"Will you be staying next week, through the garden party, Rose?"

"Hasn't my brother told you?"

"I'm moving back into Blackwell Grange. I've come home until I die."

"Dinner is served."

"Shall we go to the dining room?"

"When was all of this arranged?"

"We'll talk about this later."

"In the meantime, let's all go enjoy a wonderful meal in the dining room."

"Yes, I'm famished! Err... Mrs. White isn't running the kitchen, is she?"

"We only let Mrs. White run the kitchen in dire situations. My full-time cook is absolutely wonderful!"

"Take Fivel upstairs. He'll be taking his meal in the nursery."

"I want to eat downstairs with everyone else."

"Not this time, love. We are going to be talking about grown-up things."

"I think Dr. Black wanted a quiet, peaceful, family meal with everyone present..."

"And after Fivel has had his meal, upstairs, in the nursery, he will have a bath and go straight to bed."

"I'm not sure that Dr Black..."

"No onions for Master Fivel."

"Yvette, it is the same with every meal. Master Fivel cannot eat onions. Pull your head out of the clouds."

"How is she going to handle the kitchen when we have a full house of guests?"

"She's right, Yvette. There'll be short orders left and right! Yvette, are you listening to me?"

"I can't do this anymore..."

"What is going on with you?"

"It's Dr. Black. The type of man he is. I never knew he could be so... so..."

"Sweet child."

"Dr. Black tends to attract women. So much so that he thinks every woman in the world wants him. He pursued Mrs. White many years ago when she was a younger woman. He ruined Nurse Silver's life about ten years ago."

"But the murders..."

"Now listen here, young girl. This job pays well. We wouldn't be here if we haven't done something that keeps us from working somewhere else."

"I've never done anything wrong..."

"Then you were born into it, just like Hugh, just like Rose."

"Am I supposed to be grateful?"

"No, but you're alive, fed, and protected."

"We aren't protected inside these walls from each other."

"Where are Fivel and Ava?"

"Fivel wasn't feeling well, so Nurse Silver took him upstairs. Mrs. White, you'll bring him a plate?"

"The guests are due to arrive tomorrow around five o'clock. That should give everyone plenty of time to settle into your rooms and enjoy the mansion for a while before."

"Have the deer been plentiful?"

"We'll have a hunt in the morning, don't you worry."

"That'll give us time to catch up and talk."

"I'm going to have a few rounds of carom and brandy after dinner if anyone wishes to join me."

"Have you finally purchased a carom table?"

"Not yet, but I've been meaning to bring that up to my dear brother."

"It's not necessary. One table is fine."

"We could have more people in the room. Several games going at once. Surely two tables aren't unreasonable?"

"The billiard room will stay the way it is. Blackwell Grange isn't a dollhouse to be remodeled. It is a relic of this family and their perseverance."

"This table was commissioned for this room when my great-great-grandfather built our home. Five generations of Blacks have laughed, argued, and drank at this table. Three generations have gambled, won, and lost on the table in the billiard room. The billiard room will stay the way it is. We don't change tradition."

"But I assume father did stuff most of my old possession from my bedroom into the attic?"

"I'll have Mr. Ash bring everything downstairs before you retire for the evening. In fact, Mrs. White can take care of the rest of dinner. Mr. Ash, take care of that right now."

"Just leave it up there. I'll set up my room in the attic's spare room."

"We'd all much rather have you on the same floor as us."

"Or the guest wing."

"Especially since you've come home with the ill intention of dying, we'd all love to check on you regularly."

"When I die, everyone will know. But no one will care. Too many other things will be going on. No point in mourning one more body."

"That's brilliantly dark! It's good to have you home, Sister Rose."

"And Hugh, don't bother Mr. Ash by moving a single thing from the attic. I always enjoyed the view from up there anyway."

"I, for one, think it is a marvelous idea. If your sister absolutely must live with us, the least we can do is give her the room she wants."

"My poor bones are not climbing up five flights of stairs to change your bed-sheets after you've gotten sick on opium for the eleventh time in one afternoon."

"I hardly even smoke that much opium anymore."

"Well, that's a shame because I was going to dig out the old pipe. We haven't shared an opium pipe since we were in our twenties. Are you sure you won't indulge in an old habit? We could sit in the conservatory and fill the glass roof with smoke. You could read my palm. It could be a wonderful brother-sister bonding moment."

"I suppose sleeping downstairs in the family wing might help my visions. The east windows catch the most moonlight."

"And the opium?"

"We'll teach Yvette to smoke so she can be your personal opium maid. The poor girl needs something to change her mood."

"Miss Dove, I do hope you wouldn't mind me asking a personal question?"

"Not at all, Colonel. Go right ahead."

"This weekend is for us all to get to know one another better, after all."

"What became of your child's father?"

"I'm not sure she wants to..."

"No, it's fine. It's a question that is going to be asked a lot over the weekend, I'm sure."

"It... uh. I didn't know him... Getting pregnant... It wasn't my choice..."

"I am sorry. I hadn't considered."

"I was alone, it was dark. I didn't know what to do... so I didn't fight back."

"My dear, you don't need to explain anything to us."

"That is why Dr. Black and I are waiting until marriage before sharing a bed. I want my first real time to mean something."

"Shall we save the rest of the personal questions for after dinner?"

"I am sorry."

"You must stop the pacing. It's not helping anyone."

"I'm sorry."

"Go ahead and take the potato peelings out to the compost heap. The fresh air might do you some good."

"If they hear you, it'll ruin everything."

"Who are you? What do you want?"

"Tell Colonel Mustard to go to the Stables tomorrow night after the sun goes down."

"Tell him what I told you. If he asks who gave you the message, you tell him Klaus Gold."

"What's this about?"

"I have no idea."

"Are you going to deliver my message to the Colonel?"

"Good."

"I suppose it was my fault for seeing potential that was never really there. We all make royal mistakes."

"I sang it perfectly every other time..."

"Yes, but not the time that it truly mattered. Not only was the singing spotty, but the French? Did you even look at the libretto, Miss?"

"It was one bad show. A closing night failure."

"I have talent. I deserved the role I got and I deserved the time on stage that I had. I am being hired in Connecticut by a billionaire to sing at his private estate for balls, galas, art openings, and public events. This amateur opera company was lucky to have me."

"No, no, no! You have no potential. You stand there all smug with your high notes, smoking your cigarettes, drinking... your voice will not last forever. I wouldn't be surprised if you've already passed peaked."

"Good bye, Madame Puce."

"Maybe one day you can audition again. After proper vocal care and a serious attitude change, of course."

"Good bye, Madame Puce."

"Finally showed up?"

"You're fatter than I remember."

"You're still the same bitch you've always been."

"Couldn't this wait till tomorrow? We're going to be seeing each other all weekend."

"Someone is trying to take down Blackwell Grange. Do you know anything about that?"

"I don't care about Hugh's image or his status in society. Blackwell can fall to the bottom or rise to the top as far as I'm concerned. Just as long as daddy and I get our money from Black Pharmaceuticals."

"Someone found out about the shit that those people did for fun in France. Someone found out about the club. Someone found and likely killed a club member..."

"What are you talking about? How would you know this?"

"Prince Azure received an anonymous tip that someone has photographs from the last meeting before Sir Benedict was exposed."

"Are any of the club members missing?"

"My father thinks Sir Benedict is still alive..."

"Your father would be wise to keep that to himself."

"What do you think?"

"I have a sneaking suspicion that Klaus Gold is finally striking back."

"Because of what happened in Africa?"

"Yes, Olivia."

"I thought his vendetta was with Mike, not Hugh."

"Gold can hurt Mustard by exposing his best friend and his legacy built on sand."

"Why are you telling me this? What am I supposed to do?"

"I'm going to be looking around Blackwell Grange while I'm there. I need you to get the answers from your father to any questions I might have regarding that elite gentlemen's murder club."

"I never would have married Hugh all those years ago if I knew it would drag my father into that bloodlust..."

"You would do it all over again in a heartbeat if given the opportunity. You've always regretted leaving Olivia Black behind."

"I didn't leave. He forced me out when he started cheating and stopped hiding it."

"You'll be happy to know, the whore in question will be at the engagement party this weekend."

"Patricia hasn't been to Blackwell Grange in twenty years. She turned down every other invitation, I don't she's..."

"She wrote back. She's bringing her stepdaughter and a gentleman friend."

"Will you kill her?"

"Don't we all wish."

"I'm serious."

"I will pay you whatever fee you charge to kill that bitch. I don't want to see her face, that smirk, those eyes... I can't see her. I won't."

"I'm not a fucking hitman!"

"You kill people all the time. It's part of 'business'."

"I do it when I have to, but I don't do it all the time. And I certainly don't do it for other people. Besides, I like Patricia. She's a funny guy when you get to know her."

"Then I'm not going to Blackwell Grange..."

"Fuck if I care..."

"I thought you needed me to get my father to answer questions."

"That's just busy work. I'm sure I can find a maid that'll eavesdrop for me. Mrs. White and I go way back."

"Don't you owe her more favors than she owes you?"

"Blanche and I don't keep track of that stuff."

"So either I don't go to Blackwell Grange, or I suffer through seeing that bitch and listening to her gloat about how she stole Hugh from me?"

"I guess..."

"I'm going to talk to daddy. Surely someone from that murder club will be happy to end that woman's wretched life..."

"I'm sorry, I know it's late..."

"Mrs. Peacock, I told you that I'm available at any time. You are going through a lot right now. Losing a husband, losing your home, now a lover."

"With Edward, we just expressed ourselves through sex and passion. I never had that with any of my husbands... only Hugh..."

"Your obsession with your life from twenty years ago is not only damaging your current perspective, but there is no winning. Is the best case scenario Hugh falls in love with you again and starts a family with you at this stage of your lives? You two aren't the same people you were twenty years ago. You have five husbands of baggage and who knows how many women have changed him. Never, ever downplay how everything ended in the first place."

"He left me when I was at rock bottom! Our baby..."

"I think you are confusing your emotions of anger from a stillborn baby with the feelings of love that you once had with Hugh. You are fueling a monster that will never be satisfied. Patricia, what happened to you was unspeakable. But nothing Hugh will ever do for you will make up for the fact that he abandoned you while you were still mourning your baby."

"Two miscarriages... then that pale, still, lifeless..."

"You should reconsider returning to Blackwell Grange. Leave it behind. Don't go back there. You'll only rip open deeper scars."

"I have to do this. I can do it."

"Why? Why do you have to do this? In our last session, you talked about the things you felt you had to do because you had no control over your self. Is this one of those choices?"

"It's getting late, Dr. Prussian."

"Patricia, please, come see me tomorrow. Don't go to Connecticut."

"I'm sorry, but I have to."

"You'll call me if something happens while you're there?"

"I'll be fine, Dr. Prussian. You've helped me tonight. The thing you said about confusing anger..."

"Mrs. Peacock."

"Please take care of yourself. I'll see myself out."