"Did you do it?" she asked as soon as Mrs. Hughes had gone. She was too drained to be anything less than direct.

"Excuse me?"

"Did you do it? Did you…kill Simon Bricker?"

Robert started. "No! Of course not! What purpose would that have served at this point, midway through the trial?"

"I don't—I don't know…"

"None at all," he told her firmly, "none at all. If I were going to kill him, I certainly would have done so before we got this far, and I would never have waited this long."

"I'm sorry. Don't be angry, Robert."

He raised her chin with his hand. "I'm not angry, darling. Just surprised at the question. I don't deny I wanted to kill him. But believe me, if I had, they wouldn't have found him lying dead in his house. They'd have found body parts flung as far as Bombay."

He smiled, and she tried to smile back, but she was still too frightened for him. She had seen an innocent man convicted before. "What if they pin it on you? Find whatever circumstantial evidence they can, and blame it on the man whose wife was assaulted three months before the murder? What if—"

"How do you know it was a murder?"

"I…don't," she said, realizing that whatever her terrified mind was suggesting, they knew absolutely nothing about Bricker's death.

"Isn't it more likely that he died of a heart attack or a stroke or an attack of the appendix than that someone snuck into his house and killed him?"

It was, she had to admit. "I just…I don't know what I'd do without you."

"You won't have to do anything without me. I'm not going anywhere." He stroked her cheek with his thumb. "And what you're going to do now is call Baxter and have her get you ready for bed. You've had a long and difficult day, and it's time we ended it."

She nodded, her body feeling the truth of his last sentence. She moved to ring for Baxter as he left for his own dressing room.

When her maid arrived, Cora could see in the grim satisfaction in Baxter's face that she'd already heard the news.

"They've told you downstairs?"

"Yes, my lady. I don't mind telling you that there was an almost celebratory mood after Mr. Carson announced it."

Cora nodded. She knew she ought to be troubled that her servants would be pleased at a man's death, but she had to admit that she herself was pleased, and she was also gratified at what she knew was loyalty to her.

"I know it's not right to say it, my lady," Baxter went on as she began to unfasten Cora's dress, "but I'm glad, because my first thought was that now I won't have to testify in the morning."

"Oh, you won't!" Cora exclaimed, just now realizing it. "Oh, I am glad for you!"

"I can't help but feel it's selfish—"

"It's not selfish," Cora said, softly but firmly. "It's not selfish at all to want to be spared that ordeal." She moved to sit at her dressing table once Baxter had wrapped her in her robe.

"Are you all right, my lady?" Baxter asked as she began to unpin Cora's hair. "That man was horrid to you this afternoon."

This was not a question, in that other world before the events of last summer, that her maid would have expressed to Cora, nor were any of Baxter's earlier sentiments. Yet things had changed irrevocably between them in the last three months, after hours upon hours of conversations, and their friendship seemed one of the most natural and easiest either had ever had.

Cora sighed. "Everything he said is what quite a few people will think, regardless of how the court rules."

"Then they will be fools who are very wrong, and you must pay them no mind, my lady."

Cora smiled wryly. "Easier said than done, I imagine."

"I don't doubt that."

"I'm glad you haven't got to do it tomorrow."

Baxter paused in her hair brushing to lay her hand briefly on Cora's shoulder. "I only wish he'd died yesterday."

Cora shook her head. "It doesn't matter. It's over now. I only hate the way I fell apart. I'd meant to be so strong."

"You were strong, my lady. I kept thinking how awful it was for you, and how brave you were."

"That's what his lordship said."

"His lordship is right. We were all very proud of you downstairs. I'm very proud of you, my lady."

How odd that sentence would have sounded just last spring, and how comforting it was now.

When Baxter finished with her braid, Cora stood and embraced her—a gesture that had repeated itself many times over the last few months. She heard the dividing door open and Robert enter, but he did not interrupt or comment. In fact, he had never commented on the friendship that Cora found much more a comfort than a liberty or an impertinence. And after the many remarks she had made about Robert's fondness and loyalty for Bates in the early days of his employment, she was very thankful that he had resisted the opportunity to point out her changing views.

"Baxter won't have to testify in the morning," Cora said softly to Robert as she climbed into bed beside him a few moments later.

"No, none of them will," he said, moving to hold her again as he had been before Mrs. Hughes had entered. "It's over, completely over."

"I hope so," she said, her worries still lingering.

"It is." He kissed her. "You'll never have to see him again, or speak about this again, and you know he'll never hurt anyone again. Focus on that, darling. You have nothing to worry for."

Cora awoke at Robert's alarm the next morning, kissing him sleepily when he told her that he was going down but she ought to rest a bit longer. She rolled over and drifted off again, only to be awakened she was not sure how much later by Mary's hand on her arm.

"Mama? I'm sorry to wake you," her eldest said as Cora sat up, blinking the sleep out of her eyes. "But I thought you would want to know that Scotland Yard was here."

"What?"

Mary passed her a cup of tea—had she ever seen her daughter wait on anyone before?—and Cora accepted it shakily. "There's a detective in the drawing room with Papa, questioning him."

"Questioning him?"

"About Bricker's murder."

"Good God!" The world seemed to slow as the room spun around her, and Mary reached to steady her arm before she spilled the tea.

"I don't think they want to know much more than where he was yesterday, and of course we all know he came right back here after the trial ended. But all the same, I thought you would want to know."

Cora began to push back the covers. "I must dress and go down—"

"Drink you tea first, Mama," Mary said, almost gently. She took a seat on the bed. "It will do no good for you to rush down on an empty stomach. They won't let either of us in the room anyway."

Cora took a deep breath. Nothing is wrong, she told herself. Nothing that can't be righted. Robert was here all evening, and they can have no evidence. And yet she still wanted to run downstairs. "Your father doesn't know you're up here, does he?"

"Well, no," Mary admitted. "He was delighted you weren't up yet when they arrived. But I didn't think it was right to keep it from you."

"I'm glad you didn't." Cora paused. "So Mr. Bricker was murdered."

Mary nodded. "Apparently. They think he was poisoned—he got so very ill, so very suddenly. He came staggering out of the drawing room after dinner, getting sick all over himself and all over the floor, screaming that he couldn't see. His butler called an ambulance, and they arrived to find him writhing on the ground, moaning as he clawed at the carpet, with such a slow pulse that they knew he wouldn't live long, and his heart stopped before they could get him out of the house."

"You know quite a bit."

"I got it from Anna, and she heard it all from Bates. The detective went downstairs to see him first thing. They must've thought Papa had put his valet up to it, but of course Bates was here all evening."

Cora nodded. It was not Bates she was worried for. "So Mr. Bricker…did suffer." She hated the pleasure she could feel herself taking in it.

"Yes, and I'm quite glad of it," Mary said calmly. "I only think it unfortunate it was over so quickly for him."

"Mary!"

Her daughter gave her an imperious look. "I can't say it was my style, either. I'd have rather done it with my bare hands."

"Mary, you mustn't say things like that!" Her heart clenched at the thought of how daughter's grandstanding could be taken. Mary's alibi was as solid as Robert's, wasn't it? Surely she had not gone out before dinner last night either…

"Don't worry, Mama; I was here all evening," Mary said, as though she could read her mother's worry.

Before Cora could speak again, the door opened and Robert entered with a tentative first step, as though unsure whether she was still asleep. And then his eyes fell on Mary.

"Mary! What on earth are you doing in here?"

She regarded her father calmly. "Papa, no woman in Mama's position would want to be blindsided if something had come of your conversation this morning. But I take it nothing did?"

"Nothing at all," he spat. "They're quite convinced I was here, my valet was here, and I had nothing to do with it. So you've frightened your mother for absolutely nothing."

It was too quick for anyone but her mother to have noticed it—no one else ever did—but Cora saw the slightest hint of doubt flash in Mary's eyes. "You've done nothing wrong, my dear," she said, pulling her close and kissing her. "But I'd like to hear what your father has to say about the morning. We'll talk more later."

Mary nodded and stood, both of them ignoring Robert's sigh of irritation.

"And thank you for the tea," Cora said gently, earning a soft smile from Mary as she left.

"You mustn't be so protective," she said to Robert, no anger in her tone, as he sat down on the bed. "She thought she was doing the right thing, and frankly, I agree with her. I'd like to know if my husband's in danger of arrest!"

"I'm sorry, darling." He took her hand. "I can't help but want to wrap you in gossamer and guard you from the slightest of bumps and bruises."

"I know, and I love you for it," she said quietly. "But you can't protect me from every bit of the world. Now tell me what's happened this morning."

He sighed. "Very little, other than that I've repeated my whereabouts yesterday fifty times, and had them confirmed by half the household. We've also discussed at length how nonsensical it would be for me to murder the animal now, now that we've already started the trial. I'm clear, as far as the police are concerned, and it disappoints them immensely as they haven't got any other leads."

"Won't they question me?"

"It doesn't seem so, so thank heaven for small wonders. A neighbor apparently saw 'a man' enter and exit Bricker's home yesterday in the late afternoon, although his face wasn't visible and she's not been able to be any more descriptive than that. 'A man.' I can understand how that irritates the police."

Cora nodded, feeling a twisted sense of gratitude that whoever it had been would likely get away with it.

AN: Thanks to everyone who wished me luck on the GMAT! It's a huge math review, because I'm a writer who hasn't thought about numbers since high school (and I graduated in 07, so it's been awhile).

Also, I wanted to reiterate my promise that I WILL solve this murder. We've probably got two more chapters, and I'll be revealing it at the very end.