The man – he misremembered his name – had either forgotten that Watson was present or didn't care if he caused offence. He fixed him with glacial stare. He was famous for his set downs and had no intention of letting this upstart comment nothing whatsoever to do with him.

  Before he could speak Mr Watson interrupted. 'It's none of your damn business, sir, and you'd do well to hold your tongue.'

  'Exactly so. If you don't find your accommodation or the ambiance of my home to your liking then have your trunks packed and leave at first light tomorrow.'

  The man deflated like a spent balloon. Benedict thought it might be his lady wife's reaction to being evicted that had caused the man to panic. His fulsome apology was embarrassing to all that heard it but Benedict nodded and smoothed over the awkward moment.

  'Shall we join the ladies, gentlemen? You've all travelled some distance the day and I'm sure will wish to retire early. The tea tray will be brought in at ten o'clock.' He smiled at the dozen gentlemen. 'I prefer coffee so that too will be served.' He stood up and they had no option but to follow his lead. 'How many of you will be joining me for a gallop across the countryside before we break our fast at nine o'clock?'

  He was unsurprised when only the younger members of the group showed any enthusiasm for this invitation. 'How many of you brought your own mounts? I need to send word to the stables tonight so the horses are ready when we come down first thing.'

  Four hadn't and three had so there'd be no difficulty finding something for them to ride. He kept a well-stocked stables with thoroughbreds and hunters as well as two teams of carriage horses. This was one thing he hadn't cut back on – gentlemen always had a decent mount whatever their circumstances.

  There was a rustle of anticipation amongst the ladies as he walked into the room. He felt like the bait in a bear trap – and a faint prickle of unease ran along his spine. Three of his footmen had given him sidelong glances, almost malevolent, and Foster was nowhere to be seen. Maybe he'd dismiss the four of them tonight and have them gone by morning. To do so would cause major inconvenience for his mother as it would leave no one suitable to run the household.

  Why his butler, who'd been a loyal servant for years, should suddenly turn against the family was a conundrum. Initially he'd thought the malice directed towards the Watsons but now he wondered if they'd just been selected as they were the first to arrive.

  The majority of the young gentlemen congregated at the far end of the drawing room with the girls. whereas the older men joined their wives. He had no wish to mingle with either group, but to remain isolated was putting him in danger of having an eager mother or daring daughter pounce on him.

  The one place he could be solitary was at the piano. Not many gentlemen played, being an accomplished musician was unusual, but he'd loved music since he was a small boy. He was teaching his sister with great success and she seemed likely to surpass him as her hands grew and her fingers could span the chords more easily.

  He strolled to the piano, tonight pushed up against a wall, and pulled out the stool. His staff always left the instrument open as they knew he often chose to play after dinner. There was no necessity for sheet music as he could play a dozen or more pieces from memory. This also meant no young lady could rush across and offer to turn the pages for him.

  He closed his eyes, thought for a moment and then began to play a Bach sonata. He forgot he had an audience, just lost himself in the music, so when he finished he was startled by the loud applause.

  'I say, my lord, that was capital. Puts the ladies to shame,' one of the older gentlemen called out.

  He was about to thank him when two of the girls ran up. 'Will you play so we can dance, my lord? It won't take a minute to have your footmen roll up the rug.'

  'No, he will not, Miss Compton. Tomorrow evening there will be dancing, tonight everyone is retiring early. The tea is coming in now.' Mama had stepped in and resolved the problem.

  He smiled politely at the disappointed girls and moved hastily away from the piano. He made a mental note of their names and removed them from his list. He was beginning to think that this entire exercise was a lost cause – he now only had two girls left of the six that were remotely acceptable as his future bride.

  There was a strange silence hanging over his bedchamber when he awoke the next morning. He knew at once what had happened, it had snowed overnight. This ruled out the possibility of riding or any outside activities so the gentlemen would have to settle for billiards, fencing or cards. The ladies would no doubt find something to entertain themselves as they were more used to being idle.

  He flung back the bedcovers and walked, completely unclothed as he refused to wear a nightshirt, and drew back the curtains. The shutters were closed but he could see snow through the slats.

  It was fortuitous that the blizzard had waited until all his guests were present as nobody would be either coming or going for the next few days. He shivered and hastily shrugged into his bedrobe and pushed his bare feet into his slippers.

  Waiting for his valet to appear and make up the fire made no sense as he was perfectly capable of doing it for himself and was thus able to make the room warmer. His hot water arrived and once he was shaved, he dressed in his normal attire. Clothes for a gentleman, whether riding or remaining inside, were the same during the day.

  There would be coffee waiting for him in his study which was all he wanted until he could break his fast at nine o'clock with everybody else. He'd quite forgotten that there were guests staying on this side of the house and when he stepped out he collided with Miss Watson and thought for a moment that she'd come in search of him.

  She ricocheted from his chest and bounced against the wall. He stumbled sideways into one of the windows that ran all along this corridor. The shutters were still closed but sufficient light filtered through to see your way. One elbow crashed into a windowpane and there was an ominous sound of breaking glass.

  The girl was beside him before he could react himself. 'Stay still, my lord, try and remove your elbow too hastily the shards of glass will penetrate your jacket and do you harm.'

  He froze and turned his head to look for himself. 'God's teeth! It's been nothing but a catalogue of disasters these past twenty-four hours.'

  She ignored his less than helpful exclamation and without care for her own safety she moved close to him and began to carefully extricate the slivers of glass that were embedded in his jacket sleeve.

  'No, you'll cut your fingers …'

  'I won't, not if you stand still. I'm almost done.' There was a slight tug on the material around his elbow and then she carefully drew it from the hole in the window. 'There, my lord, remain quiet whilst I complete my ministrations.'

  With nimble fingers she pulled out the glass dropped it with the rest on the window sill. He flexed his arm and was confident he'd not been damaged by the incident. Even his jacket was relatively unscathed – there were a few small holes but he doubted anybody would notice. He certainly wasn't going to change for such trivial damage.

  'Thank you, Miss Watson, your timely intervention prevented me from being injured.'

  She laughed. 'There would have been no necessity for me to do anything at all if I'd been looking where I was going and not collided with you as I did.'

  'It's I that should apologise for stepping out of my bedchamber without checking the passageway was clear.'

  She nodded, her delightful smile lighting up her face. He'd not thought himself attracted to those with Irish colouring but her chestnut hair and emerald green eyes were making him reconsider his opinion. In fact, everything about this young lady was making him change his mind about who he might offer for.

  'Of course, my lord, I'm sure that you always check there's no member of your family racing down the passage and likely to send you flying.'

  'Let's stop, bandying words in this icy, draughty place and go somewhere warmer. Might I inquire what you're doing up so early?'

  'I was going to check if Sinbad and my dogs had managed to arrive before the snow. I fear they might be marooned somewhere and not able to join us. I didn't give Billy, our head groom, enough to cover his expenses for more than two nights.'

  He offered his arm but she shook her head. 'Thank you, but I’ll not risk it as there might well be a few splinters that I missed. I think it might be wise if you changed it.'

  'Wait there – I'll not be a moment. No, it's too cold for anyone to hang about here. Return to your apartment and I'll knock on your door when I'm ready to descend.'

  *

  Thea was going to protest, but he'd already gone. Who was he to issue orders in that way? He wasn't a relative and she'd no intention of listening to anything he said on that score. He certainly wasn't a very observant gentleman or he would have noticed that she was warmly dressed and would come to no harm at all staying where she was.

  She continued on her journey and after a few minutes searching discovered the side door she wanted. She pulled back the bolts. It opened inwards and a deluge of freezing snow fell in onto her boots and the bottom of her thick cloak.

  It would be impossible to close the door behind her with so much snow in the way. She needed to find a footman and ask him to deal with it. She found one carrying a tray of coffee and explained her predicament.

  'I'll deal with that, Miss Watson.'

  She thanked him and ventured into the deep snow that covered the path. She'd had the common sense to put on her riding boots which were relatively waterproof and she found the stables without mishap.

  Her lips curved when she heard the familiar sound of her dogs yelping with excitement somewhere. 'Just a moment, my lovely boys, I'm coming to let you out.'

  There were lanterns hanging from the wall in the stable yard which sent a pretty glow onto the white snow. There were two stable boys busy shovelling it into a heap in the centre of the cobbles.

  'Them dogs must have heard you, miss. They've not made a peep all night. Your stallion's good as gold, made himself at home already.' The boy, muffled with a scarf around his head and another around his neck, pointed his shovel at a closed door on the far side of the yard.

  'Thank you, I'm glad they arrived safely.' She stepped carefully across the slippery cobbles to reach the door upon which the dogs were now hurling themselves in excitement. Both boys stepped in front of her, shovels at the ready, and in a few short minutes she was able to release the dogs.

  They threw themselves at her, but she was ready for their onslaught, and had positioned herself with her back firmly against the wall. It took several minutes for them to complete their welcome and by then she was covered in snow, slobber and dog hair. This was nothing new, and part of being the owner of such large, hairy, excitable dogs.

  'Come on, let's go into the woods as the snow might be less thick under the trees.'

  The stable boys had finished their clearing in double quick time and would have gone into the barn which held the stalls where the horses were kept. It was always warm in there.

  The sun would be up soon but it was still too dark to venture far without taking a lantern. She lifted one from the hook nearest to her and then, the dogs bouncing around beside her, sometimes up to their chests in the snow, she made her way slowly towards the trees she could see in the distance. She was already unpleasantly chilled but they were oblivious to the cold.

  It didn't take more than fifteen minutes for her to realise going anywhere with the temperature well below freezing and the snow above her knees was a risky procedure.

  'I'm sorry, we must return. You can't come in the house but I'll let you into the barn so you can join Sinbad. He'll be pleased to see you both.'

  Even though she'd only been out a relatively short time her nose was icy, her fingers numb and she couldn't feel her toes. She waded through the snow on the path that led to the side door and reached out to open it with some relief.

  She lifted the latch and pushed but it didn't budge. The door was too hefty to move when she shook it and she doubted anyone would hear if she knocked. She had two options, she could remain in the stables or attempt to get in through the front.

  There must be some members of staff around who would hear her knocking if she did that. None of the paths had been cleared as yet, walking was becoming more difficult as her skirts and cloak became heavy with accumulated snow. Eventually, she'd walked the width of the house and then half its length to reach the central front door.

  She was so eager to get in out of the cold she didn't watch her step, didn't notice the ice, and her feet slid from under her. She tumbled into the deep snow beside the entrance. She lay for a few minutes, winded, disorientated, but not seriously harmed.

  Her main danger was that she was likely to freeze to death if she couldn't get in immediately. Her breath steamed in clouds in front of her face; from her prone position she glanced up and saw long icicles dangling from the ceiling of the portico beside her.

  She must gather her strength and get herself up, although it was rather comfortable where she was so perhaps it wouldn't matter if she remained there for a few moments. In the distance she heard someone shouting, a door banging and was then scooped from her resting place.

  'God's teeth! Why are you lying about down there, idiot child? I've been searching for you this past half hour and only just realised you were locked out.' As he spoke he was carrying her inside. She hid her face against his shoulder and fell asleep.

  When she awoke weak, winter sunlight filled the room and she knew it must be almost noon. She was beautifully warm, in fact rather too hot as she was wrapped like a mummy in red flannel and the bed was piled with comforters.

  'Good heavens, Dora, what were you thinking to go out in this weather?'

  'Mama, I don't remember. I do know that someone had locked me out and I cannot imagine why.'

  'As soon as the weather improves, my love, we're returning to Tiverton Hall. It's been an unmitigated disaster this visit. Unfortunately, nobody will be going anywhere for days, possibly longer, with so much snow on the ground.'

  For her father to be in her bedchamber things must have been serious indeed. 'I'm sorry to have been such a nuisance to you both. I remember now why I went out, it was to see if my dogs and my horse had arrived safely.'

  'Thank you for telling us, belatedly, but at least you've owned up now. Lord Stonham told us and he also saved your life,' Pa said.

  'The footman that let you out deliberately bolted the door after you. His lordship, so I'm told, found the man and knocked him senseless. I don't approve of fisticuffs, but on this occasion, I applaud his actions.'

  They had her full attention; she wriggled herself free of her restraints and sat up. 'He punched a servant? I suppose that's marginally better than taking a horsewhip to him. I'm at a loss to understand why he didn't just dismiss the man.'

  'He can hardly send him out to die in the snow, my dear, but I can assure you he'll be gone when it's safe for him to do so.'

  'Papa, forgive me for asking you, but is there any reason why the staff at this establishment should be trying to harm us? Have you issued shares or bonds in one of your companies that have failed so they could have lost money because of you?'

  'I thought the same myself, my love, but have dismissed it. There's something havey-cavey going on at this house. Your dogs are now going to sleep in your sitting room to keep you safe.'

  Chapter Six

  Benedict didn't regret for a minute flooring the footman for his actions. He'd wanted to break his neck for almost killing Thea – she was no longer Miss Watson in his thoughts. The man was now locked in a store room and he intended to interrogate him – but first he was going to get Foster into his study and make him explain what was going on.

  When he'd seen her lying in the snow, ashen-faced, blue-lipped, he'd thought he was too late. Thank God she'd rallied with the treatment her mother and maid had given her. As soon as he'd been sure she was going to make a full recovery he'd gone in search of the man who'd locked her out. His knuckles were still tingling from their solid contact with the bastard's chin.

  Before he sent for Foster, he bounded up the stairs to knock on Thea's sitting room door. There was a scuffling sound, the door flew open and he was almost knocked over by two enormous wolfhounds. They were drowning him with their licks and he pushed them off. 'Enough, stop. Sit down.'

  An apologetic maid arrived. 'I beg your pardon, my lord, they mean no harm.' She stared open-mouthed at the two animals sitting, eyes fixed on him, long plumy tails brushing the floor. 'Good heavens above! I've never seen them do that for anyone but miss.'

  'They are splendid animals but are not meant for inside the house.'

  Watson called out from inside the room. 'They stay in this apartment to protect my daughter until the weather clears and we can leave this place. There's something nasty going on here and I deeply regret accepting your invitation.'

  This was hardly a suitable place to be holding such a conversation as they could be overheard and what was spoken could be relayed downstairs to the servants' quarters. 'Mr Watson, I came merely to enquire if your daughter is now recovered. If you'd care to join me in my study there are things we need to talk about.'

  There was the sound of movement and then Watson stepped out into the passageway. 'Dora is well, but her mother insists she remains up here, at least until this afternoon. I'll come with you now, sir.'

  The study was on the opposite side of the house to the main reception rooms so there was no danger of bumping into any other guests. No doubt they'd draw an erroneous conclusion, assume they were being private so he could ask Watson's permission to make an offer, if they saw them heading anywhere together.

  Benedict snapped his fingers at one of the footmen standing in the central hall. 'Have a tray with coffee and whatever's available brought to my study immediately.'