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must place herself in Newgate for poisoning of her first husband; and then it was Lord Harold’s nephew, the one who shall inherit the Dukedom. Not to mention French spies. I should not be surprised to learn that Jane has taken up with Whigs,” she added darkly, as though this was tantamount to running naked through the streets, “and no respectable man will have her
then
.”
    “Lord Harold?” my cousin enquired, with a faint line between his brows. The allusion to the fifth Duke of Wilborough’s second son was lost upon him.
    “Well you may look shocked,” my mother retorted, with a triumphant air. “You see, Jane, how that man’s reputation has preceded him? Even in the rectories of Staffordshire, his name is uttered with dread!”
    At this juncture the serving girl put in her appearance, bearing high a covered tureen. All discourse was naturally suspended some moments. Sally laid the cloth, set out the various dishes, and waited until we should be seated. When she had served us all, I gave her leaveto quit the parlour. Left to himself, I believe my cousin should never have considered of it. He appeared insensible to everything but a brown stain upon the tablecloth, which he studied earnestly. His plate he left untouched.
    Cassandra sent me a look of mute enquiry. I lifted my shoulders a fraction in dismay. My mother continued to talk of her late husband—of students long absent from our lives, and the disproportionate fortunes of their patrons—of her youth in Oxford, and her uncle Theophilus Leigh, the Master of Balliol College, who was renowned for his wit. When at length she had drawn breath to repeat one of the Master’s most cherished aphorisms, I hastily intervened.
    “Was the Coroner able to put a name to that unfortunate young man, Cousin?”
    “Eh?” Mr. Cooper came to his senses with a start. “What young man?”
    “The one I discovered murdered this morning,” I reminded him gently.
    Cassandra’s expression of concern had deepened; her gaze was fixed anxiously on Mr. Cooper. She appeared ready to leap to his aid in the instant, should he fall into a swoon.
    “I suppose there is no harm in relating the intelligence,” Mr. Cooper conceded heavily, “and, indeed, it will be on every tradesman’s lips by morning. I shudder to think what my esteemed and noble patron, Sir George Mumps, will say when he learns of the affair.”
    We waited in some suspense.
    His eyes came up to meet my own, with a look of profound confusion. “The corpse of Miller’s Dale was not that of a gentleman, Jane, but one who had borrowed a gentleman’s clothes.”
    “An imposter?” I enquired. “The matter gains in interest.”
    “And delicacy,” Mr. Cooper added. “For no one cansay what the poor girl was about, or who might have used her so foully.”
    I stood up abruptly and thrust back my chair. “Would you tell me that the young man so savagely murdered this morning—”
    “Was, in fact, a woman,” my cousin said.

Against Disorders of the Head
     
    hop two ounces of wild Valerian Root, and add to it an ounce of freshly-gathered Sage. Pour over two quarts of boiling water, and let stand till it be cold. Strain off the water, and give the Sufferer a quarter of a pint, twice each day.
    This is most useful against Giddiness and Pains, and all disorders of the Head, especially Nervous Cases.
    —
From the Stillroom Book
of Tess Arnold,
Penfolds Hall, Derbyshire
,
1802–1806

Chapter 4
The Witch of Penfolds Hall
     
    26 August 1806, cont.
∼
    “B UT HOW EXTRAORDINARY !” I CRIED . “C AN SUCH A thing be possible?”
    “It can, Cousin, and it is,” Mr. Cooper replied gloomily. “Mr. Tivey discovered the truth directly he examined the corpse. There is no denying that a woman’s body is very unlike to a man’s, you know, and furthermore, he recognised the girl at once. She is Bakewell born and bred.”
    “Indeed?” There had been elegance in her looks—that delicacy of feature, the cropped golden