His eyes were cold and lifeless as he stared at me.

"You don't have any idea who I am, do you?"

I shook my head slightly, tugging at the skirt of my dress as my hands sweat through my gloves, looking from him to the door and back to him.

"No, I don't believe I do."

The tall strange man that had so unceremoniously dragged me into one of my noon parlors closed his eyes and let out a low breath of air, running his hands through his dark locks causing a tendril to drop onto his forehead. His dark eyes opened and landed on me again, making my breath hitch with the power of his stare.

"There's no time for that now. Something has happened."

I took a step back, the hairs on my arms standing on end. "Sir, may I kindly ask you to leave immediately. This is highly inappropriate and I have a house full of guests to attend to."

My mystery took another step forward, backing me against the fireplace mantle. "I'm sorry Lady Farris, but not all your guests are accounted for."

My eyes narrowed. "Come again?"

Suddenly the room exploded with light and sounds as three of my serving girls came rushing in, all of them holding candlesticks that illuminated their frightened faces.

"Miz Far, Miz Far!" Chanted Izobel, the youngest of the servants.

She came up to me, ignoring the obviously surprised man who gratefully made some room for the girls. The two other servants, sisters Phoebe and Alice, flanked Izobel, their dark skin flickering gold in the candlelight, their eye wide and mirroring the cold fear I couldn't help but feel the moment they came rushing in.

I reached out, grasping Izobel's shoulders, angling my face to look her in the eyes as she gathered her breath.

"What is it, Izzy? I trust you have a good reason to frighten me so."

Izobel's big brown eyes stared back at me, slowly brimming with tears.

"Body," she whispered.

I stood up straight. "Pardon me?"

Alice stepped forward, looking at her sister before she swallowed and elaborated.

"There is a body, in the Gold room."

"It's dead miss," Phoebe whispered.

Air whooshed from my lungs and I held Izobel a little tighter. I looked around the room, trying my best to ground myself before I started terrorizing the girls for details. Phoebe shifted her candlestick, her eyes flickering to the man whom I nearly all but forgotten about.

"Miss, what are we to do?"

I looked at the sweet girl then to her sister before I closed my eyes for a moment and took a deep breath. I directed Izobel to stand with the other two girls as I gently corralled them out of the room.

"Go find Mr. Blithely then have him close up the room. No one is to know of this other than the three of us, you girls understand?"

All three of them turned to look at me, their brown eyes having lost their frenzied fear but still slightly wide. In unison, they nodded, their dark curly hair that had come loose of their wraps bounced livelily. They were nearly dead when I found them being beaten half to death by some inhumane farmer, their eyes large from lack of proper nutrition and care. I vowed to make sure they never where to know the effects of such terrible situations again. But it seems I have failed them.

"Yes, ma'am."

I smiled at them with what I hoped was an encouraging smile. "Now off you go. Mr. Blithely will know what to do. Then go off to the kitchens and have Cook make some tea. Take a moment to calm your nerves before the evening entertainment is to start." The girls nodded, curtseyed and left, but I called out to them making them turn. "Oh! Do send Mr. Blithely to me in this room once he is finished."

Again they nodded and turned to go, but not before Phoebe again paused, her eyes looking over my shoulder for a moment before she followed after the other two. I clasped my hands in front of me and closed my eyes letting out a slow breath. I angled my head to the side but did not turn around.

"Please tell me this was what you wished to tell me," I barely spoke above a whisper.

I felt the man step forward, his breath on my neck. "Yes. Though I had hoped nobody would see him."

I turned to face him, stepping back at his closeness. "Him? Do you know who it was that now lies dead in his pool of blood that is no doubt running the floors?"

The man's lips twitched as he suppressed a smile. "You always did have an odd sense of humor when it came to stressful situations."

I narrowed my eyes but before I could press him further Mr. Blithely had arrived, his elderly form looking quite haggard as he rushed forward, his face pale yet flushed from his brisk walk to met me.

"Lady Farris, I came as quickly as I could."

I turned to him, placing a hand on his arm, alarmed to find myself shaking. I glanced at the stranger but he only nodded encouragingly. I swallowed before continuing.

"Did the girls find you?"

"Yes, ma'am. I have done as you asked them to relay to me." He let out a breath and shook his head, his gray hairs whispering with the action as he dabbed at his shining forehead with his yellowing kerchief. "I have never in all my days of service seen one so, pardon me m'lady, but so mutilated so. His head bashed right in."

I took a sharp breath of air, a hand coming to my mouth. The stranger took a step forward and placed a hand on m shoulder as he gave a pointed look to my butler.

"Mr. Blithely, can you attest to the whereabouts of all the nighttime servants?"

Mr. Blithely jumped as if just noticing the man standing there. "Who are you?" He looked to me as if I were to introduce him. But the stranger saved me from having to mumble my way through proper etiquette.

"Professor Kurt Plum. Now the servants? Do you know where all of them are?

My butler nodded as I mulled around my no longer nameless guest, finding it not to register in any known acquaintances whom I have met in the two years I have lived in America.

Mr. Blithely nodded though he did not look too sure of himself. "Yes, yes, I believe I know where they all are."

The Professor, though he did not specify from where, nodded, his hand moving to cup my elbow, holding me gently as he started for the kitchens. "I suggest you gather them together in the kitchens. We need to know everything they do about what has happened."

I prayed my arm out of his grasp and turned to him, clasping my hands in front of me to keep them from shaking. "Thank you, Professor, but I believe this is my house and I shall be the one giving the orders."

Professor Plum nodded solemnly, his lone curl of dark hair falling further into his face causing him to flick back his head slightly, righting its position perfectly. "Might I suggest you gather your servants."

I nodded slowly, turning back to Mr. Blithely. "Please gather all the servants. And wake the others too. I shan't have any of my staff be absent or give reason to be suspected."

Mr. Blithely blinked. "Even the servants in the party rooms?"

I nodded, clenching my jaw a few times. "Yes. They may know of whom has been in and out of the main rooms."

"Then who will watch and help the guests?"

I looked to Prof. Plum, before answering. "Perhaps call them in once we have spoken with the other's first. Then that way they can just switch places once we are in need of them."

That appeased the butler, sending him off to collect the servants, his worried mumbling echoing softly in the great halls.

I straightened my shoulders and turned to the Professor, inclining my head slightly as to keep as much of an air of importance as I could muster what with a dead body in my house just a few walls away from some of the most esteemed members of society. However one of them may be a murderer. I started walking forward, toward the kitchens though I kept my pace slow.

"Professor I suggest you start telling me more about yourself and how it is you came upon my party and my dead guest."

Professor Plum shook his head. "That can wait, about the dead body I mean. But I don't suppose it would hurt to tell you how it is I have tracked you down from all those years ago."

I shook my head slightly. "I do not follow."

He smiled, but only just and only for a moment, but it was long enough for me to firmly know he was decidedly handsome when not scrolling all the time. "I find it hard to believe you would forget taking a course under the invigorating Hemingway and Wilder."

I paused, my eyes growing wide. I turned to the Professor and looked, really looked at him. His tall stature, broad shoulders, dark hair and dark eyes, the wrinkles by his eyes from laughter that no doubt was once in abundance was now a rarity. There was a scar on his chin, white and thin but only noticeable when he spoke. He wore all black, even his undershirts being as dark as the night making it fairly easy to lose him in the dim hallways or mistake him as a mourning ghoul. But he was young, only a few years older than myself, that making it hard to believe he was already well educated enough to earn the title of Professor. He had freckles too, but only if one would really care to look would they see them.

I looked into his eyes and paused. Suddenly I started imagining him nearly ten, no, twelve years younger. My eyes slowly grew as my chest shook with anticipation. Without asking pardon, I reached out and took his left hand, unlatching his sleeves and pulling it up until it reached his elbow. I traced my fingers over the scars of the whips and wooden sticks that the teachers had used on us for disciplinary actions. My fingers trailed all the way down to his fingers where he wrapped them around my fingers, making me look up at him.

"Evan?" I whispered, my childhood friend and schoolmate suddenly becoming familiar to me again.

"Hello, Dredy," he replied, smiling once again, the change it made to his stoic face making my cheeks warm.

"You know I hated that nickname."

Evan chuckled softly, reaching up to gently tug a lock of my blond hair. "Far better than Mildred from what I remembered."

"All because you refused to call me Milly."

He scrunched his nose. "It still sounds far too much like a cow's name."

I smiled. "Then I truly do wonder why you didn't agree to it."

"Cows are far too dignified to deserve such poor association. Though I suppose the pigs wouldn't mind. Milly would suit a pig would it not?"

I bit back a laugh, though a few childish giggles escaped as I swatted at his arm, taking my hands out of his. "You haven't changed a bit." I sobered intimately, my face screwing in confusion. "Why is it you came in all mysterious like? I only moved back to England, not died. So why now of all instances do you show yourself and so frighteningly so, when I have been here for two years. Why haven't you come to see me? Was my move back home so terrible to have ruined our friendship? I did write..."

Evan stepped forward, placing a hand on my cheek as he spoke, his eyes in earnest. "Do not think for one moment that any of this," he gestured to the part of the house where the Gold room was, "or the distance between us was ever your fault. Never. It just so happened that you left the moment I chose a different path in my schooling."

"Why the name change? Why the secrets?"

"Evan is actually my middle name. And I truly am a professor, but not for any sort of curriculum you would be familiar with."

I narrowed my eyes, my mind piecing things together. "Your letters were so vague that I feared I was boring you. Suddenly they altogether stopped. I feared you either hated me or had perished in some freak accident during one of your dangerous experiments. But...you knew there was a dead body here, far before my servants found him. You were looking for it." I took a step back, needing a moment to catch my breath from standing so close to him. "You knew someone was going to die tonight."

Evan reached out for me but I waved him away, my chest feeling tight and my head feeling light. I stumbled as I walked away from him, wanting more distance. I ignored his pleas to come back to him, to sit down or be careful. My vision swam as I tried to make sense of everything.

But I just couldn't. I was too distraught.

So I did what I knew I was best at. Compartmentalization.

I learned to do it when my parents sent me to school in America then again when I was sent back home. I learned to segment my mind and feelings while the other children excluded me or when a certain boy picked on me. I nearly broke when I had to do it again when his letters stopped coming. The most recent time I had to do it again was when I moved back to America to take over my father's job and title he had left me, tearing me away from my home once more back to a place where I couldn't be my full self.

Now it was time to leave Professor Kurt Evans Plum and focus on my guests and the dead man in my house.

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, my hand pressed against my chest as I leaned against a wall for support. I felt him near me before I heard him, my skin becoming gooseflesh. I took another deep breath then opened my eyes, steeling myself away to address my muddled mind later. I turned and locked eyes with Evan, squaring my shoulders as I stood.

"Professor if you would be so kind as to follow me, I have a kitchen full of worried servants to sooth and a room of guests to address."

~~~~

Evan had to remind himself how to walk as Mildred Farris, the once peaky little girl he so endlessly tested what felt like decades ago, walked down the halls with so much air and authority he could have easily mistaken her for the queen, whom he has met and found to be the wrong person in charge of England with Ms. Farris leading as she was.

He wanted to know everything. He wanted to sit down and talk endlessly about her life and what she had been up to since the moment she moved away and he had stopped writing to her. He ached to see her smile without the burden of a dead body looming over her. He wanted to know if she was alright.

But most of all, Evan wanted to know if she was happy.

However, before he could even open his mouth to ask any sort of personal question, Mildred was already talking, filling the tense air with her voice to calm her tangible worry.

"Kurt Plum. Is that even your real name?"

Evan nearly laughed. "Yes. Evan is my middle name. And I went by my mother's maiden name, Rolland. I took my father's last name once I became a Professor."

"Before or after you joined your secret job?"

Evan tried not to wince at the hurt in her voice. "After. They didn't want people to track me by my childhood name."

"A built-in alias. That's...convenient."

Evan raised a shoulder as he opened one of the kitchen doors for her. "I suppose."

Mildred paused before crossing the threshold, the voices of about fifteen people reaching their ears. Her shoulders slumped a moment but before Evan could offer some words of encouragement, she had taken a deep breath, threw back her shoulders and lifted her chin. With strong and sure steps she entered the kitchens, the voices coming to a stop as the two of them stood before the small group.

"I am so very sorry to cause a fuss but there seems to have been an incident," Mildred said, her voice strong, void of all the worry and fear that soaked her words not moments before. "And for those of you who were just woken up, do understand that you will be fully compensated."

A young girl from before, in the parlor, stepped forward, her eyes still as frightened as before. He could imagine the horrors of walking in on a dead body would not leave the mind so quickly as of just a few hours. Her hands shook as she wrung them in front of her.

"Miz. Far, you being sure he is truly dead?"

Mildred nodded once, but her eyes were kind. "Yes, Izzy. I am so very sorry you girls had to be the ones to find him."

Another one of the girls who matched her in skin color and height though she looked to be much older, took a step forward but stopped mid-step when she eyed Evan. A serving boy that was leaning by the sinks pushed off and stepped up next to her, taking her hand discreetly. Though Evan could clearly see he was trying to protect her from him if anything.

"Lady Farris, I don't believe he was killed there."

Mildred raised a brow. "Oh?" She looked around the room then nodded to the cook.

"Please continue doing what it is you need to have done but I will need to speak to everyone who has been around the guests." She rubbed her brow before looking to Mr. Blithely who was standing in the corner. "Do you happen to know who he is?"

Mr. Blithely shook his head, but the girl who was holding the boy's hand nodded to Evan, making him raise his brows.

"I believe he does miss."

Mildred turned to look at Evan, her brows furrowed. "Is Phoebe right? You know who is lying dead in my Gold room?"

Evan cleared his throat but nodded. "He was a great man and a very close friend. Mr. J. T. Boddy. He was the reason I was sent here in the first place." Evan made a point to look at the frightened serving girls with kind eyes. "I am not the one who killed him. You can trust me."

Phoebe stepped closer to the boy next to her. "Only if Lady Farris does."

All eyes turned to Mildred but she only smiled, glancing at Evan quickly before addressing the others. "He was with me the whole time. I can hardly imagine he could kill the man then rush downstairs to speak to me, cleaned of all signs of a struggle."

The room made a collective sigh, shoulders sagging and the air thinning of suspicion. Evan had to keep from smiling, admiring their trust in Mildred and her judgment. The sound of scraping drew everyone's attention to a serving boy dragging two chairs into the kitchen, his face growing red.

"Sorry, I thought you might like to sit. I don't think this will be over anytime soon."

Mildred smiled gratefully, taking one of the chairs and sitting down, patting the boy's hand. "Thank you, Caleb." She looked to Evan, nodding to the other chiar to which he gratefully sat, "We are going to ask a series of questions and I want you to be as honest as you can be. Please." she looked at all of them in the eyes, her look pleasing yet apologetic at the same time. "I do not mean to disturb you all but there is a killer in that ballroom and I cannot let them hurt anyone else, let alone leave."

The boy holding Phoebe's hand raised his voice. "What of the others keeping an eye on the guests?"

Mildred nodded. "That is why I woke the rest of you. You are to switch places with them since you have no knowledge of what has happened." She looked at the two blond girls standing to her right. "Sarah and Melonie, you are to change into your best dresses and entertain the guests. I will present you in a moment."

The two girls curtsied, then rushed off as Mildred reached over, placing a hand on Evan's that rested on his knee. "As I see to my guests, please answer every and all questions Evan will be asking. I hope that before the night is out, we will have an idea as to who has done this and get them locked away."

Mr. Blithely stepped forward, handing Evan a stack of parchment, an inkwell, and a pen. "You have a use for these."

Evan nodded, taking the supplies. "Thank you." He then turned to the rest of the servants, his eyes drifting to Mildred. She nodded, smiling tightly. "Well," he cleared his throat, "let us start with the ones who found the body of Mr. Boddy."

~~~~~~

I placed my hands on Sarah and Maloney's shoulders as I gave them comforting smiles. "I am sure you never once thought yourselves to be entertaining a room full of rich and self-assured guests."

Sarah gave me a tight smile, placing a hand on mine. "Don't worry yourself, Lady Farris. Find the one who did this. We have been practicing, despite your direction."

I laughed lightly hugging them one at a time. "I shall never represent you for your practicing again."

"How long do you need us to distract them?" Melonie asked, her blue eyes slightly worried.

"A couple of hours. I will be sure to send up one of the boys to check on you." I took a fortifying breath and nodded to the door that lead to all the guests. "Have courage, girls. You will do magnificently."

I opened the doors and entered the busy rooms, all voices died down as we drew their attention. Many smiled and treated us kindly as other glowered and mumbled about terrible hospitality. I curtseyed and the girls did the same.

"Ladies and Gentlemen pardon my absence but I was only getting your entertainment prepared." I gestured to Sarah and Melanie, "Allow me to introduce Sarah and Melanie, children of some a distant cousin of mine. They excel at the piano and singing."

Many voices lifted in awe and interest, making me smile. The girls made their way to the back of the room where the instruments were stored. I lowered my voice as we walked.

"Do keep an eye on those that come and go. If anyone leaves the room at any time, send down one of the boys. Ian and Caleb will replace Michael and Les."

The girls nodded, the resolution on their faces making me swell with pride. I turned to the guests and mingled as the music was being prepared. Only now have I ever been exceedingly thankful that I was born among the throngs of the rich. With a few smartly placed phrases and lathered compliments my absence was forgotten and forgiven.

It wasn't until the third song started did I excuse myself to see to the evening snacking foods to be brought up. Though that was partly true I was desperate to know what it was that Evan had pieced together. I nodded to Caleb and Ian as they tended to the guests, their gazes flickering around the room and on the girls. They nodded back, sending me small smiles of reassurance.

The voices in the kitchen were low so I took a moment to catch my breath before I entered. The kitchen was busy but Izzy, Phoebe, Alice, Les, and Michael were sitting around the servant's table, Evan with his outer coat off and his hair ruffled where I was sure he had run his hands through numerous times. I spoke to Cook thanking her endlessly for her quick thinking and working tirelessly.

I approached the group slowly, not wanting to frighten them. Alice saw me first standing quickly, curtseying.

"M'Lady."

I smiled, nodding to the others as they stood. "Please, continue."

Evan stood and pulled back a chair for me, resting a hand on my shoulder as he leaned in. "We may have a list of suspects and a possible room. It's a toss-up between the Conservatory and the Study. No weapon yet."

I nodded, looking up at him. "Thank you."

And here we sat, thinking and going over all that we knew.

Mr. Blithely was able to give a detailed description of Mr. Boddy and how he may have died. I did not wish to go up and see it so I did not mind being told. Izzy noted that there were three individuals who had gone upstairs while she was on her rounds.

Col. Mustard, Mrs. Peacock, and Ms. White.

Les noted that he saw a Ms. Scarlet and a Mr. Green leave the party on two separate occasions.

Phoebe shook her head, her eyes staring at the table.

"We are not any closer than we were five minutes ago."

Evan shook his head. "Not necessarily. With these names, I can then list out what I know about them and what motive they would have to kill Mr. Boddy."

Les's eyes grew wide. "All those people have a motive?"

Evan glanced at me and my heart dropped as he continued. "Yes. Very solid and very real reasons."

He sat back and ran his hands through his hair, sighing before he explained. "Ms. White was once a servant, very much like you. But over time she stole enough goods to buy herself to the top. With proper investments and making the right friends, she made herself a name. Mr. Boddy was in charge of keeping records of her spendings.

"Col. Mustard lead over a hundred men to their deaths after a night of poor decisions that involve drinking. Among the lives lost was Mr. Boddy's closest nephew.

"Mrs. Peacock, if you haven't known already, is heavily entangled with the politics of the area. She beat Mr. Boddy at a campaign some years back but only recently has evidence been found that she was not very honest. No surprise there. But threats against Mr. Boddy's life are not to be taken lightly when he also holds the interest of the President of the United States.

"Then there is Mistress Scarlet. She creates scandal wherever she goes. And it only ever benefits her. That is until one time she tried to seduce Mr. Boddy, swindling money and causing trouble. At the same time, he learned the names of all the men she had coursed, a black book if you will.

"Lastly is Mr. Green. He may seem like a devoted religious man but he wasn't always. His mobster ways are coming back to haunt him as he starts being too harsh on his congregation, terrorizing them into attending church and paying alms to the church."

Evan shrugged as he leaned over the various papers strewn around the table, blotted and scribbled with failed ideas and theories.

I looked over them, then at the young ones around me. "I am very impressed you have come up with this much. What of the rooms? Conservatory or the Study?"

Phoebe nodded. "I went back through the house to see if there were any other rooms that may have evidence of blood. The conservatory looked trashed in some areas but it was the Study that had me worried. Izzy wouldn't enter with me but I am sure the room lingered with the smell of blood." She shook her head. "Thankfully I can say I am not fully familiar with the smell."

Evan gave her a kind smile. "Thank you, Phoebe. So let us say it is the Study-"

"Wait! I know it is the study. I served a plate of drinks to that room. A man wearing yellow called me in skiing for four drinks," Michael interjected after being quiet.

My brows rose. "Oh? Did you happen to get a good look at their faces."

Michael shook his head. "No, but I do know one of them was a woman. She was laughing when I left them their drinks."

Evan wrote that down. "I think it is safe to say that the Study was where Mr. Boddy was killed."

Alice raised a small hand. "How did his body end up in an upstairs parlor room? Not even a single strong man could carry up his body that far."

I agreed. "Perhaps there was more than one murderer."

"Or one murderer and an accomplice," Les said with a bit too much awe that I couldn't help but smile.

But Evan seemed to like that idea. "That may be plausible." He reached out for another sheet of paper and started writing as he spoke. "The Study had four people. The blunt force trauma could have been done by anyone with the right weapon."

I let out a breath. "Do you think that-"

Suddenly there was a scream from the kitchens making all of us jump. Evan placed a hand on my arm, pulling me close to him as we all stood. Cook rushed in, her eyes wide and her face red.

"No! No, no, no, I will not have this-this mess brought into my kitchen."

I placed a hand on Evan's chest shaking my head. "Speak slowly Cook, I do not understand."

Cook stepped back and pointed to the doorway her hands shaking. A little delivery boy rushed in, his hands all bloodied and his face pale.

His voice was quiet but I could hear him clearly. "I found this..."

Cook spoke for him. "I had him go into the cellar to grab a few bottles of wine. He returned with this instead."

I closed my eyes and buried my face in Evan's chest. I felt his arm go around my shoulders and hold me to him. Alice screamed, Les gasped, Michael remained quiet, but Phoebe spoke.

"A candlestick..."

"I believe we have found our weapon," Evan signed as he rubbed my back the image of the blood splattered device burned into my brain, a part of Mr. Boddy I was sure was stuck to its silver details that would no doubt be stained for years to come.