“We’ll just have to hope that idiot Northcott and his inept bobbies can find this killer and put him behind bars before the rest of our guest list evaporates.”

Feeling a glimmer of hope, Cecily turned to face him. “He could certainly use some help, don’t you think?”

Baxter’s frown deepened. “I hope you’re not contemplating what I suspect you are contemplating.”

Cecily approached him, hands held out in appeal. “Bax, darling, I know I gave you my solemn promise, but this is an emergency. If we don’t catch this killer soon, more of our guests may decide it would be safer to stay in London for the Christmas season. What if our special guest were to cancel? We’d never live down the scandal.”

“He’s a prominent London citizen. He can’t afford to be perceived a coward.”

“He could find some feasible excuse, I’m sure. We simply cannot sit by and do nothing.”

“By we, I assume you mean yourself and that traitorous stable manager, Samuel.”

Cecily smiled. “Actually, I was rather hoping you would contribute your intelligent opinions and ideas.”

Baxter grunted. “You flatter me, my dear, but we both know I have no head for hunting down criminals. That takes a profound understanding of how those people’s minds work, and that is something for which you alone have an aptitude.”

“Why, thank you, sir!” Pleased with the unexpected compliment, her cheeks warmed.

“The fact remains, however, that the purpose of your promise to me was to keep you out of jeopardy, since you have a propensity to dive into danger without the slightest regard for your safety.”

“If I swear to use extreme caution this time?”

He raised an eyebrow at her. “When has that ever happened?”

“Please, darling.” She caught his hand and held it. “Our entire Christmas season is in jeopardy. At least this time I will have the sanction of the constabulary. Sam Northcott will be close at hand should there be any sign of peril.”