wicked intentions toward the heroine, Lydia Hope."

He felt his jaw tighten. "So I have been told."

She paused at the door. "Rest assured, he will meet a dreadful end. Mrs. Fordyce's last villain was taken off to spend his remaining days confined in an insane asylum. I expect she has something equally dire planned for Edmund Drake."

A short time later in the privacy of his bedchamber, he freed himself of his tie, waistcoat and shirt and settled down on the bed to get some badly needed rest. He tried to focus his thoughts on the next step in his plans to locate the diary, but for some bizarre reason he kept returning to the matter of Caroline Fordyce.

She was certainly not his usual type. But in other ways she fit what Julia was pleased to call his rules quite well. She was not an innocent young lady like Jessica, who had to be guarded as closely as a chest of gold until she was married off to a suitable husband. Nor was she the wife of a friend or a business associate, another category of female he was careful to avoid.

She was a widow and likely a rather worldly one at that. Surely only a woman of considerable experience could write the sort of lurid, melodramatic plots that made sensation novels all the rage.

Judging by her house and gown, Caroline certainly did not control a fortune but she did appear to be making a comfortable living with her writing. True, she did not move in elevated social circles, but that was an excellent thing, he decided. There would be less likelihood of gossip.

He groaned and covered his eyes with his forearm. He had enough problems at the moment. The last thing he should be considering was the possibility of having an affair with Caroline Fordyce.

Unfortunately, he seemed to be able to think of very little else.

FOUR

When Caroline walked into the study later that afternoon, she found her aunts waiting for her. They were seated in front of the hearth, drinking tea. They looked at her expectantly.

"Well?" Milly demanded with her usual enthusiasm.

`There is no question about it. The mysterious gentle-man who called on me early this morning did, indeed, tell the truth." Caroline sat down behind her desk. "Elizabeth Delmont was murdered last night after the séance. So much for the possibility that Mr. Grove, or whatever his name may be, is either mad or a mischief-making trickster."

It had been a weak hope but she had clung to it.

"What did you see when you went to Delmont's ad-dress?" Emma asked, looking, as usual, as though she was braced for the worst possible news.

Caroline propped her elbows on the desk and rested her chin on the heels of her hands. "There was a constable standing at the door and a crowd of curious neighbors and some gentlemen of the press gathered in the street."

"You were careful not to be seen, I trust?" Emma said anxiously.

"Of course." Caroline wrinkled her nose. "Not that any-one would have recognized me. in any event."

"Nevertheless, one cannot he too cautious in a matter such as this," Emma reminded her. "The murder will be a great sensation in the papers soon. It would not do to have your name linked to it in any way, especially in light of that unfortunate article concerning your demonstration of psychical powers at Harriet Hughes's tea"

"Don't remind me," Caroline muttered. "What a mistake that was. I don't know why I let you and Aunt Emma talk me into it.»

`"Now, now, it was very entertaining," Milly said lightly. "Harriet and her friends were all quite thrilled."

Emma frowned. "But who knows what the press might make of such a connection if Caroline were seen at the house where a medium was murdered? It could prove disastrous. We can only pray that it does not get out that she was among the sitters at Delmont's last séance"

"Mr. Grove led me to believe that he has no intention of giving the list of sitters to the police," Caroline said. But what if he changed his mind?

Emma echoed her thoughts. "Who knows what the man will do? He sounds quite eccentric, to say the least. Imagine setting out to find a killer on his own."

"It is certainly not the sort of behavior one expects from a gentleman who moves in elevated circles," Milly agreed. "I wonder what is in that missing diary that concerns him.

And then there's that business of a false name." She made a tut-tutting sound.

So many questions, Caroline thought. She had not been able to write a single line after the man who had called him-self Adam Grove had departed. He was gone but he had left his shadow behind. It hovered over the entire household.

She looked at the two people she loved most in the world. Anxiety gripped her. It was her fault that their lives had been turned upside down three years ago. She could not allow such a thing to happen again. She had a responsibility to protect them from another great scandal—or worse.

Emma and Milly had raised her from the age of two. They had taken her into their home after her mother had expired from an overdose of laudanum. She had called each woman «aunt» since she had learned to talk, but in truth Emma, her mother's sister, was the only one of the pair who was related to her by blood.

They were both women of a certain age. They had been something more than very good friends for years, sharing not only a home and the responsibility of raising a child, but a seemingly endless variety of enthusiasms and interests.

The pair made a striking contrast in both looks and temperament. Emma was tall, handsome in a severe manner and inclined to a dour view of the world. She was not entirely devoid of a sense of humor but laughter did not come easily to her.

Milly, on the other hand, was short, plump and so light of heart that those who did not know her well often concluded that she was a bit frivolous. Nothing could have been farther from the truth. Milly was as intelligent and well-educated as Emma but there was a strong streak of the romantic in her.

Caroline had long ago concluded that her aunts' tastes in gowns paralleled their temperaments. Emma favored dark, subdued dresses with a minimum of ribbons and flounces. She went about looking as though she were in perpetual mourning, a style that happened to be very much in fashion.

But there was another, equally popular direction in fashion these days. It emphasized a riotous jumble of colors, patterns, trims and designs, and it suited Milly perfectly. The dress she wore this afternoon was an excellent case in point. It was a mix of red and gold stripes and black and white checks. Fringe swayed from the madras plaid sleeves and neckline. A ruffled red petticoat peeked out from beneath the hem.

Emma poured tea for Caroline. "The entire affair is extremely disturbing. Do you suppose the killer was watching from the shadows last night when we left Mrs. Delmont's house? Waiting for his opportunity, as it were?"

"What a chilling thought." Milly sounded more thrilled than chilled. "1 must admit, I thought the séance last night was quite exciting. I particularly liked the business of the ghostly hand rising up beside the table. Very effective. I feared that Mr. McDaniel would faint dead away when the fingers reached out to touch his sleeve."