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over whether or not to open it.
    He dismissed Hiscock and retired to the study. He held the letter in front of him as if it contained something unknown and dangerous.
    â€œConstance,” he sighed.
    Constance was a pretty actress he had recently met at the Lyceum one evening after his friend Lord Dewbury had persuaded him to go backstage.
    With her huge brown eyes and a mass of red curls, the Earl had immediately been attracted to Constance. Her softly rounded figure with its promise of physical delights had been offered to him willingly.
    Constance was witty and fun without being overly educated and that appealed to the Earl.
    He ripped open the letter, smiling to himself as he recalled their last meeting and read her script quickly.
    â€œI would be so delighted if you would join me for a glass of champagne in my dressing room to celebrate the end of our long run,” it read.
    The Earl wafted the note under his nose. It smelled faintly of the kind of fragrance that ladies did not wear – it was neither lavender nor eau de Cologne , but something far heavier, French and enticing.
    He thought most affectionately of Constance with her tumbling red hair, clad only in a silk dressing gown.
    â€˜Yes, if I dine early with Mama, then I can easily escort her back home and have her tucked up in time for me to make it to the Lyceum before the curtain falls! And then champagne and maybe more with Constance – ’
    He smiled again as he thought of the delights in store for him in her arms. While his heart was utterly cold towards her, he still desired her.
    He rose to his feet with a satisfied air. An hour in the bath, a shave and a nap would set him up perfectly for the evening ahead.
    â€˜Yes,’ he told himself as he lowered his muscular frame into his bath some ten minutes later, ‘all has fallen into place in a most agreeable fashion.’
    *
    But the Earl’s good mood was not to last. After Monkhouse had assiduously shaved him and turned down the bed so that he might rest, he slept for an hour, only to be woken again abruptly.
    â€œYes?” he grunted grumpily.
    â€œI am very sorry to disturb you, my Lord, but her Ladyship wishes to see you in the study at once.”
    â€œTell her I’m asleep, dammit!”
    â€œI apologise, my Lord, but she was most insistent.”
    He now climbed reluctantly out of bed and walked to the clothes stand.
    â€˜I wonder what Mama wants that is so urgent!’ he muttered to himself.
    Silently he allowed Monkhouse to dress him and at last he proceeded downstairs.
    The door to the study was ajar and taking a deep breath, he pushed it open trying to quell the irritation rising within him.
    â€œAh, there you are, Robert,” his mother now called, looking up from the desk.
    She had open in front of her a large ledger he had never seen before. A pile of papers from the estate sat next to it, scattered in an untidy heap.
    â€œWhat is it that is so urgent that I am woken from my nap?” he asked in an irritated voice.
    â€œDarling, I am sorry to disturb you so, but I have just read a letter from Alec that has worried me terribly. In it he says that the estate is in dire need of repairs and renovation, but that he does not have the funds.
    â€œI cannot understand where all the money is going! Your father was a very wealthy man and the estate always ran itself during his lifetime. Darling, would you be a dear and look over these with me?”
    The Earl frowned as she gazed at him pleadingly and reflected how quickly his good mood could sour.
    He sighed deeply before joining her at the desk.
    Even he could see that the columns of figures were not balancing. For the past month the outgoings were far exceeding any incomings and household expenses seemed to have increased alarmingly.
    â€œIt can only mean one thing. Someone at the Hall is pilfering,” he said decisively, snapping shut the ledger. “It is quite clear that without