Posy jerked upright as she spun around to find a tall, tanned man standing behind her, his hands in the pockets of his slacks. He could have been anywhere between his mid-fifties and his seventies, Posy thought, with his greying hair smartly styled, and the lines around his eyes adding warmth to his smile. He reminded her, more than anything, of some of the older actors she’d met in Hollywood. The ones still playing romantic leads against twenty-something girls, even after they were old enough to be their grandfathers.

‘Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you.’ He held out a hand. ‘Hugh Davenport. Welcome to Aldermere.’

‘This is your house. I mean, you’re Lettice Davenport’s nephew.’ Belatedly, she reached out to shake his hand. ‘Um, thank you for having me.’

His laugh was as friendly as his smile. ‘You’re very welcome. Although she was technically my first cousin once removed – my father’s cousin.’ He gestured towards the family tree. ‘But I always called her Auntie. You were admiring her doll house. Do you know the story?’

A glance towards the stairs confirmed that Clementine was still busy with the other guests. ‘I’d love to hear your version of it.’

‘Not half as much as I enjoy telling it, I’m sure.’ Hugh leaned a hip against the table. ‘The dollhouse was a gift to Aunt Letty from my grandfather, when she was a girl. She stayed here often during the summer holidays and such, and since Grandma and Granddad had only boys, he wanted her to have something of her own to play with.’

‘That was kind,’ Posy murmured.

‘Mmm. Anyway, she grew up and it got forgotten and dusty, until she came to stay again one summer when she was in her twenties, I think. She was already published by then, and she was working on a stately home murder mystery. One night at dinner, she complained that the draughty window in her room meant her notes kept blowing off her desk, and she couldn’t keep track of who was where when. My father dug out the old dollhouse, and cleaned it up for her to use.’

‘She must have loved that.’

Hugh laughed. ‘Actually, I believe she said that she’d have rather he fix the window in her room. But she did use the dollhouse to work out the plots for every other mystery she wrote that was set in a grand old house like this one.’

Posy looked down at the dollhouse, then reached in to retrieve the tiny, murdered doll. ‘Using these?’

‘That’s right.’ He took the doll from her, holding it between two fingers. ‘This should be up in the study. I’ll return it. And it looks like you have places to be, too,’ he added, looking over her shoulder. ‘Hullo, Clementine. Everything going smoothly so far?’

‘Perfectly, thank you, Mr Davenport.’ Clementine’s voice was soft. ‘Posy, if you’re ready?’