As a pleasure jaunt, the prospect left something to be desired. It was bitterly cold, it would mean hours in an open carriage and then more hours in an open ruin of a castle. If the weather were well inclined, it might simply be frigid cold. Being England, it would probably rain as well. There was nothing like freezing rain to enhance a long drive in an open conveyance with a man who had been nicknamed for a vegetable.

Jane had said that Aunt Osborne was in Bath, part of a party come up from London for an assembly and a frost fair. It didn’t seem likely that there could be more than one of the latter. It wasn’t the most popular form of entertainment, for obvious reasons. If there was a frost fair, Aunt Osborne was sure to be in attendance.

Aunt Osborne and Captain Musgrave.

“Are you sure you wouldn’t mind having me along?” Arabella heard herself saying. “I wouldn’t want to be a bother.”

Mr. Fitzhugh shook his head emphatically. “You don’t know the first thing about being a bother. Takes years of practice to be a proper bother. Just ask Sal.”

“I heard that!” chimed in Sally, and turned back to her friends.

“See what I mean?” said Mr. Fitzhugh darkly.

“I don’t... ,” began Arabella.

Mr. Fitzhugh planted the palms of his hands on his knees and leaned forward beseechingly. “You can bear witness to Sal that I really did go to Farley Castle. It might stop her sneaking out in the middle of the night. I hope. Besides, we might find out who set the pudding thief on you.”

“Isn’t there one slight problem with that?” said Arabella. She hated to ruin their excitement, but there was one fatal flaw with the plan. “The message never reached its intended recipient. And whoever sent it knows it.” She should know. Her posterior still ached from the aftermath.

“Details, details,” said Sally airily. “Did you see what that message said? Most urgent. If it really is most urgent, she’ll find another way to get the message out. I know I would.”