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The remark was intended as a jest, but it recalled the concealed passages which had already proved so useful to the conspirators. “Indeed,” Baines said.

Sir Lionel regarded him more closely. “You are not seriously concerned?”

“I should prefer to know where she is.”

“Then I shall ask Simmons to make enquiries.”

“He has already done so. No one has seen her.”

The older gentleman’s expression changed. “Not at all?”

“Not this morning.”

Sir Lionel rose slowly. “Then perhaps we ought to look for her.”

Baines had already reached that conclusion. The house seemed strangely altered once he began searching it in earnest.

Corridors which had appeared familiar now offered too many doors, too many concealed staircases, and too many opportunities for a person to pass unnoticed. Servants moved about their duties with the ordinary efficiency of a household preparing for luncheon, while the guests continued their conversations entirely unaware that Baines had begun to fear something was wrong.

He resisted the temptation to summon Renforth immediately. There was still no evidence that Judith had been harmed, and an unnecessary alarm might expose the investigation at precisely the moment when Mallory’s delivery was being made.

Nevertheless, he could not dismiss the possibility that her absence was connected to the threat against her.

He returned to the morning room and found Lady Dunsmore standing beside the hearth, attempting to persuade Horatio to surrender a ribbon which had evidently belonged to someone’s bonnet.

“Major Baines,” she exclaimed, “perhaps you can be of assistance. This dreadful animal has developed a passion for stealing anything made of silk.”

Baines glanced at the spaniel. Horatio regarded him with cheerful indifference. “I fear my influence over dogs is limited, my lady.”

“Then you are no more useful than the rest of the gentlemen in this house.”

“An observation which has been made before.”

Lady Dunsmore laughed.

He looked towards Miss Hammond, who sat beside the window with a piece of embroidery in her lap. Her needle remained motionless, and she appeared unusually distracted. “Miss Hammond, have you seen Miss Finch this morning?”

She looked up quickly as though unused to being addressed. “Miss Finch?”

“Yes.”

“No, Major, I do not believe I have.”

“Did you speak with her last evening?”

Miss Hammond glanced towards her sister. Lady Dunsmore had succeeded in retrieving the ribbon and was now examining it with considerable displeasure. “I cannot recall,” Miss Hammond said.

Baines regarded her. She had not answered with the certainty he expected, and the movement of her eyes suggested that she was reluctant to speak freely. “Perhaps you might remember later,” he said pleasantly.

“I am sorry I cannot be of more assistance.”

“Not at all.”

Lady Dunsmore turned towards them. “She is undoubtedly occupied with some household matter. I hope she is attending to the fire in my bedchamber. I have complained of it twice already.”

“I shall be certain to mention it when I see her.”

“Do, and please also tell her that Ptolemy requires his dinner earlier than usual. The poor creature has scarcely touched his breakfast.”