John Lovell slammed the lid of the chest down in fury. His shout of anguish echoed through the house and seemed to seep into the very stones.

The Lovell Lodestar was lost, the bridegroom deceived; the thief bride had vanished.

Chapter 1

Serena—Santa Barbara, California—Present Day

Serena stretched out on the sun lounger, relishing the sensation of the last heat of the day against her skin. Above her, a sky of a cloudless azure was starting to fade to pale violet in the west. Below her, a long way below, the white sails of the yachts clustered in the harbor. From the kitchen came the scent of garlic and herbs as Polly prepared supper and beside her on the penthouse balcony was a frosted glass of white wine whose icy coolness contrasted deliciously with the heat radiating from the tiled floor.

Polly came out with the bottle, a chef’s apron over her chic black-and-white swimming costume. She smiled indulgently when she saw her niece, book discarded on the lounger beside her, sunglasses removed and face tilted up to capture the last rays of the setting sun.

“Supper will be in ten minutes.” She waved the bottle. “Would you like a top up?”

Serena opened her eyes and smiled. “I’ll have some with my meal, thanks.” She groped for her sandals. “Can I help? Make a salad or something?”

“It’s already done.” Polly put the bottle on the little black steel table at Serena’s side and sat in the fat, cushioned chair opposite. “You stay here a while longer. You look so much better, hon. You look...happy.”

“Why wouldn’t I be?” Serena ignored the tiny shadow that crossed her mind at Polly’s words. “This is an amazing place, Aunt Pol.”

Polly’s face eased into another smile. “Better than Bristol?”

“Better than anywhere.” Serena yawned, stretched. “Thank you so much for inviting me.”

“You’ve been working hard,” Polly said. “You deserve a break.”

“I can’t remember when I last took a holiday,” Serena admitted. “If you hadn’t encouraged me...”

“Nagged you, you mean.” Polly sounded rueful. “I know it’s full on running your own business, but sometimes people function better after a rest and you do drive yourself hard.”

“That’s true.” Serena stretched luxuriously again. “You’re a wise woman, Aunt Pol.”

Polly picked up her wineglass. Her gaze was fixed on the distant horizon where the sea seemed to slip into infinity.

“It’s lovely to have you here,” she said. “It reminds me of when you and Caitlin were children, and we all went to Oxfordshire for your school holidays and spent time together at Minster Lovell—” She stopped abruptly, the warmth falling away from her expression. “Sorry,” she said. “I don’t know why I said that. It’s nothing like those times.”

Suddenly the sun seemed to have lost all its heat. Serena reached for her wrap, shivering.

“I do understand what you mean,” she said slowly. “It feels...easy...like those old holidays did. There were no shadows, no ghosts looking over our shoulders.”