Sarah continued to steer the conversation magisterially, inviting Meryl to talk about herself, her family background. After Ferdy’s words about bloodlines she thought she could see where this was leading, and decided to have a little fun of her own.

‘Daddy was Craddock Winters-’

‘Of oil well fame,’ Ferdy put in.

‘But nobody knows about his family,’ Meryl continued serenely. ‘He was born in a shack because that was all his daddy could afford-at least, the man we think was his daddy, but his mom was a very popular lady and-’

‘You’re overdoing it,’ Ferdy muttered.

‘Am I?’

‘Yes,’ Jarvis added, but he hid his mouth behind his hand.

Only Sarah, with no sense of irony, ploughed on. ‘That must have made your youth very difficult. Unfortunate ancestors can be so hard to live down.’

‘Oh, no,’ Meryl said, her voice becoming more theatrically twangy by the moment. ‘Because by the time I was knee-high to a grasshopper we were rich. Of course we were still common as muck, but when you’re rich nobody calls you that. Leastways, not to your face. ’Course, when they talk to their friends they can say you’re a vulgar, jumped-up little so-and-so with no breedin’ or style.’

Jarvis’s head shot up. ‘I never said-’

He drew a sharp breath as he saw the fool’s trap she’d lured him into. Meryl’s eyes were challenging, filled with laughter.

‘Would you like some more tea?’ he asked tersely.

‘Thank you, yes.’

Ferdy leaned close to Meryl’s ear. ‘Where did you get that accent?’

‘From TV,’ she informed him in her normal voice.

As breakfast was coming to an end Sarah played what should have been her master card. ‘Miss Winters, we all owe you an apology. What my brother did was disgraceful. We both feel that, don’t we, Jarvis?’

‘Disgraceful,’ Jarvis echoed.

Meryl couldn’t resist. ‘Really?’ Her voice suggested unplumbed depths of innocence. ‘Whatever did he do?’

Sarah stared, wrong-footed. ‘Why, he-you mean, you don’t know-?’

For a moment an appalling vista of explanations opened up before them all. Jarvis glanced from one woman to the other and his lips twitched, but he kept his own counsel.

‘Of course she does,’ Ferdy grinned. ‘It’s all right, sis. I’ve made my peace. Meryl’s a very forgiving lady.’

‘For your sake, I hope so.’ Sarah made a partial recovery and addressed Meryl. ‘You must be very annoyed at having wasted your time.’

‘Who says I’ve wasted it? I’ve never been in these parts before, and I’m going to have a fine time looking around.’

‘We’ve got to recover the car,’ Ferdy pointed out.

‘And then I have to explain myself to the hire company,’ Meryl said.

‘I wonder how you’ll do that,’ Jarvis murmured.

‘With great difficulty,’ she came back at him. ‘They’ll probably say something about silly women. I’ll just have to put up with it.’

She was looking directly at him, and suddenly a grin broke over his face. It was a young, hilarious grin, inviting her to share his amusement. It hinted at the man he might have been if care hadn’t bowed him down too early, and seemed mysteriously to be linked with every other aspect of Larne that was subtly creeping into her heart.

‘Well, I’m sure we’re all grateful for your forbearance,’ Sarah declared, taking charge again. ‘It can’t have made a pleasant welcome for you, but I’m afraid you fell foul of the Larne family motto-Let invaders tremble.’

‘Is that what I am?’ Meryl asked hilariously. ‘Me? In that case, perhaps I should move into a hotel.’

It was a bluff. Hell would freeze over before she left a place that was proving more interesting by the minute. She was still watching Jarvis, feeling something start to sing inside her.

He pulled himself together with an effort. ‘I hope you’ll feel able to accept my hospitality as long as you need it.’

‘Why, how nice of you to ask! And so unexpected. I do hope I’m not putting you out.’

‘Not at all,’ Jarvis assured her.

She knew he’d understood her bluff, but was too much of an English gentleman to call it. The first round to her. As she prepared to go he rose to his feet with old-world courtesy, and Meryl could have sworn she surprised a look of reluctant appreciation in his eyes.

Ferdy was a charming companion, even if she did know he had an axe to grind. He conveyed her to the shore in his little boat, powered by an outboard motor, tied it up and led her to where he’d parked his car.

Once they’d driven along the coast to Whitby, locating her own vehicle was no problem. Everyone knew of the red sports car that had appeared as the water fell, trapped between some rocks, and vanished as the water rose again. It was a simple matter to arrange for a local firm to rescue it at the next low tide.

‘In the meantime, all my clothes are down there with it,’ she sighed.

An afternoon in the local shops took care of that. To Meryl, used to having everything made for her, it came as an eye-opener how much she liked the chic, sexy garments she found in this little place.

‘I’d have had to pay ten times as much for this in New York,’ she said, parading before Ferdy in a deep red woollen dress. ‘And I love it.’

She’d meant to buy only the bare essentials until she could get back into Benedict’s care, but she came away loaded with parcels. By that time the day was advanced and she called the castle to let Hannah know she wouldn’t be there for a meal. Then Ferdy took her to dinner and they had a long talk.

Late in the evening he ferried her across the water, carried her bags to the door, kissed her cheek, and went away, whistling. Hannah met her with the news that she’d left out ‘a little snack’ in the Library.

The Library lights were off except for one standard lamp and the fire. She chose a chair by the hearth, sitting cautiously lest the fragile brocade be further damaged. It was here Jarvis found her a few minutes later, followed by his dogs. He set down a bottle of wine and two glasses on a low table, and dropped to his knees to build up the fire. In his old darned trousers, and a shirt open at the throat, he seemed to glow with the fire, a healthy, vibrant countryman who’d spent his day in the open.

When he’d finished arranging logs he remained sitting on the floor, filling the glasses with wine.

‘Did you find your car?’ he asked.

‘Yes, but it’s wedged between some rocks and it’s going to take a crane to lift it out. They’ll do it tomorrow. In the meantime I had to buy some new things. I shall be glad to get out of this suit.’

‘It must be difficult wearing the same clothes two days running,’ he agreed.

‘Oh, stop that! We did all our fighting last night. Quit treating me like an enemy you had to repel.’

Not an enemy, but a danger, he thought. The greatest danger Larne had ever faced. The next moment she did something even more threatening.

‘Look, I’m sorry,’ she said. ‘This was all my fault-well, no, part of it was Ferdy’s fault. Anyway, it wasn’t yours. I suppose it was a bit much to descend without warning and expect you to cope.’

That nettled him. ‘I can cope with whatever gets thrown at me.’

‘Really? Most people say I’m too much for anyone to cope with.’

‘You flatter yourself,’ he said ironically.

‘That’s unkind when I’ve apologised.’

He grinned reluctantly. ‘You know how to cut the ground out from under a man’s feet.’ Whatever he’d expected, it wasn’t an apology.

Meryl uncovered the snack, which turned out to be chicken and salad and trifle. The dogs promptly gave her their full attention.

‘What are their names?’

‘Rusty and Jacko. They’re pests. I don’t know why I bother to keep them.’

‘Because you’re crazy about them,’ Meryl said.

He grunted. ‘Yes, that must be it.’

Rusty had been watching her carefully. Suddenly he dived for the plate and seized the chicken piece up in his mouth before she could stop him.

‘No,’ she cried in horror, terrified of the chicken bones that could splinter and choke him. ‘Give it to me. Bad dog.’

A tug of war ensued with neither side winning. At last, with the determination of despair, Meryl thrust her fingers right into his mouth. ‘Give it to me.’ Rusty made a sound that wasn’t exactly a growl, more like a soft rumble of protest. ‘Give it to me. Ouch!’

With a huge effort she managed to retrieve the chicken and blew on her fingers where Rusty’s protest had caught them.

‘Did he bite you?’ Jarvis asked, frowning.

‘No, just a little nip, and he didn’t mean it. Didn’t even break the skin.’

‘Let me see.’ He took her slender hand between his big strong ones and studied it closely. At last he gave a grunt of satisfaction and returned it to her. ‘You’re lucky. They’re the gentlest dogs alive, but even I wouldn’t put my hand in their mouths when they’re eating.’

‘I suppose it was stupid, but I once saw a dog choke to death on splintered chicken bones, and it’s something I never want to see again.’

‘When was that?’

‘When I was a little girl. I had a spaniel called Potts that I was crazy about. Nobody ever warned me about chicken, so I fed him some and he died right there in my arms.’

‘What about your parents?’

‘My mom was dead by then.’

‘Your father?’

‘Well, Dad was kind of busy. When he did come home, we didn’t talk about Potts. In fact-’ She fell silent.

‘What?’ Jarvis asked.

‘I’ve just remembered-Dad came in one evening and went straight to his study to work. He said, “I hope that dog of your hasn’t been in here again.” But Potts had been dead for three weeks. He’d just forgotten.’

‘Maybe he didn’t know-if he was away a lot-’

‘He was home when it happened. When I cried he’d said, “Daddy’ll buy you another dog”, and I threw a terrible tantrum because there could never be another dog and he didn’t understand. Whatever it was, he thought you could always “buy another”.’