Stop thinking about your nerves. There is work to be done.

She drew a deep breath and called upon her mesmeric training to push aside the disturbing thoughts.

She walked along a weedy gravel path and stopped beside Aspasia Gray.

“I got your message,” she said.

“Thank you for meeting me,” Aspasia said in a subdued voice. “I realize that this is not the most cheerful location for a conversation.

“Indeed, I hope you will not conclude that I am generally inclined toward melodrama. But I wanted to impress upon you something that I feel you have not fully comprehended.”

“What is that?”

“I know you believe that I have designs on Tobias, but that is not the case.” Aspasia looked down at the gravestone. “There is only one man whom I have ever loved or ever will love, and he lies here.”

Lavinia glanced at the simple inscription on the gray stone.

Zachary Elland. Died 1815. A draft of cold wind seemed to whisper in the dead leaves that covered the grave.

“I see,” she said neutrally.

“We did not know the date of his birth, so we decided to leave it off the stone.” Aspasia gazed fixedly at the granite. “We discovered too late that there was a great deal we did not know about Zachary.”

“We?”

“Tobias and I. We handled the arrangements together. There was no one else, you see.” Aspasia paused. “We were the only ones who bothered to attend the funeral.”

“I understand.”

“Tobias and I shared much together because of Zachary. But we were never intimate. I want you to know that.”

“I am already aware of that fact. Tobias told me.”

Aspasia smiled slightly, knowingly. “And you believe him because you love him and trust him.”

“Yes.”

“That is how I felt about Zachary, you know.

“I assumed as much. I am very sorry, Aspasia.”

Aspasia returned her attention to the gravestone. “When I first met Zachary, I had no plans to fall in love, let alone commit myself to marriage. I learned my lessons early on, you see.”

“What do you mean?”

“My father was an exceedingly cruel man. He made my mother’s life a hell on earth. Eventually she took an overdose of laudanum to escape. But there was no way out for me. I was forced to suffer his rages and, worse, his unnatural advances until I was sixteen. At that time he contracted a marriage for me. I did not object, even though my husband was many years older. I thought I had been rescued, you see.”

Lavinia said nothing, but it seemed to her that the dead leaves on top of the grave whispered more loudly. She sensed that Aspasia was speaking the truth.

“Instead, I found myself in another kind of hell. My husband was as vicious and cold as my father. It was my great good fortune that he was shot dead by a highwayman one night as he rode home from

“London. My father died of a fever a short time later.”

“There is no need to talk about these things to me, Aspasia. I know they must be very painful to you.”

“Yes. So exceedingly painful that I have never spoken of them with anyone other than Zachary. I never even told Tobias. But I want you to understand. At seventeen I found myself alone in the world and in command of a substantial fortune. I made up my mind that I would never again allow any man to control my destiny.”

“I know how you must have felt,” Lavinia said quietly.

“I was twenty-five when I met Zachary. I had become a woman of the world. I had taken lovers, but I had never loved. I certainly never imagined for one moment that I could be fooled by a man. But all of my fine plans and convictions flew out the window when I lost my heart to Zachary.”

The dead leaves skittered as though stirred by skeletal fingers.

“I can only imagine what it must have been like for you when you realized that you were engaged to a man who made a career of murder,” Lavinia said. “What caused you to realize his true nature?”

“It was not one single thing that aroused my suspicion. Rather, it was several tiny little events that eventually wove themselves into a pattern I could no longer ignore.”

“What sort of events?”

“There was his obsessive interest in Tobias’s inquiries into the mysterious murders, for one thing. And his comings and goings at odd hours. Zachary always had an excellent, entirely reasonable explanation for his occasional disappearances. But one day, quite by accident, I learned that he had lied to me about where he had been the previous evening. As it happened, it was a night when the Memento-Mori Man had struck.”

“Was that when you realized he might be the killer?”

“No.” Aspasia linked her fingers. “To be honest, I prepared myself for the possibility that Zachary had betrayed me with another woman. I thought my heart would shatter. I had to know the truth.”

“What did you do?”

“He had a safe. I reasoned that if he had any secrets they would be hidden inside. He always kept the key on his person. But one night after we had made love, he fell asleep. I seized the opportunity to make a wax copy of the key. A few evenings later I found an opportunity to go into his study. I opened the safe.” Aspasia grimaced. “I’m sure you can imagine my relief when the first thing I saw was a journal of accounts.”

“What made you realize that the journal was no ordinary record of business transactions?”

“I grew curious when I realized that it was not a journal of household expenses such as many gentlemen keep. Rather, it was a list of dates and fees. It looked like a tradesman’s book of accounts. But that made no sense.”

“Because Zachary Elland was a gentleman?”

“Precisely. He did not operate a business. I told myself that it was a record of his wins at the gaming tables. But I soon realized that the dates of the so-called transactions matched some of the information concerning the deaths that Tobias was investigating.”

“You knew about the details of his inquiries?”

“Of course.” Aspasia sighed. “Tobias sat up many a night discussing the murders with Zachary. I was with them on several of those occasions. I even offered my own opinions. Tobias is one of those rare men who actually listens when a woman has something to say, as I’m sure you know. Zachary shared that trait. It was one of the many things that I loved about him.”

“What happened after you found the journal?”

“I discovered the small casket of memento-mori rings at the back of the safe.” Aspasia’s voice dropped to a tortured whisper. “I could not believe my own eyes. I went straight to Tobias with the journal. I wanted him to tell me that I had got it all wrong. But I think I knew, deep in my heart, that all was lost. When Zachary found the open safe with the journal gone, he realized that his secrets had been stolen.”

“He put a pistol to his head.”

Aspasia’s mouth twisted. “They say it is a gentleman’s way out. I suppose that it is, indeed, a better end than the gallows.”

It was all so dreadfully tragic, Lavinia thought. After years of shielding herself from the pain men had caused her, Aspasia had fallen for a cold-blooded murderer.

“My condolences on your loss,” Lavinia said eventually.

“Forgive me.” Aspasia blinked away the moisture that glittered in her eyes. “I just wanted you to know that Tobias is quite safe from me. Even if I did think to seduce him, it would not be possible. It is obvious that he loves you. As for me, I will never take the risk of giving my heart to any man again.”

Lavinia could think of nothing to say to that, so she held her tongue.

“Good day, Lavinia. I wish you joy with Tobias. He is a fine man.

“I envy you, but not even for him would I trade places with you.”

Aspasia turned and walked swiftly away along the path. Lavinia watched her go out through the iron gates that guarded the entrance to the cemetery.

She stood alone at Zachary Elland’s grave for a time and thought about the twists and turns of fate.