Free Night of a Thousand Stars by Deanna Raybourn

think you’re right, miss.”
    I shoved the book back onto the bookshelf with reluctant fingers. “I think his leaving this behind is a sign that we are onto something here.”
    Masterman said nothing as I prodded her downstairs to find the landlady. Mrs. Webb was in the kitchen finishing laying the tea things, and she gave us an apologetic look.
    “I’ve nearly done here if you would go through to the sitting room, my dears.”
    I hesitated. We had passed the sitting room on our way up the stairs. It was precisely the sort of room a proper landlady would keep—chilly and formal with an ancient Victorian horsehair suite of furniture and too many china ornaments. It was not a place for confidences. No, one wanted a kitchen for that. Many secrets could be exchanged in a warm and cosy room over a fat brown teapot and good bread and butter.
    “That is so kind of you, Mrs. Webb, but I wonder if you would mind very much if we had our tea in here? It’s just that I seem to have twisted my ankle a little in these wretched shoes and I shouldn’t like to take my shoe off in your lovely sitting room.”
    With that little confession, Mrs. Webb dropped her formal manner and began to fuss like a mother hen. She insisted on making up a basin of hot water liberally dosed with salts for soaking my ankle and settling me in front of the welcoming fire. She had cut generous slices of bread and butter and we ate these companionably as Mrs. Webb poured out from a fat brown teapot precisely as I had expected. There were slices of feather-light sponge to follow with homemade raspberry jam, and I had to resist the urge to lick my fingers.
    “I promise you, Mrs. Webb, I haven’t had such a lovely tea since our last English nanny left,” I said. As soon as the words were out, I could have bitten my tongue. I hadn’t intended to reveal anything true about myself, much less that I came from a family of means.
    Masterman darted me a quick glance, but I dropped my eyes and affected a little break in my voice. “I oughtn’t talk of better days,” I said softly. I gave Mrs. Webb a look from under my lashes. “The family has come down in the world,” I murmured. “Financial reversals.”
    Mrs. Webb gave me a kindly smile. “I do understand, dear. And little wonder you enjoyed it then. I was a nanny for twenty years before I married. I missed all the little ones terribly when I left service. Mr. Webb did always say I fussed too much, but I do so like to look after my guests properly.”
    I seized my chance. “And did you fuss over the gentleman whose room you showed us?”
    “Well, bless you, my dear, I did. Such a thoughtful young man was Mr. Fox. Mind you, I didn’t much care for him coming in all hours as he used to do. Far too much coming and going, and that’s a fact. But he was never once late with his rent and never disturbed the others with noise or bad language. I shall miss him, and there’s no doubt about that.”
    I waited until Mrs. Webb had poured out another cup of tea before picking up the thread of her inquiry. “Why did your nice Mr. Fox leave? I shouldn’t think any tenant would want to leave this house unless he had to.”
    Mrs. Webb beamed at me. “Bless you, dear, but it’s a fact my tenants stay far longer than those next door at Mrs. Campbell’s.” She lowered her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “Tinned sauce on her puddings,” she murmured, shaking her head. “But you are quite right about Mr. Fox. He had to leave us, and it was a sad day for me when he did.”
    I accepted another slice of sponge, thinking it was a wonder Sebastian hadn’t been fat as a tick with eating Mrs. Webb’s cooking. “Business, I suppose?” I asked casually.
    “Indeed. Mr. Fox is a scholar, you see. Biblical texts and so forth. It was all quite over my head. I asked him once about his work, and I don’t mind to tell you, the explanation he gave was more than I needed to hear. Quite too much for me to understand! But he