The Master of Stonegrave Hall. Helen Dickson

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      Chapter Two

      It was dark when Laurence arrived home, having ridden with Clara Ellingham to the Grange, where she lived with his brother Nathan and his new wife Diana, Clara’s sister. Six weeks ago they had left for France on their honeymoon. They were expected back at any time.

      He crossed the hall and went into his study. After a few moments Jenkins, the butler at Stonegrave Hall, entered. He carried a salver with some correspondence that had been delivered in the master’s absence and a glass of brandy, which the master always insisted on before dinner.

      ‘Some correspondence and your brandy, sir,’ he murmured diffidently as he placed both beside him on the desk.

      Wordlessly, Laurence picked up the glass and took a drink.

      All this was executed with the precision of a minuet, for Lord Rockford was an exacting master who demanded his estate and other business affairs ran as smoothly as a well-oiled machine. There was an authoritative, brisk, no-nonsense air about him. His sharp, distinguished good looks and bearing always demanded a second look—and, indeed, with his reputation for being an astute businessman with an inbred iron toughness, he was not a man who could be ignored.

      He had always measured his own worth by how hard he worked, how many successful business transactions he could complete from the time the sun came up until it went down. His diligence was his calling card and the foundation of his fine reputation. He had built his sense of worth one step at a time.

      The servants were in awe of him, regarding him as a harsh, sometimes frighteningly unapproachable deity whom they strove desperately to please.

      Jenkins knew he’d been riding with Miss Ellingham, a young lady who had ambitions to be the mistress of Stonegrave Hall. But the master was having none of it. After being jilted at the altar some years earlier by a young woman in favour of a suitor with a loftier title, Lord Rockford had good reason to be cynical where women were concerned. However, he was still regarded as a tremendous matrimonial prize in high social circles.

      ‘How is Mrs Lewis?’ Laurence enquired without lifting his head.

      ‘The same, I believe, sir. Her daughter arrived a short while ago. She is with Mrs Lewis as we speak.’

      ‘I see.’ Laurence’s voice was without expression. ‘Have her brought to me, will you, as soon as I have eaten.’

      * * *

      Victoria sat with her mother until Mrs Hughs popped her head round the door half an hour later.

      ‘The master’s home and asking to see you. He’s down in the hall.’

      Somewhat nervous, not wishing to keep Lord Rockford waiting, Victoria went immediately. On reaching the bottom of the stairs she stopped. A man stood in front of the fire. Within the circle of firelight he looked to her to be tall and dark. There was something else she could not put a name to. It wasn’t frightening, yet it was unsettling. His dark head was slightly bent, his expression brooding as he gazed into the fire, his booted foot on the steel fender. He’d taken off his jacket, and beneath the soft lawn shirt his muscles flexed as he raised his hand and shoved it through the side of his hair.

      Power, danger and bold vitality emanated from every line of his towering physique. Thinking back to her earlier behaviour when they had met on the moor, mortified, she was contemplating fleeing back to her mother’s room, but he must have sensed her presence because he turned his head and looked directly at her. Her eyes collided with his. They were focused, intently, on her, the expression she could not fathom.

      ‘Well, well,’ he said, noting that her eyes held a gravity that matched his own. The devil in him stirred and stretched, then settled to contemplate this latest challenge. ‘So you are Victoria Lewis. I should have known, although you were not expected back just now.’

      ‘I knew my mother was ill, which is why I left the Academy at the end of the Easter term. I was deeply concerned about her. I also hoped to surprise her.’

      ‘Come and join me. I would like to take a closer look at the young woman I met earlier, who played such havoc with my companion’s temper.’

      Victoria complied, albeit hesitantly, and walked towards him, yet there was something in the impatient, yet formal tone which gave СКАЧАТЬ