Dipa ran over the clipped lawns and tried to make the ducks feed out of his hand with the scraps of bread they had bought down from the nurseries after breakfast.

Carina thought now that she must have been overtired and perhaps, if she was honest, a little hysterical after all the tumultuous events of the day.

And yet the terror that she had experienced was still very real despite the fact that the knock on the door had been nothing more terrifying than the housemaid sent by Mrs. Barnstaple to ask what time they wanted breakfast.

She turned from the lake to glance back at the great dark house. It was enormous, but now that the windows were no longer shuttered it did not seem quite so awe-inspiring.

‘And yet there is something vaguely foreboding about it,’ Carina thought – something that seemed, in the back of her mind, to be the forerunner of trouble or perhaps danger.

‘Don’t be ridiculous!’ she told herself and thought that she was merely comparing Lynche Castle with Claverly Court, to the former’s disadvantage.

She could see now the white porticoes of Claverly, the lawns running down to the little stream at the bottom of the garden, the fir trees where she used to hide from visitors when she was a child.

How she had loved Claverly! How it was linked with everything in her mind that meant joy and happiness!

For a moment she could no longer see the lake shimmering in the sunshine in front of her and Dipa laughing and chuckling at the swans or the great Castle darkly silhouetted against the blue sky.

Instead she saw a woman in white holding out her arms. She ran towards her, shouting and laughing with happiness, because her mother had come home.

“I hope you slept well,” a grave voice said beside her and made her jump because, intent in her thoughts, she had heard no one coming.

She turned to see Lord Lynche just a few yards away from her, astride a magnificent black horse.

He was looking extremely handsome and, as he raised his hat, she saw that his dark hair had a chestnut tinge that she had not noticed the night before. She had stiffened at the sound of his voice and now, because in spite of herself she had to admit that he was good-looking, she felt herself grow almost frigid with dislike.

“I thank you, my Lord, both Dipa and I passed a good night,” she replied.

“They are looking after you? You will ask Mrs. Barnstaple for anything you want?”

“Mrs. Barnstaple has already been most kind.”

He looked away from Carina to Dipa, still trying to entice the ducks nearer to him and then frightening them because, in his excitement, he jumped about and chattered.

Carina watched Lord Lynche, hoping perhaps unconsciously for some softening in his expression – some kindness.

But his voice was harsh as he turned towards her again and said,