"Rosie just turned sixteen. Our mother delivered Rosie two months early while visiting relatives in Scotland. Because of an early birth, Rosie was a sickly child, and so for the first five or six years, my parents kept Rosie living in Scotland as she was cared for by a nurse, and of course, my mother. When my mother died, Rosie was finally brought home. It was left up to the rest of us to try and raise her properly. When Rosie was twelve years old, our father died." He took a deep breath and expelled it slowly. "Needless to say, Rosie didn't get the attention she needed when she was a sick child, and we spoiled her when she came to live with us. We had a cook who took Rosie under her wing, but Mrs. Trumble wasn't a replacement for a mother."

"I understand." Madison nodded.

"Over the last few years, Rosie's temperament became uncontrollable. We shouldn't have spoiled her, but now it's too late for regrets." Licking his lips, he shifted in his stance. "She figured that she was a mature woman and that we should treat her as such. She began doing things Alice was doing, and Rosie kept trying to push to do more. I just could not control her."

Nervously, Madison flexed her hands. She figured she knew where he was going with this story, but she kept quiet and waited for him to finish.

"Not too long ago, Rosie met a man..." he trailed off, and his jaw hardened.

This was exactly what Madison had suspected.

"He was older than Rosie by nineteen years. Of course, there was no way I would permit him to court my sister. She was far too young." Mr. Westland scratched his neck as if he tried to loosen an invisible noose. "She had begged, pleaded, thrown tantrums, but naturally, I didn't change my mind."

"Naturally," Madison agreed.

"Exactly one week later, she disappeared."

Madison nodded. "Do you think she ran off with this man?"

"I do," Mr. Westland said softly. "My first thought was that they eloped to Gretna Greene."

"Yes, I would have wondered that, as well."

"I went there straight away, but I discovered they had never arrived. When I returned, I searched for the man who had wanted to court her, only to find that he hadn't seen Rosie in five days. Now, as each day passes, I fear that something might be wrong and that she is hurt or suffering."

"Of course, you would feel that way." She moved her hand out to touch his arm but quickly stopped herself before she made contact. She certainly didn't know him well enough to be so personal.

"I hesitate to tell Alice. If Rosie has run off with a man, a scandal will undoubtedly follow."

"Alice doesn't suspect at all?" Madison tilted her head, studying him closely. "Your sister seems like a woman who would figure that out for herself."

He shrugged. "I suppose so. It was no secret that Rosie was an accomplished flirt, but I don't want to worry Alice needlessly."

"Forgive me, Mr. Westland, but wouldn't it be worse wondering if someone has killed one's sister rather than knowing the sister actually ran off with a man?"

"You do have a point." He rubbed his forehead. "But I cannot have a scandal starting on speculation. I won't let it happen to my family again."

Perhaps it was none of her business, but she couldn't stop herself from asking. "Again?"

"Yes. The last year of my father's life, he caused quite a lot of gossip in town. He had completely lost his mind, and no matter what we did to keep him home, he always crept out of the house. Needless to say, everyone for miles around knew about our father." He took a deep breath. "I don't want another scandal to land on our doorstep."

"I understand."

"So, Miss Haywood," he said and cleared his throat again, "shall we proceed inside?"

"Yes, of course."

She walked next to him. Thankfully, he wasn't three inches closer, or her arm would have bumped into his. She didn't want to soften her mind toward him. After all, he was the one who thought that just because she was a woman that she wouldn't be able to help. Men who couldn't open their minds were not worth her time.

"How was your journey?" he asked.

"Fine." She swallowed hard. "I haven't been to Ilford since I was a very young girl."

He glanced at her and arched an eyebrow. "Really? How old were you?"

"Six."

He narrowed his gaze on her. "You look to be older than Alice."

She chuckled as heat rose to her cheeks. "I'm actually the same age."

His eyes widened in surprise. "Well...um, the town has had many changes since then."

She shrugged. "I'm certain it has, but I honestly have no recollection of what it looked like when I was here."

"That is a young age, so it's only natural that you cannot remember." They reached the front door, and he opened it for her. "But I hope you enjoy your stay."

Me, too. She especially hoped that she—and her gift—could help them.

When she stepped inside, she gasped in awe. The interior was just as breathtaking as the exterior. Colorful decorations beyond her imagination were in this room, and the furniture didn't even look as if it had been used. A grand staircase was against the far side of the entryway, stained with dark wood.

"My sister is waiting for you in the sitting room."

Madison nodded but didn't speak as she followed him. How could she talk when her eyes were getting their fill of these fine furnishings? No intelligent thoughts could enter her head,

When she stepped into the sitting room, Alice jumped up from the sofa and hurried to her. She clasped hands with Madison as if they were long-lost friends.

"I'm so thrilled you could come." Alice smiled as unshed tears swam in her eyes.

"And I'm also happy your brother allowed my visit." Madison peeked at Mr. Westland. "I thank you both for your warm welcome."

"Please," Alice tugged on Madison's hand, "sit with me on the sofa."

Madison followed and sat beside Alice.

"What a lovely day dress," the other woman exclaimed. "And this color of blue brings out your eyes beautifully." She swung her head toward her brother. "Don't you think so, Cam?"

"Uh, well..." He shuffled his feet. His stare didn't stay on Madison for very long. "Yes, Miss Haywood looks very lovely."

Warmth crept up Madison's neck, and she quickly shook off the awkward moment. She wasn't lovely in the least, and her eyes were certainly not beautiful. Because she rarely received compliments like this, she was willing to accept the fact that she was not an attractive woman. But really, that suited her just fine since she didn't want to stand out, anyway. It was bad enough that her gift made people gawk at her.

She shifted and focused back on the reason she was here. "Shall we get started in finding your sister?"

Alice nodded.

"Good. Then I'll need you to bring me an object that was personal in some way to Rosie. Maybe a brush or a shawl, or even her pillow."

"I'll fetch something for you." Alice flew from the sofa and rushed out of the room.

Mr. Westland stayed near the hearth, leaning against the wall. "I want to thank you for being so sweet with Alice. She has been through a lot lately, and she's one very emotional woman."

"Yes, I understand completely."

He moved toward her and stopped when he reached the sofa, but he didn't sit. "Please don't let her know what I think really happened to Rosie," he said in hushed tones.

"I will, but I honestly wonder if she suspects already. She's a bright woman." Madison glanced toward the doorway. "Perhaps that is why she has allowed this to affect her so deeply. What if she knows what happened but is afraid to admit it?"

A light chuckle rumbled in his throat. "Then she would share my fears more than I realized."

She met his sad eyes. Her heart wrenched. She'd dealt with many types of people over the years who'd accepted her gift, and although she sympathized with them, she could still share their pain.

Madison stood and faced Mr. Westland. He didn't move, even though they were only a mere few inches away. The urge to touch him became more than she could bear, so she gently placed her hand on his muscular arm, mainly to offer support.

In a flash, a vision came into her head. There was a dark room with only a flickering candle to bring light. A worn cot with a thread-barren blanket sat in the corner. And...an unconscious body lying face down on the floor with thick, red liquid surrounding the head.

But the body was not of a woman.