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soon.’
    ‘There’s a chap in Wimbledon that owes me money,’ Benedict said.
    Dame Pamela’s eyes widened. ‘I expect a lot of people owe you money,’ she said.
    ‘You’re damned right, sis,’ he said, reaching for the brandy bottle which Higgins had left within arm’s reach of Benedict. Dame Pamela frowned in disapproval.
    They chatted away for half an hour or so, the fire crackling and the clock ticking above the mantelpiece. Finally, believing that it would be most unseemly to yawn in front of her guests, Dame Pamela stood up.
    ‘Well, I think it’s time to call it a night,’ she said. ‘Higgins will see you to your rooms. Good night.’ She kissed them both and left them in the capable hands of her butler before returning to her bedroom.
    As she climbed back into bed, Dame Pamela thought what a great relief it was that Gemma had arrived but she was still concerned about her brother and guessed that only time would tell the truth about his reason for visiting Purley Hall.
     

Chapter 6
    A white world greeted the guests the next morning. Mia Castle was one of the first out of bed and whipped the curtains back, blinding her poor sister.
    ‘Sarah!’ she cried. ‘Come and see!’
    Sarah sat up in bed and blinked in the bright white light that flooded the bedroom.
    ‘Come on! ’ Mia pleaded as if all the snow might suddenly melt away.
    Sarah brushed her hair out of her face and placed her feet into her slippers – first the left and then the right, careful not to touch the carpet – and joined her sister at the window.
    ‘Oh!’ she said as she saw the sight that greeted her. Their bedroom was at the back of the house overlooking the garden and the landscape beyond and everything had turned white. It was the softest, sparkliest, dreamiest of worlds. The ground was covered in at least six inches of snow and all the trees were wearing white garments. The garden obelisks had turned from hard stone to soft wool and the lake had disappeared completely.
    Mia opened the sash window and leaned out. ‘Listen. Isn’t it quiet? I love that about snow. It seems to absorb all sound.’
    Sarah nodded and then shivered. ‘We’d better get ready for breakfast,’ she said, moving away from the window.
    Mia closed it with a sigh. ‘It’s going to be a white Christmas,’ she said with a laugh. ‘Sarah?’
    ‘Yes?’
    ‘Are you okay?’
    Sarah turned around to look at Mia. ‘Of course,’ she said.
    ‘You seem quiet.’
    ‘Next to you, everyone’s quiet,’ Sarah said with a little smile.
    ‘I know but you’re even quieter than usual.’ Concern was etched across Mia’s face. ‘Everything okay?’
    ‘Yes,’ Sarah said but Mia could see that she was hiding something. She was the world’s worst liar.
    ‘Sure?’
    ‘Yes,’ Sarah said. ‘Now, let’s get ready for breakfast.’
    Half an hour later, the sisters walked down the grand staircase and entered the dining room for breakfast. A side table had been set out with glasses, cups and plates, and guests were helping themselves to fruit juice, cereal, toast and croissants before ordering cooked breakfasts.
    ‘Who’s that man?’ Mia asked.
    Sarah looked up from where she was choosing a glass which didn’t have any smears on it. ‘The one by the window?’
    Mia nodded. The man was in his late forties and was tall and thin with dark hair and a moustache that might have looked sexy on Errol Flynn but which looked horribly suspicious hovering on his face.
    ‘I’ve no idea,’ Sarah said.
    ‘I’ve not noticed him before but he kind of stands out, doesn’t he?’
    They took their breakfast over to the table and sat down just as the man turned around from the window.
    ‘Good morning,’ he said with a tight smile as he sat down next to Mia. ‘I’m Jackson Moore.’
    ‘I’m Mia and this is my sister, Sarah,’ Mia said.
    He nodded and stroked his strange moustache with his long, tapering fingers. ‘And you’re both Austen fans, are you?’
    Mia