She took the staircase down to the main hall once she found it, and realised it brought her back to the room she’d sat in to clean her gun on her first day. She opened the connecting door to the next room to check for blackmailers, and saw a more comfortable area with a deep armchair, which she decided to claim. It still wasn’t precisely cosy with the wind and rain thrashing against the window, but that couldn’t be helped. She shut the connecting door behind her, and settled down with her book in peace.

That lasted for perhaps an hour before she heard the raised voices from the next room.

“...absolutely shitty thing to do!” That was Jimmy, thick-voiced and furious.

“Shitty?” Bill demanded, explosively. “Me, shitty? Well, it takes one to know one, you bastard. How you have the bloody face to talk to me about deception—”

“For Christ’s sake, I had no choice!”

“Nor did I!”

Pat cursed internally, albeit not in the men’s appalling language. Did nobody in this house ever take precautions to have a private conversation? Well, she was not going to eavesdrop for a second time, which meant leaving at once or making her presence known. Respect for privacy briefly warred with a combination of curiosity, sisterly protectiveness, and a desire to give Jimmy the telling-off he deserved. Privacy was roundly defeated, so Pat uncurled from her chair, gave the connecting door a perfunctory knock, and opened it.

Bill and Jimmy were facing off on their feet, Bill rather white, Jimmy red. Both had a look Pat couldn’t have defined, but which went with the raw notes she’d heard in their voices, and she strode briskly into the room wondering if she’d need a jug of water. “All right, that’ll do.”

“Would you mind, Pat,” Bill said through his teeth.

“If you proclaim your business at the top of your voices, you can take the consequences. We’ve had enough throttling people.”

“I’m not going to throttle anyone. Nor is Jimmy.”

“Don’t bloody bank on it,” Jimmy said. “Sorry, Pat. Sorry. I—hell. Oh hell.”

He sat abruptly, dropping his face into his hands. Bill looked down at him, then turned away.

“Goodness.” Pat shut the door, in case anyone else happened to be wandering around. “Look, I don’t know what’s going on, but I should say, Fen told me the engagement is off.”

“What?” Bill barked.

Pat ignored him. He needed to calm down. “I needn’t say how I think you’ve behaved, Jimmy—”

“I’ve nobody to blame but myself. You don’t need to tell me that.” Jimmy’s face returned to his hands.

“Well, you seemed to be piling the blame on Bill.”

“Ah, no,” Bill said. “Jimmy is annoyed with me because I’m here to look into his father’s financial affairs.”