The young man smiled, nodded and dashed off eager to do what was asked. This reinforced his conclusion that not all the staff were involved. He stepped aside and allowed the older man to enter his private domain first.

  'Thank you for agreeing to accompany me. There's much we need to talk about.'

  Once they were settled, he ran through the various incidents which so far had seemed to involve only this family.

  'Is there any chance at all that any of my staff might have invested in one of your companies and lost money through doing so?'

  'My daughter asked the same question and I'll give you the same answer. Absolutely not. I'm wondering if your butler and the handful of other staff involved in this have been paid by one of the other families. I believe that Dora will have the biggest dowry and is quite definitely the most eligible of the young ladies here. The only thing that makes any sense is that whoever is behind this wants to remove her from the running.'

  Benedict had left the door ajar so the footman could come in with the refreshments. Once the tray had been placed on the table, he thanked the young man and asked him to close the door as he left.

  'Coffee? I don't drink tea unless absolutely forced, but can send for some if you would prefer it.'

  'Coffee is my choice too. Tea's for the ladies, in my opinion.'

  They munched through several slices of toast and emptied the coffee pot without returning to the thorny subject. He collected the used cutlery and crockery, returned it to the tray and then moved it all onto his desk.

  'To return to the conversation we were having earlier. Do you have any suggestions as to which family would go to such lengths?'

  'I don't. In fact, all the gentlemen here seem pleasant enough, the ladies also. I hardly think that any of the younger generation would be involved in such a scheme. What could they possibly have to gain?'

  Benedict stretched out his legs towards the fire, leaned back in his chair and put his hands behind his head. 'I'd be grateful if you'd help me with this investigation. I'm going to send for Foster now and having you here to help with the interrogation, to witness what might be said, is going to make that easier.'

  'I'd be glad to. I must point out, young man, that it doesn't change my decision to leave as soon as the weather allows. I was never happy about buying my way into the aristocracy – I'm comfortable in my own skin, as is my daughter. It's Mrs Watson who has ideas of grandeur.'

  'I understand perfectly. Believe me, sir, I'm not comfortable with what I'm having to do either. I've no choice if I don't want to lose my ancestral home and leave my mother and siblings all but destitute.'

  'Needs must, my boy, needs must. I've been obliged to do a few things I'd rather not have done in order to keep my family safe. My employees are well-looked-after, decently housed and no child under ten years of age works in my factories.'

  There were, he thought, at least one scullery maid and a boot boy employed in this house so he could hardly comment on the age of those working in the factory.

  He pulled the bell-strap and when his summons was answered he told the same footman who'd brought their somewhat meagre breakfast to remove the tray and ask Foster to come to the study.

  Benedict sat behind the desk and Watson stood at the back of him. He glanced around and nodded his approval. They made an impressive team. Watson was the same height as himself, but broader in the chest. The fact that he had the same colouring as his daughter gave him an added air of menace. Irishmen were infamous for their ability to cause havoc in any confrontation.

  'Do you have Irish connections, my friend?'

  His companion laughed. 'You're not the first person to ask me, but as far as I know my family were born and bred in London. Mind you, being so close to the docks, it's quite possible that an Irishman married into the family unnoticed.'

  'Your colouring is remarkable, as is that of your daughter.'

  Foster was taking a devil of a long time to come. He must know that his days as butler at Harcourt House were numbered and perhaps that was why he was reluctant to come when summoned.

  Running footsteps approaching the study didn't bode well. Sydney, the footman he'd sent in search of Foster, skidded into the doorway. 'My lord, the bugger's taken off along with three footmen and Mrs Jones is beside herself. She reckons the varmints have cleared the silver cupboard.'

  'They can't have got far in this weather. There's a sledge in the coach house and I've two dray horses kept to pull it. Will you accompany me, sir?'

  'I certainly will. They must have taken leave of their senses to venture out in such weather. Where's your gunroom?'

  'Sydney, can you handle a firearm? Do you know anyone else who is able to?'

  'I'd be better with a cudgel, my lord, but Jed and Tom are good shots. They used to be in the army.'

  Benedict knew exactly to whom Sydney was referring. These were two older men, one with a limp and the other with fingers missing on his left hand. Neither of them were footmen, but both worked inside doing the onerous work.

  'Excellent – have them meet me at the gunroom.' He turned to Mr Watson. 'We'll need to collect our outdoor garments before we depart. I'm the magistrate in this area so it's my duty to apprehend them.'

  They thundered up the stairs causing a lady in a hideous plum ensemble and her nervous daughter to squeal with shock. Moments later he had on his riding coat, two mufflers and his gloves. Watson joined him in the gallery similarly dressed.

  'Now, guns. Can you shoot?'

  'If I have to, but I'm better with my fists.'

  'Let's hope neither of them will be needed. I'm more inclined to think the four of them will have come to grief because of the snow. Why would they run?'

  'It occurred to me, my boy, that they could have accomplices in the village. They might well be able to find their way there without coming to grief.'

  'I'd thought that too. He must have panicked when one of his collaborators was locked in the store room.'

  Outside the sledge was waiting, the heavy horses rugged warmly, and the four men accompanying them were so bundled up they were unrecognisable. This was the most fun he'd had since he raced his curricle to Brighton in the snow a couple of years ago.

  *

  Thea remained in bed until her mother departed for her breakfast and then scrambled out. 'Annie, I want my warmest gown. I think the green velvet with the long sleeves and high neck will be perfect. I'll wear the green boots – the passageways are perishing and just the thought of being cold again fills me with horror.'

  They both looked towards the external door of her bedchamber – the one that opened onto the passageway – as they heard someone running past.

  'What's going on? I'm sure that was his lordship. Something else must have occurred to cause him to rush about the place. Quickly, Annie, go downstairs on the pretext of fetching me a tray of chocolate and pastries and see what you can discover.'

  Whilst her maid was absent she continued to dress, quite capable of managing without her maid when necessary. Lord Harcourt returned at the same speed he'd arrived a few moments earlier. The dogs were hurling themselves at the sitting room door in excitement and before she could reach them and remonstrate it flew open and they hurtled after him.

  Whatever emergency it was, the dogs could either be the most disastrous hindrance or incredibly useful. She was about to rush in after them when Annie returned not carrying a tray.

  'The place is in uproar, miss, that Mr Foster and three of the footmen have stolen the silver and gone off in the snow. Lord Harcourt and your pa, plus four men have gone after them in a sledge.'

  'How extraordinary! I don't understand why anybody in their right mind, and especially not somebody like Mr Foster, would do something so appalling. There are times, Annie, when I deeply regret that I wasn't born a boy as then I could accompany them.'

  Her maid giggled. 'If you were a boy then we wouldn't be here, would we?'

  'Very true, but you know what I mean. I'm perfectly capable of riding in a sledge, firing a gun if necessary, and…' Unfortunately, Mama chose that moment to return and overheard her last remark.

  'What nonsense is this, Dora? Is it not bad enough that your papa has joined Lord Harcourt and is putting his own life at risk? One would think that recovering a cupboard full of silver does not warrant such an action on his part – especially as it isn't his silver that's missing.'

  'I was merely saying, Mama, that I'm capable of doing those things, not that I was going to do them. I think Papa's interested in finding and apprehending those that tried to do me harm – I don't think either gentleman is concerned about the silver.'

  Her mother tutted. 'That's all very well, but as the people involved have now left the premises I cannot see why we can't just get on with the house party and forget all about them.'

  'I'm quite certain he'll come to no harm. I'm sharp-set. Do you think they'll be any breakfast left if we go downstairs immediately?'

  'I've yet to break my fast and it's only just nine o'clock despite all the excitement. We'll go together and see what the others are saying about this brouhaha.'

  They emerged from the family side of the house and were walking across the gallery when another family was doing the same. Thea was ready to exchange greetings but was given the cut direct and she and Mama exchanged a worried glance.

  They hovered on the gallery until there was no danger of them being obliged to mingle with those who'd deliberately ignored them. 'What have we done to upset them apart from being placed with the family?'

  'That wasn't anything to do with us. I'm not going to be deterred from my breakfast. Hold your head high, Dora, and we'll ignore those who don't wish to speak to us.'

  A slight sound behind them made her look around. She caught a glimpse of a tall, thin youth skulking in the corner who looked exactly like the portrait of the previous Lord Harcourt. This must be the younger brother – why he should be hiding and spying on them she'd no idea.

  She waited until they were safely down and in the vast hall before mentioning it to her mother who was unimpressed with the information.

  'Goodness, child, have we not had more than enough excitement and upset since we arrived less than a day ago? A lurking young man is something I don't wish to hear about.'

  'It hardly seems credible that we've only been here so short a time. At least we cannot say we haven't had an interesting visit.'

  They were approaching the smaller room used for breakfast and from the sound of chattering and laughing, the rattle of cutlery and crockery, it was already full – but not too full, Thea hoped.

  'Madam, Miss Watson, breakfast is also being served in the main dining room.' The speaker was the housekeeper was now having to double as the butler. The household would also be down three footmen and this would create more problems for the unfortunate woman who now found herself in charge of a house party. Including personal servants and outside staff, these must number almost one hundred.

  It wasn't done to thank servants as it was considered their duty to serve you as they were being remunerated and not doing so out of regard. However, she hung behind as her mother sailed forth in search of her breakfast.

  'Thank you, Jones, I can imagine how difficult it must be for you. If there's anything I can do to assist, let me know.' This was an empty offer as the divide between even senior staff and family and guests was too wide to be bridged even in an emergency.

  'I appreciate your kindness, Miss Watson, especially as you've been on the receiving end of that man's unpleasantness.'

  'Have you any notion why he singled our family out in this way?'

  'It has all come as a dreadful shock to me and the rest of the staff who I can assure you are completely loyal to the family. I've no idea why Foster has turned into a villain, but one of the footmen thinks he might be involved with some ne'er-do-wells in the village and now owes them a small fortune because of his gambling debts.'

  'I don't know very much about that sort of thing, Jones, but have heard my father speak of the evils of such pastimes. I'd be happy to organise a pantomime, musical evening or charades for the younger guests if that would be a help.'

  'Indeed it would, miss, I have a list of suggested activities but with everything that's been going on, the snow making it impossible for the extra help to come from the village, I've not had time to proceed with it. Lady Harcourt's companion and Lord Harcourt's man of business should have been here to take care of this but they too have been held up by the bad weather.'

  'I'd better join my mother in the dining room or she'll come looking for me. If you would care to send someone with the list, I'll do what I can with it.'

  Breakfast was sumptuous, more food than could possibly be eaten by even the fifty or so guests, but then there were the extra staff to feed as well. Nothing would be wasted and whilst they were eating well so would the servants downstairs.

  'There you are Dora, I see you've taken a little of everything as have I. Apart from the passageways the house is pleasantly warm. I notice there's a yule log waiting to be lit in the huge fireplace in the hall. I think if that were lit today and not left until Christmas Eve it would make everything more pleasant.'

  'I'll do it myself when I'm finished here. I've also offered to help the housekeeper by organising some activities for the younger people. You know how I love to take part in any sort of play-acting. I hope you don't have any objection to my becoming involved in this way.'

  Her mother pursed her lips but then nodded. 'As everybody already thinks you're the chosen bride I can hardly see it makes any difference if you reinforce that opinion by doing so. Especially as we both know as soon as the snow departs we'll be leaving here.'

  'Would it be acceptable for me to let it be known that I'm no longer interested in becoming the next countess?'

  'I think it's exactly what you should do. I can guarantee that once you've made that clear you will find the other girls friendlier and will make these next few days less fraught.'

  Chapter Seven

  Benedict, Watson, and the other three men crowded into the sledge each clutching a weapon of some sort. He had his two pistols, one in each coat pocket, the two ex-soldiers had muskets, Sydney had a cudgel but Watson intended to rely on his bulk and his fists if necessary.

  'Head for the village, that's where they'll be going,' he told the driver.

  'Yes, my lord, I reckon the track will be smooth enough for us. Even up to their hocks these two horses will get us there.'

  'It's showing no sign of thawing even though the sun's out,' Benedict said to Watson who was sitting next to him.

  'The sky's clear, blue as far as you can see, but I still think there's more snow on the way,' his companion said gloomily.

  'The temperature has to rise considerably – it's far too cold for snow at present.'

  Even with his head wrapped warmly in a muffler the exposed flesh was tingling from the cold. He was almost resigned to finding cadavers rather than live men so cold was it.

  'I suggest that we stand, gentlemen, and hang onto the sides. We'll be able to see further that way. If they came along here then we should be able to see their footsteps as it hasn't snowed since they left.'

  The sledge rocked alarmingly, almost pitching one of the ex-soldiers over the side. His comrade grabbed him and hauled him back to safety. The sunlight on the snow was all but blinding, making it difficult to look for foot prints.

  Watson grabbed his arm. 'Over there, definitely a track. In fact, my boy, I'm certain there are several sets of footprints. We're going in the correct direction.'

  Suddenly the air was rent by an unearthly howling and the hair on the back of his neck stood to attention. What in god's name was that racket?

  Then the two massive hounds galloped past, moving so speedily they scarcely sunk into the snow despite its depth.

  'Good boys,' he yelled after them.

  'They've got the scent, they'll catch them for us,' Watson said gleefully.

  'I've yet to be told their names.'

  'The slightly darker of the two is Shadow, the other is Smoke. They're fearsome beasts when angered and I don't envy the four about to get a visitation from the hounds of hell.'

  This seemed a tad overblown, but Benedict smiled his agreement. 'I don't know how they come to be here, but I'm glad that they are. It'll make our job so much easier.'

  Then in the distance they heard shouting, barking, screams of pain. The driver didn't need to be told to increase the pace. He snapped his whip above the horses' heads and they threw themselves willingly into the harness. They couldn't even trot, but they walked faster and the sledge gathered pace – but not fast enough for him.

  'Out, men, we'll progress more quickly on foot.'

  They needed no further urging and followed him eagerly over the side. 'It'll be faster walking in their footsteps as they've already flattened the snow a little.'

  They waded across and then were able to increase their pace to a jog – not exactly double time but they soon left the sledge behind. The growling and snarling, cursing and yelling was coming from just ahead. He pulled out a pistol, checked it was primed and ready to fire, and returned it to his pocket praying he wouldn't have to use it.

  They rounded the bend in the track to see one man spreadeagled in the snow and an ominous amount of gore staining the snow red. The other three were cowering against a tree trunk whilst the two hounds snapped and snarled if they moved a muscle.

  'For pity's sake, my lord, save us from these monsters. They've done for Mr Foster and will have our throats too,' one of the cornered men whined.

  'Shadow, Smoke, here, come to heel.' He snapped his fingers, and as he spoke the dogs metamorphosed into the gentle giants they'd been the last time he'd met them. His stomach lurched when he saw both had bloodstained jaws. Had they killed Foster?

  The animals did as he bid, at least they did part of what he'd asked; they both sat obediently, but neither of them came to his side but remained on guard. They really were remarkable animals.

  The sledge glided up and the three men, somewhat battered and bitten, scrambled gratefully into it. One of the ex-soldiers, he now knew his name was Jed – the other was Tom – rolled over what he feared was a corpse. Remarkably, the man still lived despite his savaging.