"I received a letter from Horatio Welham." Lucifer settled his head back on the cushion. "It was delivered in London on Thursday. Horatio invited me to visit the Manor at my earliest convenience."

"So you were previously acquainted with Welham?"

"I've known Horatio for over nine years. I first met him when I was twenty, while staying with friends in the Lake District. Horatio introduced me to serious collecting. He was my mentor in that field and became a close, very trusted friend. Over the years, I frequently visited Horatio and his wife, Martha, at their house by Lake Windemere."

"Lake District, was it? Always wondered where Horatio hailed from. He never said and one didn't like to pry."

Lucifer hesitated, then said, "Horatio was deeply attached to Martha. When she died three years ago, he couldn't face living alone in the house they'd shared for so long. He sold up and moved south. Devon appealed because of the milder climate-he used to say he chose to move here because of his old bones and because he liked this village. He said it was small and comfortable." With no managing local mesdames. Lucifer glanced at Phyllida-how had Horatio viewed her?

Her eyes had grown dark. "No wonder he never spoke of his past. He must have been deeply in love with his Martha."

Lucifer inclined his head, then looked at Sir Jasper.

"Would any of Welham's servants know you?"

"I don't know who he kept on. Is Covey still with him?"

"Yes, indeed."

"Then he knows me, certainly." Lucifer frowned. "If Covey's here, why did the servants suspect me of killing Horatio? Covey knows how long I've known Horatio and the nature of our relationship."

"Covey wasn't here," Phyllida said. "He visits an old aunt in Musbury, a village nearby, every Sunday. By the time he returned, you were here at the Grange."

"Covey would be very cut up by Horatio's death."

Phyllida nodded.

Sir Jasper sighed. "No getting any sense out of him yesterday-I did try. Daresay he's still feeling it today."

"Covey was devoted to Horatio over all the years I knew them."

Sir Jasper threw Lucifer a shrewd glance. "Quite-no reason to suppose Covey knows anything about his master's death." He sat back. "Now, let's see. This is your first visit to Colyton?"

"Yes. Until now, matters never fell out suitably for a visit. Horatio and I discussed it, but… We met at least every three months, sometimes more frequently, in London and at collectors' gatherings around the country."

"So you're a collector, too?"

"I specialize in silver and jewelry. Horatio, on the other hand, was an acknowledged expert on antique books and a highly regarded authority in a number of other areas, too. He was an inspired teacher. It was an honor to have learned from him."

"Were there others who learned from him?"

"A few, but none who remained so closely in touch. The others took up collecting in Horatio's own spheres, and so became competitors of sorts."

"Could one of them have killed him?" Lucifer shook his head. "I can't imagine it."

"Other collectors? Jealous ones, perhaps?" Lucifer waved a negative. "Collectors might metaphorically kill for certain items, but few actually do. For most collectors, half the joy is displaying your acquisitions to other collectors. Horatio was highly respected and well liked among the fraternity; his collections were well known. Any item of his unexpectedly surfacing in someone else's collection would draw immediate attention. As a motive for murder, a known collector wanting to gain a particular piece is unlikely. We can, however, check for missing items, although it will take time. Horatio kept meticulous records."

Sir Jasper was frowning. "We knew Welham was a collector and dealer, but I, for one, had no notion he was so highly regarded." He glanced at Phyllida.

She shook her head. "We all knew he had visitors from outside-beyond the local area-but no one here knows much about antiques. We had no idea Horatio held such a prominent place in that sphere."

"I think," Lucifer said, "that that was part of the attraction of Colyton. Horatio liked being 'one of the locals.'"

Sir Jasper nodded. "Now you mention it, he became 'one of us' very quickly. Hard to believe it's only been three years. He bought the Manor and rebuilt and refurbished it. He put in that garden-his pride, it was. Used to potter in it for hours-his success turned some of the local ladies green. He always did all he could-went to church every Sunday, helped out in many ways." Sir Jasper paused, then quietly concluded, "He'll be missed."

They sat silently for a moment, then Lucifer asked, "If he always went to church, why was he at home yesterday? I hadn't sent word I was coming."

"He was ill," Phyllida said. "A bad cold. He insisted the others go as usual, and that Covey was not to disappoint his aunt. Mrs. Hemmings said she left him reading upstairs."

"So"-Sir Jasper shifted in his chair-"let's recount what happened as we know it. You arrived on a social visit-"

"That's not quite true-or not all of the truth. I left Horatio's letter in Somerset, so you'll have to bear with my paraphrasing, but he specifically asked me to visit because he wanted my opinion on some item he'd discovered. He was obviously excited by it-the impression I received was that it was a wholly unexpected find. The inference was that he personally felt sure the item was authentic, but wanted a second opinion."

"Any idea what this item was?"

"No. The only thing I can be sure of is that it wasn't silver or jewelry."

"But those are your specialties."

"Yes, but Horatio wrote that if the item was authentic, it might even tempt me to expand my collection beyond silver and jewelry."

"So it was a desirable piece?"

"My interpretation was that it was desirable and valuable. The fact that Horatio asked me to appraise something not in my area of expertise, when he could easily have invited the opinion of any of the established collectors of whatever type of collectible it is, suggests that the item was one of those finds that no sane collector tells anyone he has until he's established ownership and perhaps arranged greater security. Horatio might have been old, but he was still very sharp."

"But he told you-why not others?"

Lucifer met Phyllida's dark gaze. "Because for various reasons, among them our long friendship, Horatio knew he'd be safe telling me. Indeed, I might be the only one he mentioned the item to at all."

"Would Covey know of it?"

"Unless his duties have changed, I doubt it. Covey helped Horatio with arrangements and correspondence but was never involved with the actual dealing or assessing."

Sir Jasper mulled over their words. "So you came here to meet with Horatio and view this new item of his." He looked at Lucifer, who nodded. "You drove into the village…?"

Lucifer leaned back, his gaze fixed above Phyllida's head. "I passed no one on the road, nor did I see anyone about. I turned into the drive…" Simply and succinctly, he described his movements. "And then someone hit me over the head and I collapsed beside Horatio."

"You were hit with an old halberd," Sir Jasper said. "Nasty weapon-you're lucky not to have died."

Lucifer lowered his gaze to Phyllida's calm face. "Indeed."

"This letter knife Horatio was stabbed with-do you recall it?"

"It was his-Louis Quinze-he'd had it for years."

"Hmm-so that's not this special item." Sir Jasper kept his gaze on his boots. "So as things stand, you have no idea who might have killed Welham?"

Phyllida stared into deep blue eyes and prayed her welling panic didn't show. It hadn't occurred to her, not until he started recounting his movements, that, in truth, Lucifer held her in the palm of his hand. If he told her father that someone had been there after the murderer had struck, and that he was convinced-no, he knew-that that person was she…

Her father would instantly know she'd lied-not by act but by omission. He'd realize her uncharacteristic surrender to a headache last Sunday morning had been a ruse, that it would be easy for her to cut through the wood and reach the Manor without being seen. That she'd known no one else should have been in the house.

What he wouldn't understand was why-why she'd done it and then so deceitfully kept silent. And that was the one thing she couldn't tell him, couldn't yet explain-not until she was released from her oath.

The dark blue gaze never wavered. "No."

She breathed shallowly and waited, knowing he knew, knowing he was debating whether or not to expose her. To her father, one of the few people whose good opinion mattered to her.

Time slowed. As if from a distance, she heard her father ask the fateful question, the one she'd realized he would eventually ask. "And there's nothing else bearing on this matter you can tell me?"

Lucifer's eyes held hers steadily. Giddiness threatened.

It suddenly occurred to her to consider the next step: What if he didn't tell?

"No."

She blinked.

He held her gaze for an instant longer, then glanced at her father. "I have no notion who killed Horatio, but, with your permission, I intend to find out."

"Indeed, indeed." Her father nodded. "Commendable goal." He looked up, and frowned.

"Good gracious, Jasper!" Lady Huddlesford swept forward. "You've been interrogating Mr. Cynster for quite long enough. His poor head must be aching."

Lucifer rose, as did Sir Jasper.

"Nonsense, Margaret, we have to sort this matter out."