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He was unconscious for maybe two seconds before he opened his eyes. He stared groggily at the spots of blood on his white shirt.

“It’s just a split lip,” I said. “You’ll live.” Then I added, “As long as you tell me where she is.”

“Lady Justina,” he said, echoing Sir Alastair, “has disappeared.”

I hauled him up by his shirt collar and drew back my fist. “Do I look like I was born yesterday, Phillips? Tell me where she is or I’ll—”

His eyes were full of fear. Good. Talk, buddy. He opened his mouth. Then a subtle change came over him, replacing his fear with confidence. At the same moment a sledge hammer hit my head and knocked me to the ground.

As I struggled to my hands and knees, I realized, firstly, that it couldn’t have been a sledge hammer—I was still alive—and secondly, that the blow had come from Francois. Who knew martial arts was in the job description of a chef?

Francois stood over me ready to strike again if I fought back. His stance screamed black belt.

I touched my cheek. The same one Leith had backhanded. Luckily it didn’t feel broken, but it was going to bruise like a champion, which meant Francois hadn’t used full strength. If he had, I’d be unconscious or worse.

Francois said politely, “It’s time to leave, Ms. Fairweather.”

I had two options. Either I could fight and, let’s face it, probably die. Or I could find out the truth of the saying, She who fights and runs away lives to fight another day. It was a no-brainer.

I swallowed my pride. “I’m going.” Wearing my humiliation like a badge of honor, I walked toward the front door. As I passed Sir Alastair, I couldn’t resist a parting shot. “I’ll return her to the loch if it’s the last thing I do.”

“I’m sure it will be,” he answered politely.

I stepped out into the darkness and the door closed behind me. The lock turned loudly. I used every swear word I could think of. Then I kicked the wall of Maitland House. Solid stone. Ouch.

More swearing.

“Settle down, Allegra.”

“Casper.” I whirled to face him. “Why didn’t you help me in there? What kind of guardian angel are you?”

“A sensible one.”

“Yeah, well, thanks for nothing.”

“If you’d been in real trouble I’d have helped out.”

“You think this isn’t real?” I pointed to my face. Then I realized he couldn’t see it in the darkness. “I think my cheek’s broken.” Exaggeration never hurt anyone, and if it made Casper feel bad…

Well, good.

“Which cheek?” he asked. “Left or right?”

“Right.”

He ran his fingers over my cheek. I flinched. Sore. His fingers became feather light, gossamer wings, angel hair. I closed my eyes. I was heading straight for Cloud 9. I swear my feet left the ground. Then he withdrew his hand.

“It’s not broken,” he said confidently.

“How can you be sure?”

“I’m an angel. I know these things.”

“What about my jaw? It’s really sore. Right here.” I pointed, stopping short of grabbing his hand and pressing it against my skin. If I did that he might feel obliged to recuse himself from being my guardian angel.

“You’re fine, Allegra.”

Accepting his verdict, I asked, “So if you didn’t come here to protect me, what’re you doing here?”

“I did come here to protect you,” he replied, “but you looked as though you we doing okay by yourself, so I stayed out of it.”

“Just for future reference,” I said, “even if I look like I’m doing okay, feel free to step in.” Before he could answer, I stabbed a finger at the forbidding walls of Maitland House. “They’ve got Justina in there. If I don’t get to her by midnight she’ll kill herself.”

“You’ll get to her in time,” he said. “I have every confidence in you, Allegra.”

“I wish I shared your confidence.” For a moment I sagged against the cold stone of Maitland House.

“What do we do now?” asked Casper.

I answered him with a question. “Are you planning on hanging around?”

“Until the case is closed.”

“I see. Then I guess we will go back to Mac’s.”

“Sounds like a good plan,” he said. “Will you buy me dinner?”

“Casper! I’m trying to save a woman’s—a selkie’s—life.”

“Sorry,” he said. “I don’t mean to be insensitive. It’s just that I look at death