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Seth had never been a patient man. He was always desperate to get to the bottom of any mystery, to root out a lie as quickly as he could.

It was why Alicia was so alluring to him. He did not understand her, so he wanted to delve inside her, reach into the secrets of her soul and keep them for himself.

He blinked, shaking off the strange compulsion, and stared into the darkness ahead.

Nothing moved. All was quiet.

He stepped forward, swallowing back the irrational fear that bubbled up inside him as the weak light from his candle tried to penetrate the cavernous ceiling.

I have not been up here since my father’s funeral.

He moved stealthily through the bric-a-brac, keeping his eye on the floor for rats.

At the back of the room was an old dressing table of his mother’s, the mirror speckled with age and tarnished so badly that he could barely see his reflection in it. Nevertheless, seeing the candlelight moving toward it in the gloom was comforting.

Beside the desk was another door that led to a smaller room, and in front of it was the trunk he had been looking for.

He sighed in relief, glad that his mind had not been playing tricks on him. Hehadkept his correspondence.

During the night, he had had visions of throwing it all out after Gordon’s death, too plagued by grief to think that he might wish to read those treasured letters again.

Wishing to be out of the attic as soon as possible, he walked swiftly to the chest, praying it had been left unlocked, and gave a small cry of triumph as his fingers pushed at the lid and it gave.

Inside were bundles of paper, stacked on top of one another and tied with dusty ribbons.

He placed the candle on the desk beside him and got to work.

Alicia could not sleep.

The kitten was curled up happily at the bottom of her bed, and with the curtains drawn and the fire dying to embers, the room was dark and pleasantly warm.

She should have been slumbering peacefully, but something kept her awake. An incessant but irregular sound came from somewhere, almost as though someone was walking above her head.

It was difficult to imagine that any rooms were still used in the attic, but having lain there for several minutes, listening intently, it certainly sounded like a noise a person might make.

I suppose I should summon a servant, in case it’s a thief.

Alicia’s fingers curled into the sheets above her as she pushed them back, rising from the bed and grabbing her robe.

Her sister had gifted her some slippers as a wedding present, pale yellow with dark brown bows on the top. She slipped them on, cocooning her toes in fine silk, and cracked a small smile. It was almost as if Jane were with her.

The house was pitch black when she opened the door, and she could barely see a foot in front of her.

She went back into her room, collecting a candlestick from her bedside table and lighting it with the embers. Then, she decided that it would be a more pleasant journey if she were not entirely alone.

Going over to the bed, she picked up the kitten, who gave a mournful meow as she woke up. Alicia clutched her to her chest as she headed out into the night.

Once she was outside her room again, she looked up. She could hear a gentle thudding above her, that same irregularity that did not sound quiet enough to be a thief or light enough to be a rodent.

If there are rats where I am going, I will scream.

Clutching the candle more tightly in her hand, she walked toward the small window at the end of the corridor, where she recalled seeing another doorway.

She had assumed it was a servants’ entrance at the time, but as she came upon it, it looked more like an entryway to another part of the house.

Opening the door, a yawning blackness greeted her, but she had always liked the dark.

She struck out along the little passage, listening to the sound as it drew closer.