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The cliff path wound around the east wing of Penford Hall and skirted the edge of the walled woodland before beginning a gradual descent into the valley that held the village of Penford Harbor. The prickly gorse soon gave way to bracken; the windswept rocky meadow to the still, sun-dappled shelter of the trees.

Derek had pulled off his sweater and tied its sleeves around his waist. He wore a wrinkled blue chambray workshirt underneath, and as he rolled up his shirtsleeves, Emma noticed his sinewy forearms. She wondered fleetingly how such strong hands could perform such delicate tasks—uncovering a whitewashed fresco, repairing fragile stained glass—then realized that Derek’s eyes were on her, and redirected her gaze.

“Don’t suppose you were able to make heads or tails out of the house plans,” Derek said.

“I managed to pick out a thing or two,” Emma admitted, amused but slightly nettled by Derek’s condescending tone. “The plumbing and wiring have been completely revamped. New access panels, stack vents, feeder cables, supply lines, a whole new distribution board. If the cutaways are any indication, some floors have been raised and leveled, and a new roof’s been put on.” She glanced slyly at Derek. “Have I left anything out?”

“Er,” said Derek.

“If I really struggled, I’ll bet I could even figure out why you showed the plans to me,” Emma continued, enjoying his discomfiture. “Let’s see, now. The older plans suggest that the hall was in pretty bad shape fifteen years ago. If the old duke had them made up in order to sell the place, the family’s finances must have been shaky, too. Your aside about the duchess’s emeralds seems a little ominous. Why would she hide them in the nursery unless she was afraid that her son might try to sell them? And if Grayson’s father was down to selling his own mother’s wedding jewels—” She stopped walking and turned to face Derek, who was staring at her in amazement. “How am I doing?”

“Um.” Derek blinked. “You work with computers, don’t you?”

Emma nodded. “Sometimes my firm installs them. In great big buildings. With reams of technical drawings.”

“Ah.” Derek scuffed at the ground with the toe of his workboot. “Didn’t mean to sound patronizing. Most women—”

“You’d be surprised at what most women know,” Emma said lightly. “At any rate, I do see what you’re getting at. Penford Hall underwent a major renovation five years ago. It must have cost a fortune.”

“Repairs on the roof alone would run upwards of a hundred thousand pounds,” Derek confirmed.

“A hundred thousand... ” Emma gulped. “Just for the roof? Where did Grayson get money like that?”

“Susannah asked me the same question,” said Derek. “Seemed to think I’d know.”

“You were friends,” Emma reminded him.

“Haven’t seen him for ten years,” Derek retorted. “And I never visited the hall. When I managed to make that clear to Susannah, she began asking me about Lex Rex. Went on about it until I was ready to chuck her over the nearest wall.” Derek frowned suddenly, as though a new thought had occurred to him. “She must’ve been looking for me yesterday morning, when she ...” His voice trailed off.

“Fell?” Emma suggested.

“That’s the problem, you see.” Coming to a halt, he turned to regard Emma worriedly. “A wealthy rock star drowns nearby, and Grayson’s suddenly wealthy enough to refurbish the hall. Susannah claims to see a connection ... and suddenly she’s not around to ask uncomfortable questions anymore.”

“No.” Emma shook her head. “Grayson couldn’t ... He wouldn’t...” She bit her lip, then tried again. “What I mean is, Grayson’s so ...”

“Charming? Gracious? I quite agree. But he’s also a bit of a madman, wouldn’t you say? And he knows how to sail, Emma. He’s grown up hearing tales of shipwrecks and piracy, and he told me he’d do anything to make sure the bloody lantern lit on schedule. And in order for that to happen, the duke of Penford must be in possession of Penford Hall.”

Emma opened her mouth to protest, then closed it again. After all, Mattie had told her outright that Susannah had been an unpopular figure at Penford Hall. Mild-mannered Bantry had come close to spitting on the duke’s cousin, Nanny Cole had complained of her snooping, and, however well Kate had tried to hide it, she’d been annoyed by Susannah’s needling. And Grayson ... What had he said about his cousin? She was raised by wolves, you know.

She gazed at Derek, shaken. “Do you know what you’re suggesting?”

Sighing, Derek ran a hand through his curls. “I know, and I hope it turns out to be a load of rubbish. But what if it’s not? What if Grayson was involved in Lex’s death? What if he got his hands on Lex’s money? What if Susannah’s found a way to prove it?”

Emma felt a sudden chill. When Kate had called this morning, she’d mentioned bringing Susannah back to Penford Hall as soon as she was well enough to travel. If Derek was right, if Susannah had discovered something connecting Grayson to Lex Rex’s death, the hall might not be the safest place for her to recuperate. “Tell me more about Lex Rex,” she said.

They walked slowly. Derek conscientiously moderated his long stride, and Emma was in no hurry. The path would eventually take them to the car park, and from there they would enter the village by the main—indeed the only—street. Until then, Emma had a lot of catching up to do. She listened closely while Derek told her what he knew of Charles Alexander King, more commonly known to his legion of fans as Lex Rex.

“They met in Oxford,” Derek began. “Grayson was attending lectures and Lex was holed up in a garage somewhere, working on that first, dreadful video.”

Emma searched her memory. “The black-and-white one with all the scratches?”

Derek nodded. “Eat Your Greens. In seven ear-splitting minutes, Lex managed to offend environmentalists, vegetarians, pacifists, and right-thinking people everywhere. Everyone else thought he was fantastic. Grayson must’ve thought so, too, though I’m hard-pressed to say what they had in common.”

“It wasn’t the music,” Emma objected, recalling the fine precision of the duke’s playing. “Perhaps he enjoyed the shock value. The old duke couldn’t have approved of Lex.”

Derek shrugged. “Whatever the case, the friendship didn’t last. The old duke died and Grayson came back to Penford Hall, while Lex went on to fame and fortune. Five years later, I was reading about them in the papers.”

“Wait,” Emma broke in. “Didn’t you meet Grayson at about the same time?”

“If you’re wondering whether I met Lex as well, the answer is no. I should think it would be self-evident. I was a grown man, with a ...” He faltered, recovered quickly, and went on. “With a wife and an infant son to look after. Hadn’t any time to waste hanging about garages with the likes of Lex Rex.”

A breeze rustled the leaves overhead, and a chaffinch streaked across the path. Emma watched Derek from the comer of her eye, saw his jaw muscles knot, his hands clench behind his back.

“Now, where was I?” he asked gruffly.

“Lex had gone on to fame and fortune.”

“Right.” Derek cleared his throat. “According to the newspaper accounts, Lex decided to pay his old friend a surprise visit. Treacherous things, country houses. Never know who’s going to turn up.”

“Sounds like the voice of experience,” Emma said wryly. “Do you have a country house?”

“Family does. In Wiltshire. Comes to me when the old man pegs out.”

“You don’t seem pleased by the idea,” Emma observed. “Don’t you want the family mansion?”

“Too many strings attached.” Derek’s mouth quirked in an ironic smile. “My father disapproves of my profession. I’m the son of an earl with the soul of a bricklayer. The lord of the manor is not supposed to get his hands dirty.”