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The dramatic melody filled the room, crowding out everything else.

Selena’s captivated expression suggested that she was equally affected.

Suddenly, four students burst in through the open doorway and stopped, their eyes wide.

Mrs. Lloyd and Tabitha followed. They all watched and listened as if entranced.

Mr. Chapman, barely glancing up at this intrusion, played on gloriously for another few minutes and concluded the piece with a flourish. Everyone burst into applause.

“Bravo!” cried Selena.

“That was wonderful,” Athena enthused.

Mr. Chapman stood and faced the girls, a smile lighting his handsome face. “Well, well, and who are these lovely creatures? They look far too grown up and sophisticated to be the girls I’m going to teach.”

The students giggled and exchanged furtive whispers.

“Are you our new music master?” blurted Miss Weaver, with hope in her voice.

“He is, indeed,” Athena announced. “Girls, may I present Mr. Chapman?”

He gave an illustrious bow and then shook hands with each pupil as Athena introduced them.

“Miss Jones? How do you do? Miss Weaver? It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance.

Miss Gilbert? And Miss Cecilia Gilbert? Not twins, I think, but as close as twins.

I’ll bet you tell each other everything, am I right? ”

The Gilbert sisters grinned, their eyes shining.

“I was promised five students, but I count only four,” Mr. Chapman noted.

“Miss Russell lives in a nearby village, and she goes home every Sunday,” Miss Jones explained.

“Ah! I see,” replied he.

“Mr. Chapman, may I present our housekeeper, Mrs. Lloyd, and head housemaid, Tabitha?” Athena interjected with a hand flourish.

He strolled up to the two servants and bowed. “It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance. Mrs. Lloyd, please give my compliments to your cook. Tea was delicious.”

“Thank you, Mr. Chapman,” replied Mrs. Lloyd as she and the maid, with uncharacteristic grins, curtseyed.

Miss Gilbert tugged on Mr. Chapman’s sleeve. “Will you play something else?”

“Yes! Play another song!” cried Miss Cecelia.

“I’m happy to. But you’ll have to ask your headmistress.”

“Please, Miss Taylor! Please!” cried the girls, jumping up and down.

“Mr. Chapman doesn’t start work until tomorrow,” Athena pointed out.

But the girls continued their pleas and Selena whispered in Athena’s ear, “We have nothing else going on at the moment.”

“Very well. Mr. Chapman, if you wish—play on.”

He resumed his seat and encouraged everyone to gather around the pianoforte. “What shall it be? Perhaps something you all know so you can sing along?”

The students peppered him with suggestions.

He chose “Greensleeves” and began playing.

Mr. Chapman’s clear, confident, and expressive tenor led the way as everyone in the room exuberantly sang along.

Athena was delighted by the jolly atmosphere that pervaded the room.

When the song was finished, everyone clapped loudly, including the player.

“What a splendid choir. I can see that I shall have very little to do when it comes to teaching you girls to sing.”

The students shouted with laughter. It took an unusual amount of persuading before Athena and Selena succeeded in ushering the girls and the servants out of the room to return to their previous activities.

When all was quiet once more, Athena thanked Mr. Chapman and said, “This has been our school’s most enjoyable Sunday on record.”

“An unremarkable achievement, considering that school has only been in session for a month,” noted he with a wink.

Athena and her sister laughed. They agreed that he would arrive the following day a half hour before his class began. When they reached the front hall, he paused.

“I almost forgot. I have an invitation for you from Mrs. Hillman.” He removed a letter from his coat pocket. “It’s addressed to you both.”

“I’ll take it.” Selena opened the missive and read it with a smile. “Mrs. Hillman has invited us to tea at Darkmoor Park on Wednesday at three o’clock.”

“How kind,” Athena said. She and Selena had enjoyed tea at Darkmoor Park once before, several months ago. “But one of us must stay here. Selena, you may feel free to go.”

“I thought school is not in session on Wednesday afternoons?” Mr. Chapman inquired.

“It’s not. But someone must still watch over the girls,” Athena explained.

“How about if I come on Wednesday?” Mr. Chapman offered. “I could roll up the carpet and give dancing lessons. We’ll have a jolly time, and you can both go to tea.”

Selena’s breath caught. “Are you serious?”

“It’s a generous offer, Mr. Chapman,” said Athena. “But I’m afraid we couldn’t pay you for the extra time.”

“I wouldn’t accept, even if you did.” Mr. Chapman studied her. “I see you silently deliberating, Miss Taylor. You’re thinking, As headmistress, the school is my responsibility . But everyone deserves a little time off now and then.”

Athena hesitated. She did feel that if she accepted, she would be shirking her duty. But the idea of an afternoon off was tempting.

“I assure you that your students will be in safe hands,” said Mr. Chapman. “You’ll be back in time for dinner, and I’ll be on my way.”

Athena turned to her sister. “What do you think?”

“I think we should accept with alacrity.”

Athena smiled. “You heard my sister. Wait a moment, and I’ll dash off a note of acceptance to Mrs. Hillman.”

After the front door closed behind Mr. Chapman, Selena gave a happy sigh. “What a pleasure it will be to look at that man’s face three afternoons a week.”

“I wonder if he dances as well as he plays and sings?”

“If only we could be here on Wednesday to find out.”

“We’ll have plenty of other opportunities to see him perform,” Athena remarked.

“Yes, we will. How wonderful is that?” They couldn’t help but laugh.

*

Mr. Chapman’s pianoforte class on Monday went smoothly.

Athena sat quietly in a corner, observing.

He put the two instruments to good use, giving each girl time to practice.

Although the pupils had varying degrees of experience and skill, he conducted an instructive and engaging lesson that left all the girls smiling.

Athena came away very pleased with their new music teacher, and with herself for hiring him.

After the girls had retired for the evening, Selena hemmed sheets, and Athena tackled some paperwork in their study.

Everything is proceeding smoothly , Athena congratulated herself.

Her students were getting along. Athena was having a marvelous time teaching science, art, reading, and writing.

Even after only a month of instruction, she was delighted to see the progress her pupils were making, and to hear the excitement in their voices when they came to understand a new concept.

Selena was equally enthralled, having reported that their students were faring well in mathematics, foreign languages, and history.

However, as she reviewed Mrs. Lloyd’s planned menus for next week and paid several bills, her thoughts kept drifting two other subjects that had been haunting her for days. One: their too-small enrollment. How she was going to fix that remained a mystery.

And two: Sally Osborn.

Athena wouldn’t feel satisfied until she knew what had happened to that unfortunate young woman. Taking out a fresh piece of paper, she dipped her pen in the inkwell and summarized everything that she had learned so far.

1.Sally was found dead in the river, with an injury to the back of her head.

2.She was wearing her best shoes instead of her work boots.

3.Either Sally had made her bed, or she hadn’t slept in it.

4.Sally apparently hadn’t had a beau, nor any friends but Tabitha.

5.The night before she died, Sally’s mind had been elsewhere. She had seemed excited and nervous.

6.Sally was fond of quoting scripture, in particular Proverbs 17:28.

7.Sally had a secret romance years ago while she worked at Woodcroft House.

8.Sally left Woodcroft House nine years ago and started working at Thorndale Manor.

9.After that, she swore off men and was “never the same.”

What did it all mean?

Athena reread the list, and when she came to the eighth item, she paused, her pulse beating faster. Nine years ago.

Nine years ago, Caroline Vernon had been hanged for murdering Harold Sinclair.

Athena knew very little about that murder, except that the victim had apparently been poisoned.

Had Sally Osborn been working at Woodcroft House when Harold Sinclair had been killed?

If so, could it have had anything to do with Sally’s reason for leaving that job, and her change in behavior afterwards?

Proverbs 17:28 echoed in Athena’s mind. “‘ Even a fool is considered wise if he keeps silent, and discerning when he holds his tongue. ’”

What if , Athena suddenly wondered, it wasn’t Caroline Vernon who murdered Harold Sinclair, but someone else entirely?

Had Sally Osborn seen something the night Harold Sinclair had been killed? What if she had been a witness to the murder itself—and knew it hadn’t been Caroline Vernon—and yet had held her tongue all these years? If so, had someone just learned what she’d known and killed her for it?

Sally’s decision to wear her best shoes still suggested that she’d gone down to the riverbank to meet someone special, perhaps a beau.

And yet, a new idea came to Athena’s mind.

Might Sally have set up a meeting at the riverbank to blackmail the true murderer of Harold Sinclair?

It would explain her excitement and nervousness, for such an endeavor would have involved a change of thinking, and she must have known it could prove dangerous.

Perhaps it had. Perhaps the meeting had gone wrong, and Sally had paid for it with her life.

Selena’s warnings came back to her.

“It is a long stretch of the imagination to suspect that someone deliberately took Sally Osborn’s life, based on the state of her bed and her choice of shoes.”

Was Selena right? Was Athena mad to be conjecturing such things? She longed for counsel from her older sister, Diana—and she owed her a letter.

Withdrawing a fresh sheet of paper from her desk, Athena wrote a long letter to Diana, bringing her up to date on all that had happened over the past few days.

She informed her of Sally’s death and everything she had learned so far, and she had just begun writing about her suspicions when a light knock sounded on the open door. Mrs. Lloyd was standing in the doorway.

“Miss Taylor, may I have a word?”

“Certainly. Come in.” Athena covered her letter with a blotter. The housekeeper’s visit, she realized, was opportune. Mrs. Lloyd had worked here for decades and must have known a great deal about its former occupants.

“I’ve found a suitable young woman for the maid’s position,” Mrs. Lloyd announced without preamble, stopping before Athena’s desk.

“Her name is Laura. She is employed as a maid of all work for a tradesman’s family, and she jumped at the chance to work at Thorndale Manor.

She can start in a week and will live on the premises. ”

“Thank you so much, Mrs. Lloyd. I trust your judgment as always and look forward to meeting Laura.”

Mrs. Lloyd nodded. “You are most welcome, Miss Taylor.”

“Before you go, do you have a few minutes?” Athena gestured to the chair before her desk.

Mrs. Lloyd sat down. Athena leaned forward and clasped her hands.

“Mrs. Lloyd, the other day you mentioned that Sally Osborn had worked at Thorndale Manor for nine years. How did you remember that number so specifically?”

The housekeeper hesitated. “Well, miss. I remember because we were all in a fog of grief at the time. It was just after Miss Vernon had been taken away to York Prison.”

Athena’s insides fluttered. She’d been right. Sally Osborn had left Woodcroft House just after the murder of Harold Sinclair. “What else do you remember about that time?”

“I remember that one of our maids had just left to get married.” Mrs. Lloyd grimaced as if she’d just tasted a sour grape. “I was glad to see the back of that one—and grateful when Sally showed up at the door, asking about the position.”

The housekeeper, Athena noted, had clearly disliked the maid in question. Athena wondered why but dismissed the notion for now as perhaps irrelevant.

“I’ve heard about Miss Vernon’s conviction, but I know very little about the crime itself. Mrs. Lloyd, can you tell me what happened?”

Mrs. Lloyd crossed her arms over her full bosom. “What happened is, Harold Sinclair was poisoned. They blamed Miss Vernon. And she paid for it… with her life. End of story.”

“A tragic story,” Athena acknowledged gently. “I imagine you must have known Miss Vernon well?”

The housekeeper’s face remained impassive. “I did. I was here the day she was born. I was a chambermaid at the time. She was the master’s only daughter.”

“Were you fond of her?”

“Very. Miss Vernon was the prettiest and sweetest little girl you ever saw. In my eyes, she could do no wrong.”

Athena took that in, wondering, Did that include murder?

She leaned forward in her chair. “What else can you tell me about her, Mrs. Lloyd?”