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Reflecting upon these circumstances gave Athena a twinge of guilt.

It bothered her that she, as the new owner of the estate, had benefitted from the misfortunes of others.

But , she reminded herself, the circumstances of the Vernon family were not of my making .

And, whether or not the purchase of Thorndale Manor had been a wise investment was still a matter of debate.

“The previous owner’s difficulty in selling the house should have been a warning,” Athena remarked testily. “Not to mention the legend about the ghost.” It was said that the ghost of the murderess Caroline Vernon haunted the house and neighborhood. “It is so ridiculous!

Selena darted her a glance. “Is it?”

“Of course. There are no such things as ghosts.”

“Then what was that the first night after we moved in?”

Athena bit her lip, reliving the moment in her mind. She and Selena had been walking down the second-floor hallway of Thorndale Manor when they had heard a sound and had sensed an eerie, unseen presence, even though—and they had checked—no one else had been about.

“I don’t know. It was a dark night, and we had heard the legend about a ghost. I think we let our imaginations run away with us.”

“And yet, the grocer’s wife said, ‘ You are braver women than I to live in that house .’”

“Just more gossip for the rumor mill. The grocer, if you recall, rolled his eyes over his wife’s proclamation and winked at us.”

“True.”

“I prefer to stand on facts. That was the one and only time we have ever experienced such a thing. Despite all the rumors and superstitions, over the past five months, we have not seen nor heard the slightest whisper of an apparition at Thorndale Manor, and neither has anyone else.”

“Also true.”

Athena had hoped that the house’s history and the legend about a ghost would simply be seen as intriguing stories.

After all, the murder of Harold Sinclair had not occurred at Thorndale Manor, but at a neighboring estate.

Caroline Vernon had paid for her crime nine years ago.

Thorndale Manor was under new ownership now and it was the ideal setting for a school. Everything would be fine.

The reality, however, had proven to be quite different.

Many parents had been reluctant to send their daughters to a school that was housed in a building with such an infamous past.

“That said,” Athena pointed out with a frown, “if we don’t find a way to get more students, our school may have to close before it’s even had a chance to get started.”

Selena took Athena’s hand in hers and gave it an affectionate squeeze. “Don’t worry. Things will start looking up soon.”

“You can’t know that.”

“But I do. We’ll work so hard and teach these girls so brilliantly that our own reputation will grow and supersede the awful events that befell the Vernon family.”

Athena couldn’t help but smile. At times, Selena’s relentless optimism seemed naive.

But at this moment, it was exactly what Athena needed to hear.

Although Athena was the headmistress of the school, she and her sister had split the teaching duties between them.

Selena was one of the smartest, most cheerful people Athena knew, and their pupils had all fallen in love with her.

Her proposition was entirely possible. Thorndale Manor was a splendid house and together, she and her sister could…

would … build this school into something great.

“You’re right.” Athena nodded. “After all, we have a new music master arriving shortly.”

“Thank goodness for that.” Selena laughed.

They were prepared to teach all the academic subjects in their curriculum, but music was one of their shortcomings.

Neither of them was known for their singing, and their pianoforte-playing abilities had stalled at age ten, when they had become so engrossed in novel reading, they hadn’t made time to practice.

As governesses, they had gotten by, teaching the basics of music as best they could, but for Darkmoor Bridge School, they wanted a more professional approach.

“Mr. Peter Chapman seems ideal for the position,” Athena observed.

A music tutor who reputedly sang and played the pianoforte with expertise, Mr. Chapman had, as a young man, been the ward of a wealthy neighbor, Mrs. Hillman, who owned a neighboring estate, Darkmoor Park.

They had engaged him by letter. He had been traveling on the Continent all summer and was due to arrive in the village of Darkmoor Bridge in a few days’ time to start work.

“Based on Mrs. Hillman’s reports, I believe our girls will like him very much.” Selena smiled. “And once the word gets out, by spring, I predict we’ll have a dozen pupils.”

“At least!” Grinning, Athena checked the watch that hung from the chatelaine at her waist. It was 10:30 A.M. Clapping her hands, she called out, “Girls! Time for class!”

The three remaining pupils sped like mad towards the house, as if in competition to see who could reach it first. Athena and Selena turned to follow.

As the girls disappeared into the building, Selena said, “I hope you told Miss Russell and Miss Jones to come straight back without stopping?”

“I did.”

At that moment, the two young ladies raced into the yard. Athena frowned. They hadn’t been gone long enough to check on Sally and get back, and they were both running—an action strictly reserved for the play yard. Something must be wrong.

“Miss Taylor! Miss Selena!” Lucy Russell exclaimed. They both halted in front of them, out of breath.

“It’s horrible!” Miss Jones’s face was ashen. “Just horrible!”

“What’s horrible?” Selena asked.

“Sally Osborn is dead.” Miss Russell seemed more intrigued by the circumstance than frightened.

Athena stared at the girl, confounded. “What do you mean, dead?”

“She d-drowned!” Miss Jones exclaimed in a trembling voice. “They found her in the river!”

The shocking, awful news reverberated through Athena’s core. “ Who found her?”

“Her sister, Miss Osborn. We saw Sally’s body on the ground.”

“On the embankment beneath the bridge.” Miss Jones shuddered. “She looked so white and cold.”

“Are you quite certain she’s dead?” Selena asked gently.

“Yes. The men said so,” Miss Russell replied.

“What men?” Athena asked.

“I don’t know. We heard them talking, and we turned and ran.”

Athena employed the most soothing voice that she could muster. “Girls, I’m so sorry you had to see that. But you may have heard wrong.”

Selena took the girls into her arms and hugged them. “Let us hope and pray that Sally will be all right.”

“I know this was a shock. You may have some quiet time in your room until luncheon,” Athena offered.

“I don’t want quiet time,” Miss Russell insisted.

“Neither do I,” agreed Miss Jones. “Please, may we return to class?”

“Of course you may.”

The girls rushed off into the house.

Selena shook her head. “I hope the girls misinterpreted what they saw and heard.”

“So do I.” Athena’s stomach tightened with worry. “Poor Sally. What a horrible thing!” Had she truly drowned? If so, how and when? She felt her sister’s eyes on her. “What?”

“You’re dying to go down there and find out what happened.” It was a statement, not a question.

Athena never could hide anything from Selena. Since childhood, they had been as close as twins. “I am,” she admitted.

“Go.” Selena made a waving motion with one hand. “I teach the next two class periods, in any case.”

“Are you sure you don’t mind?”

“You’ll be back in plenty of time to help me supervise luncheon, won’t you? If not, I only have five pupils to look after. I know you too well, Athena. Go . Satisfy your curiosity. You won’t be any good to anybody until you do.”