He had come into the title on his brother’s death, and so The Castle was now his home, the big, awe-inspiring, tradition-bound Castle with his mother controlling everything in it, instead of this graceful gentle house where he might have found peace.

Without saying a word, Lord Lynche led the way down a small incline onto the broad drive that led to the house.

As they drew nearer, Carina could see that the shutters were closed behind the glittering panes of glass. Already there were signs of neglect in the ivy growing up the terrace, the paint peeling from the front door and the weeds growing luxuriantly in the garden.

Carina said nothing until they stopped directly outside the house. She looked up at the white pillars and then from the house across the undulating fields to where, in the far distance, she could see the rounded silhouette of the Malvern Hills.

“It’s so lovely,” she said, almost to herself.

“Yes,” he answered passionately. “Lovely and no one shall ever live here. It shall fall to the ground, it shall rot! It is mine and no one else shall have it, not if I have to pull it down brick by brick.”

She looked at him and saw that he was very tense and that his hands were clenched over the reins. She knew by the pain in his voice what had happened, without his having to tell her.

“How much did you lose?” she asked.

“Everything,” he answered. “Yes, everything!”

“To Sir Percy Rockley?”

There was really no need to ask the question, but somehow she had to be sure.

He nodded his reply.

“Who else?” he enquired.

Chapter 8

“What do you mean, everything?” Carina asked incredulously.

For a moment Lord Lynche did not answer.

She looked at him and thought that she had never seen a man’s face so white beneath a superficial tan.

Then, in a voice that seemed almost strangled, he answered.

“I cannot talk here. Let’s go into the house.”

They dismounted, tying the horses’ bridles to an iron gate near some long grass, which the animals bent their heads to crop greedily.

Lord Lynche set Dipa down onto the ground and he ran ahead of them, obviously delighted at the idea of what seemed to him yet another adventure.

Taking a key from the place where it was hidden underneath one of the window ledges Lord Lynche inserted it into the keyhole.

The door swung open and to her surprise, Carina found herself looking at an exquisitely furnished hall with a wrought iron balustrade to the staircase curving up several floors to a domed roof.

It was, with the exception of Claverly Court, the loveliest house she had ever seen. For a moment she forgot Lord Lynche’s troubles, noting only the inlaid polished furniture, the gilt mirrors hanging on the walls, the marble-topped tables with their elegantly carved legs and the blended colours of the Persian carpets.