And then there was Wheeler Field, where, trying to protect the planes from sabotage, they had parked them all in the middle of the field. Where it had taken the Japanese Zeros exactly two and a half minutes to destroy them all.

Lady Schrapnell’s motto might be “God is in the details,” but mine was rapidly becoming, “Damned if you do, damned if you don’t.”

I was still thinking about Pearl Harbor when I went down to breakfast. Tossie was standing at the sideboard, holding Princess Arjumand and taking the lids off each of the silver serving dishes and then putting them back on with a dissatisfied expression.

It was the first time I had felt any kinship with her. Poor thing, consigned to a life of frivolousness and wretched things for breakfast. Not allowed to go to school or do anything worthwhile, and eel pie besides. I was thinking I’d been too hard on her when she slammed down the snarling wolf dtsh, picked up the silver bell sitting next to it, and rang it violently.

Baine appeared in a moment, his arms full of coconuts and a length of purple bunting draped over his shoulders. “Yes, miss?” he said.

“Why is there no fish for breakfast this morning?” Tossie said.

“Mrs. Posey is engaged in preparing the cakes and refreshments for the fxte tomorrow,” Baine said. “I told her four hot dishes were sufficient.”

“Well, they are not,” Tossie snapped.

Jane came in with an armful of antimacassars, bobbed a curtsey at Tossie, and said hurriedly, “Beggin’ your pardon, miss. Mr. Baine, the men are here with the tea tent, and Miss Stiggins’s footman is wantin’ to know where the extra chairs are to go.”

“Thank you, Jane,” Baine said. “Tell them I will be there directly.”

“Yes, sorr,” Jane said, bobbed, and ran out.

“I should like grilled trout for breakfast. Since Mrs. Posey is busy, you can prepare it,” Tossie said, and if I’d been Baine I’d have beaned her with one of the coconuts.

Baine merely looked hard at her, clearly trying to maintain a poker face, and said, “As you wish, miss.” He looked at Princess Arjumand. “If you will allow me to speak, miss, encouraging your pet to eat fish is not good for her. It only—”

“I do not allow you to speak,” Tossie said imperiously. “You’re a servant. Bring me the grilled trout immediately.”

“As you wish, miss,” he said, and started out, juggling his coconuts to keep them from falling.

“I want it served on a silver dish,” Tossie called after him. “And tie up that horrid dog of Terence’s. It tried to chase my dearums Juju this morning.”

All right, that settled it. Tossie couldn’t be allowed to marry Terence, and the hell with what our meddling might do to the continuum. A universe in which Cyril (and Baine) had to put up with that wasn’t worth having.

I ran upstairs to Professor Peddick’s room. He wasn’t there, but I found Terence in his room. He was shaving.

“I’ve been thinking,” I said, watching him brush soap on his face in fascination. “This is the third day Professor Peddick’s been away from Oxford, and we still haven’t been down to Runnymede. Perhaps we should go there today and then back to Oxford tomorrow. I mean, we’re only in the way here, what with the jumble sale and all.”

“I promised Miss Mering I’d stay and help with the fête,” he said, scraping the lethally sharp blade along his cheek. “She wants me to be in charge of the Pony Ride.”

“We could take him to Oxford on the train this afternoon,” I said, “and be back in time for the fête. The professor’s sister and niece are no doubt missing him.”

“He sent them a telegram,” Terence said, shaving his chin.

“But they may only be visiting for a short time,” I said. “It would be a shame for him to miss them.”

He looked unconvinced.

“ ‘Time is fleeting,’ ” I said, deciding perhaps a quote was what was needed, “ ‘and opportunities once miss’d, do ne’ er return.’ ”

“True,” Terence said, complacently drawing the blade across his jugular. “But people like Professor Peddick’s relations always stay forever.” He wiped the remains of the soap off with the towel. “The bluestocking niece has probably come up to campaign for women’s colleges, or suffrage, or something, and they’ll be in Oxford all term. Modern girls! Thank goodness Miss Mering is an old-fashioned girl, shy and demure and ‘sweet as the dewy, milk-white thorn, dear as the raptured thrill of joy.’ ”

It was hopeless, but I continued to try for several more minutes, and then went to work on Professor Peddick.

I didn’t make it. Mrs. Mering waylaid me on my way to the fishpond and sent me to put up placards in the village, and it was nearly noon by the time I got back.

Verity was on a ladder on the lawn, putting up Chinese lanterns between the stalls the workmen were hammering together. “Any luck with the diary?”

“No,” she said disgustedly. “I’ve searched every ruffle and cranny of her room, and nothing.” She stepped down off the ladder. “Any luck with Terence?”

I shook my head. “Where is he?” I said, looking round at the stalls. “He’s not with Tossie, is he?”

“No,” she said. “Mrs. Mering sent Terence to Goring for prizes for the fishing stall, and Tossie’s over at the Chattisbournes’ borrowing a ribbon for her hat. She should be gone all afternoon.”

“For a ribbon?”

She nodded. “I told her she needed a special shade of lilac halfway between mauve and periwinkle, with just a hint of lavender blue. And the Chattisbourne girls will want to hear all about you. Both Tossie and Terence should be safely occupied till tea.”

“Good,” I said. “I’m going to work on Professor Peddick this afternoon.”

“That is absolutely out of the question!” Mrs. Mering said, and nearly gave me a heart attack, she sounded so much like Lady Schrapnell. “The fête is tomorrow! My crystal ball must be here by then!”

I picked up a Chinese lantern so it would look like I was working and peered round the woolen goods stall at the half-constructed fortuneteller’s booth.

A workman in a frock coat and top hat and a butcher’s apron was cringing back against his carriage. “Felpham and Muncaster’s greatly regret any inconvenience this may have caused,” he was saying humbly, “and will earnestly endeavor—”

“Inconvenience!” Mrs. Mering shouted. “We are attempting to raise money for our restoration fund!”

I went back over to Verity. “The crystal ball didn’t arrive.”

“You’d think it would have foreseen that that would happen,” she said, grinning. “If you’re going to catch Professor Peddick, you’d best hurry. He and the Colonel are going fishing.”

“It must be here by this afternoon at four,” Mrs. Mering boomed.

“But, Mrs. Mering—”

“Four on the dot!”

“Do you know where Professor Peddick is?” I asked Verity.

“In the library, I think,” she said, taking another Chinese lantern and catching up her skirt to climb the ladder. “He was looking up something about the Battle of Bannockburn. Before you go,” she came back down the ladder a step. “I’ve been thinking over what you said about Finch, and you’re right. He’s not the type to drown a cat.” She put her hand to her forehead. “I don’t always think too clearly when I’m time-lagged.”

“I know the feeling,” I said.

“I haven’t been able to think what Finch is doing here, though,” she said. “Have you?”

I shook my head.

“I’m going through to see if the forensics expert’s had any luck,” she said. “I’ll see what I can find out about Finch. Mr. Dunworthy wouldn’t tell me, but perhaps I can get it out of Warder.”

I nodded and went off to find Professor Peddick, taking the long way round to make sure Mrs. Mering didn’t see me and waylay me again.

The professor wasn’t in the library or the parlor. I went out to check at the stable and then started back toward the house to ask Jane if she knew where he was.