But he knew he was fooling himself. The thought of that deception coming into the open filled him with a dreadful revulsion. It was a despicable secret that he must live with to his dying day… so long as Crighton had let nothing slip, nothing to provoke Theo's needle wit.

His expression schooled to a calm neutrality, he walked into the hall just as Theo and the lawyer came in from the bright sunshine.

"Oh, Sylvester," Theo greeted him, blinking and bedazzled in what seemed like darkness after the brilliance outside. "Lawyer Crighton has come from London for his quarterly business visit. I forgot to mention to you this morning that he always comes on the fifteenth." Sylvester might be affronted at her negligence, but at least the fib spared the lawyer's feelings.

"Just so, my lord," the lawyer said, advancing, hand outstretched. "I have several other prominent landowners in the area whose affairs I'm honored to be entrusted with, so I do the rounds." He gave a hearty laugh at this, but there was a touch of uncertainty to it. He was remembering that the fifth Earl of Stoneridge was inclined to be even more irascible and impatient than his predecessor.

"Indeed," Sylvester said coolly, taking the offered hand in a brief clasp. "Then pray come into my book room, and we'll get on with it." He glanced at Theo, standing in the shadows. He could detect nothing untoward in her manner or her posture. It would seem that the lawyer had let nothing slip to arouse her curiosity, and a smile of relief softened the harshness of his features.

"Theo, perhaps you'd ask Foster to bring some refreshment to the book room," he suggested, turning aside to usher the lawyer in the required direction.

"He'll do so of his own accord," Theo said cheerfully, following them.

He realized abruptly and with a sinking heart that she expected to take part in this business discussion. Presumably she'd always done so in her grandfather's day and couldn't see why anything should be different now.

At the door he let the lawyer walk past him into the room; then he drew the door half-closed and said quietly, "I don't know how long this will take, Theo, but perhaps later we could go duck hunting on Webster's Pond."

Theo blinked, frowning, for a moment not understanding what he was saying; but then he opened the door farther and stepped backward.

"Just a minute," Theo said as he began to pull the door closed. "I'm coming in too."

He sighed and said as quietly as before, "No, Theo, I'm afraid you're not. I prefer to conduct my business affairs alone. I always have done, and I see no reason to change the habits of a lifetime."

"Well, neither do I," she said in a fierce undertone. "For the last three years I have always taken part in Crighton's discussions with my grandfather – that's my habit and I'm not changing it."

Her pointed chin jutted at him, the wide, generous mouth set in a taut line, every inch of her slender frame bristling with anger and determination.

"In this instance I'm afraid you must," he said, curtly now, anxious not to prolong this any further. The lawyer must be wondering about the whispered colloquy. Firmly, he stepped back and closed the door in her face.

Theo stared in disbelief at the heavy oak timbers. Her hand lifted of its own accord to raise the latch, but some voice of caution stopped her in time. She couldn't cause a scene in front of the lawyer, and she knew that if she barged into the room, there would be one. Sylvester wouldn't yield simply because she put him in an embarrassing situation.

Seething, she swung on her heel just as Foster appeared with a tray of decanters and glasses. Three glasses – it wouldn't occur to him that Lady Theo would be banned from the book room.

Flushing with anger and mortification, she stalked outside into the sunlight. What was going on? What outstanding matters did the lawyer have to discuss with the earl? Was there something she wasn't to know about?

Theo was not suspicious by nature, but she had a logical mind, and she could see no logical reason for Sylvester to ban her from the discussions. She took part when they talked with the bailiff and the estate agent; why should the lawyer's affairs be any different?

Without making a conscious decision she went back into the house, her steps taking her into the library.

The earl's book room was a small corner office adjoining the library at the side of the house. Sometime long ago in the history of the manor, presumably during one of the many religious and political persecutions that had raged across the country, a Belmont had blocked the inglenook in the library fireplace, creating a small but adequate hiding place that abutted the book-room fireplace.

Theo had discovered it as a child when playing hide-and-seek with her sisters and Edward one Christmas Eve. She'd never expected to put it to such good use.

She pressed the catch in the granite slab inside the vast empty fireplace, and the stone swung creakily inward. It was dark and musty, the air smelling thickly of soot and wood smoke. It was an insane thing for the Countess of Stoneridge to be doing, she thought, but it didn't prevent her from slipping into the cramped cavity. She was going to come out black as a sweep.

She left the slab a little ajar, seeing no reason to enclose herself in blackness. It was her house and she wasn't doing anything illegal – merely somewhat disreputable.

Lawyer Crighton's voice came clearly through the stone, pedantic and ponderous, joined by Sylvester's deep tones full of impatience at the lawyerly long-winded precision.

They were talking about the will.

"Now that you've satisfied the late earl's conditions, my lord, I have pleasure in handing over to you the documents relating to the estate," Crighton said.

Conditions? What the devil was he talking about?

"I now have title, free and clear, to the entire estate?"

"As of your wedding day, my lord."

Cold crept up Theo's spine. A graveyard coldness. She pressed closer to the stone.

"The late Lord Stoneridge's private fortune passes into your hands since you've complied with his condition, but under the terms of the will, you must set up trust funds for the three remaining Belmont girls."

"It's understood."

"I have the papers here, my lord. If you'd sign each one… on the line at the bottom. Thank you… and I'll witness your signature."

"The estate is to provide them each with a dowry of twenty thousand pounds." Stoneridge's voice was reflective, as if he was reading the fine print. "A generous dowry."

"Indeed, my lord, but one easily afforded by an estate as wealthy as Stoneridge." The lawyer sounded a little bristly.

"Quite so," the earl responded in his level tones. "With such a dowry Clarissa should have no difficulty finding a husband. And I daresay Edward Fairfax will welcome Emily with even more enthusiasm. They're personable girls… Even young Rosie behind those spectacles hides a certain charm." There was a hint of laughter in his voice as he said this.

Theo was feeling sick, her hands tightly clenched, the nails biting into her palms. She wasn't sure she understood what she was hearing, and yet she knew she did.

"Now, for Lady Stoneridge's jointure," the lawyer was continuing. He cleared his throat in his irritating fashion, and Theo could imagine his glancing around the room in search of inspiration. "Perhaps her ladyship should be a party to this aspect of the discussion, my lord?" It was a diffident suggestion.

"There's not the slightest need for her ladyship's participation," Stoneridge declared curtly. "Anything she needs to know, I will explain to her myself."

Theo was submerged in a deadly rage. Still, she couldn't put words to what she suspected – it seemed impossible.

As of your wedding day. Free and clear title to the estate, as of your wedding day.