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“Of course, I do,” DuBois agreed. “I’ve known Lord Middleborough since he was a child. I know him better than almost anyone. I’ve always known how false the things people say about him are.”

“Then what should we do?” Astrid demanded.

“There’s nothing wecando, My Lady.”

“There must be something!”

Du Bois shook his head. “I’m afraid not,” he said. “I’m afraid he’ll have to handle things on his own for now. But never fear. Lord Middleborough is a very smart man, and he’ll know what needs to be done. He’ll find himself a lawyer who can help get him out of his mess.”

Astrid hated leaving the situation in someone else’s hands. She realized now just how fortunate she had been, after her father’s crime, to have been given a way to protect him from the trouble he’d been facing.

A lawyer will know what to do,she told herself firmly.Put your faith in that.

But how could she? Astrid had always had faith in the police before, and it was clear that they had gotten this horribly wrong. What if Conor’s lawyer was similarly bad at his job?

What if her husband, who she had just begun to know, ended up in jail forever?

She didn’t think she could bear it.

There has to be something I can do, she thought to herself as she made her way up the stairs to the chambers she shared with Conor. She didn’t want to return to the private room he had granted her. Not now. She wanted to be where the memory of him lingered and was strong.

She lay down on the bed in their shared room, curled up on her side against the anguish, and tried to think.What do I do? Who do I ask for help? How can I convince the police of his innocence?

Evidence. They need evidence. Hard evidence. My word isn’t enough. So I’ve got to give them something tangible, something that proves he had nothing to do with it.

Was there any such evidence remaining from last night? She tried to think. DuBois had seen them settle in for their picnic, and she knew he would say so if asked. But he hadn’t seen them after they’d finished eating, and Astrid knew the police would just claim that Conor had slipped out after supper.

There isn’t any evidence that proves he was with me, she thought helplessly.I don’t have anything that proves his innocence.

Which means the only way to exonerate him is to prove someone else’s guilt.

Suddenly she was on her feet, a plan already fully formed in her mind. She couldn’t think too hard about what she was going to do or else she would panic and back out. But it was a good plan, Astrid though. If anything would work, this would.

She ran to her private chambers and rang the bell that would summon her lady’s maid. By the time Betsy arrived, Astrid was sitting at her vanity and staring into the mirror.

“What is it, My Lady?” Betsy asked gently, and Astrid knew by her tone that she must have heard about Conor and his arrest.

“I need you to cut my hair,” Astrid said, running her fingers through her long, dark tresses.

Betsy looked confused. “Why?”

“And I need to borrow some of your clothes,” Astrid continued. “Do you think you have anything that will fit me?”

“My Lady, I don’t understand…”

Astrid turned to face the young maid. “Can you keep a secret?” She asked. “You must. I’m absolutely depending on you.”

Betsy swallowed hard. “I’ll do my best, My Lady.”

“I’m going to be leaving Middleborough Manor,” Astrid said. “But DuBois must think I’m still here. If anyone asks, you’re to tell them I’m in mourning in my room, and that I’m unwilling to receive any guests. It will be up to you to maintain the appearance that I’m here. You’ll need to bring trays of food up each night and dispose of them in whatever way you see fit.”

“My Lady, I don’t understand. Where are you going?”

“To the Angry Boar,” Astrid said.

“That pub? But why?”

“You know that Lord Middleborough has been accused of murder, yes?”