Pomeroy held up his forefinger. "And yet, not a few witnesses put him walking off alone with her several times during the evening, never mind escorting her in to supper. These same witnesses say they overheard quarrels between himself and Mr. Turner about Mrs. Harper. Besides"-Pomeroy played his trump card-"Colonel Brandon admitted to me that Imogene Harper was his mistress."

My mind whirled. "Pomeroy, this is astonishment on top of astonishment. I cannot credit it."

"It has much credit, sir, and 'twill be the colonel's debit, so to speak." He chuckled at his joke.

I stood still a moment, trying to take it all in. "Mrs. Brandon was at the ball with him, you say?"

"Aye. That she was."

"Did he admit this in front of her?"

Pomeroy nodded, losing his smile. "Aye, that he did. Mrs. Brandon refused to leave his side while I questioned him."

She would have insisted on staying, thinking it must all be a mistake. I imagined the blow of Brandon's admission striking her, her face whitening, her gray eyes growing moist with pain. I would wring Brandon's neck when I saw him.

"Where is Mrs. Brandon?" I asked sharply.

"Gone home."

"Alone?"

"No, sir. Her maid toddled off with her, and the Viscountess Breckenridge and Lady Aline Carrington."

Aline Carrington was Louisa's closest woman friend, and I was happy that the lady had chosen to take care of her. The addition of Lady Breckenridge surprised me. She was a young widow, friend to Lady Aline, but she'd not been acquainted with Louisa. Also, Lady Breckenridge was a woman about whose motives I was not always clear.

Pomeroy went on, "Mrs. Brandon told me to fetch you here."

"Mrs. Brandon is a wise woman."

"Aye, sir. I always obey when Mrs. Brandon gives orders."

"Good man."

I lifted the knife and held it between my palms, the point touching one hand and the handle touching the other. The knife told me little. The blade was slim and stained with blood. Neither blade nor hilt contained any markings or engravings. In itself, the knife indicated nothing.