Harper was clearing a table as Pip nudged her and nodded towards a newcomer at the tearoom doorway. With a leather satchel slung over his shoulder, pen and notebook in hand, he looked suspiciously like another reporter.

‘I think it’s your turn,’ Harper said.

‘Really? But I’m crap; I say all the wrong things.’

‘Right now I’m willing to take the risk. I’m absolutely fed up of going over it with these people.’

‘It can’t be helped. I can see why everyone is curious.’

‘I know it can’t be helped, but I wish it would hurry up and blow over.’

‘It will, soon enough. You know what they say about today’s news being tomorrow’s fish-and-chip wrapping.’

‘I could cope if I thought it was going to be old news as soon as tomorrow. The way this is hitting the news, anyone would think we’d found the crown jewels in our garden.’

By the time she’d come to the end of her sentence, the man was at their table. He looked around uncertainly and then lowered his voice. Harper glanced briefly at Pip, who had a look in her eye that was something like amusement.

‘One of you is the proprietor, I presume,’ he said, looking from one to the other.

‘Harper,’ Pip said, nodding at her friend.

The man turned to Harper. ‘Ah. Then might I trouble you for a few moments of your time, Miss…?’

‘Woods. We’re quite busy—’ Harper began, but he cut her off.

‘You have only three customers.’

Pip frowned. ‘This is the first time today we’ve had an empty table, so while it might not look busy, there’s a lot of cleaning and catching up to do while we have a spare minute.’

‘No offence was intended,’ he said, backtracking quickly. ‘I only meant that you appear to be quiet.’

‘Well, we don’t know your business and you don’t know ours. We wouldn’t tell you how to write a story and you shouldn’t tell us whether our café is quiet or not,’ Pip retorted.

The man’s forehead creased. ‘A story? I don’t quite follow…’

‘You’re not a reporter?’ Harper asked.

‘My name is William Frampton; I’m—’

‘William Frampton of Silver Hill House?’ Pip interrupted. ‘Lord Frampton? To what do we owe the honour of you walking amongst the poor this fine summer’s day?’

Harper shot Pip a warning glance. While the owner of Silver Hill House wasn’t exactly active in his community, she was certain he had his own reasons for that. The fact was, he rarely came to the neighbouring village at all, and had certainly never come down into the valley to visit the farm during her year there. But she wasn’t about to chastise him for it, though Pip seemed to find it all hilarious, which was making Harper feel nothing but awkward. To come and see them, it must be a pressing matter and she wanted to hear him out.

‘I could do this the civil way,’ he replied, eyeing Pip coldly, ‘or I could involve solicitors – infinitely more expensive and unpleasant for us both. I came here in the hope that we could discuss this business like adults and stay friends once it had been resolved.’

Pip’s lazy grin became a look of alarm. She exchanged an uneasy glance with Harper.

‘What business?’ Harper asked.

‘The matter of my family’s belongings.’

‘I don’t understand,’ Harper replied, but even as she said it, the pieces began to slot into place.

‘I believe the gold found on your land actually belongs to the Frampton family. It was stolen, and I would like it back.’

‘We didn’t steal it!’ Pip said, and Harper laid a hand on her arm. She shrank back and glowered at Frampton.

‘Would you like a tea? Coffee perhaps?’ Harper gestured to a table near the counter. ‘If you take a seat, we can talk about this. You’re right – there’s no reason we can’t be civil.’

Frampton nodded shortly. ‘I was hoping that would be the case.’ But while he had a tight smile for Harper, his glance at Pip was rather colder as they made their way to the table.

Sensing that leaving Pip and Lord Frampton together while she went to make hot drinks might end in disaster, Harper turned to her friend. She wasn’t one for delegating tasks, and sometimes Pip took offence at being asked to do things either of them could easily do, but she seemed to understand Harper’s train of thought when she asked if her friend could do it. Without a word, Pip went off to make three little pots of tea, also managing to get waylaid by a customer as she worked behind the counter. Harper didn’t want to get straight to business without Pip, whose opinion she valued, so she opened with something unconnected while they waited.

‘It’s, erm, good to see you… I mean, down here… We don’t see you much.’

‘I don’t believe I’ve ever set foot in your delightful tearoom before,’ he said.

‘No, well, that’s what I meant. We don’t see you at all. But in the village…’

‘You have my brother to thank for that.’

Harper paused, thrown momentarily by his strange reply. His brother? True, she hadn’t been at Silver Hill Farm all that long but nobody had ever mentioned Lord Frampton’s brother to her before. But it didn’t seem like a subject she ought to be pursuing so she let it go, despite curiosity gnawing at her to ask.

‘Well, it’s nice to finally meet you.’

‘That’s very kind, but there’s no need for empty platitudes. You are busy and I have come to take something that you had thought was yours. I doubt that makes our meeting a welcome experience for you.’

She was about to hit back, but there was something in his manner that stopped her. Behind the cutting sarcasm and abrasive honesty, there was a vulnerability, and she could see it in his eyes as they raked the room, taking in every little detail. If she hadn’t known better, hadn’t known that he inhabited the grand stately home over the hill, she might have mistaken it for envy. But surely Lord Frampton of Silver Hill House wasn’t jealous of her little farm?

‘I never expected to keep the gold,’ she said.

He turned his gaze back to her and for the first time seemed genuinely engaged. He studied her, as if meeting her all over again for the first time.

‘What did you expect?’ he asked finally.

‘I expected it to be claimed by its rightful owner, or to pass it on to the government. In fact, I didn’t want it at all.’

‘So, you’re not pursuing a claim for a share?’

‘I don’t know,’ she said, shooting a glance at Pip, who was still held up with her customer. ‘I don’t know how these things work, so we were waiting to be guided by the Finds department at Salisbury.’

‘Francesca Logan?’ he asked.

It was Harper’s turn to look surprised. ‘Do you know her?’

‘We have met, yes.’

‘Francesca told us she wanted to do some investigating and then she has to write a report for the coroner’s office before any decision is made on the find. But she did suggest that it would likely go to a museum.’

‘I can only assume that was before we’d met to discuss the matter of my ownership rights.’

Harper shot a glance at Pip again, who returned it with a helpless look that said she was trying to wind things up as fast as she could, though it looked like the customer was too fond of chatting for that to happen soon. Much as she wanted to wait, perhaps Harper would have to deal with this herself.

‘You said your family owned the things in the box. What happened? How did it come to be lost?’

‘It was stolen by a servant.’

Harper’s eyes widened. ‘A servant?’

He inclined his head.

‘What happened?’

‘That is unclear. The man disappeared shortly after the theft and was never seen in these parts again. It was assumed he’d run to a different part of the country – perhaps even left it entirely. Although, in those days that would have proven difficult for someone of his status – with or without the gold.’

Harper mused on this new information. It was a story straight out of a historical novel, the disappearance of the servant intriguing enough without the question of how he stole the gold and how it ended up in her back garden.

‘A widow used to live here, at this farm,’ Frampton added.

Harper frowned.

‘The servant was a young widower himself and was believed to be courting her,’ he clarified. ‘A lot of the facts of the crime have been lost over time, and we don’t know much about the widow, or what her connection to the robbery might be – if, indeed, she was connected at all. But it’s telling that the jewellery was found on your land.’

Harper was about to ask another question – she had so many they were tripping over themselves to be first – but she noticed that Frampton was looking over her shoulder, and she turned to see that Shay was standing over her. She smiled up at him, about to introduce Frampton, but Shay’s next words told her there was no need.

‘What are you doing here?’ he asked.

Harper’s mouth fell open. ‘Shay!’ she began, but Lord Frampton merely gave a bleak smile.

‘I do so love the welcome I get from the village of the damned,’ he said. ‘Tell me, has everyone succumbed to the zombie virus yet, or are you the product of some miraculous rehabilitation programme?’

Now Harper looked at Frampton incredulously. She couldn’t work this man out; he was either pathologically antagonistic or supremely stupid. Possibly both. If he knew Shay, then he knew that her fiancé was not a man to take insults lying down.

‘Get out,’ Shay said, the sound of his teeth grinding behind her.

But Frampton merely gestured to her. ‘I do believe that the proprietor of the tearoom is the only person who has the authority to eject me from the premises.’

‘Get out!’ Shay repeated.

There was a moment where the men simply stared at each other, and Harper was certain that one of them was going to throw a punch. But it passed, and Frampton stood up.

‘I had hoped to settle this amicably, and I do believe Miss Woods had the good sense to see that would be in everyone’s best interests. But while I applaud your diplomacy, Miss Woods, I lament your choice of boyfriend. I had high hopes that two intelligent people could talk this situation through, but your pet blockhead here seems to have other ideas.’

Shay made a move towards him and Harper leapt up to get between them.

‘Not here!’ she pleaded, lowering her voice as she cast an anxious glance around the room, hoping nobody had noticed the altercation that was simmering so dangerously. Shay had never mentioned knowing the owner of Silver Hill House before, though there were clearly tensions that ran deep. And from what Frampton himself had said, it wasn’t just Shay but the whole village. Was this something to do with the mysterious brother he’d spoken of?

‘Not anywhere, I should hope,’ Frampton said smoothly. ‘It wouldn’t go well for you if I had to add assault to the list of complaints I’ll be bringing against you.’

‘Complaints?’ Harper repeated. ‘How can you bring a complaint against us for anything? We’ve done nothing wrong!’

‘I’m truly sorry, Miss Woods,’ he said. ‘You seem a decent sort and I hate to make life difficult for you but, you see, I must reclaim what is rightfully mine, and as I have no friends in the first place, I will hardly lose any by doing whatever is necessary to achieve that end.’

‘Just one punch,’ Shay growled, not taking his eyes off Frampton for a second. ‘Let me have one shot and I’ll be happy.’

‘Stop it!’ Harper said, finding herself inexplicably vexed by Shay’s response to Frampton’s goading. ‘This is our livelihood we’re talking about here. For God’s sake calm down and grow up.’

‘My sentiments exactly,’ Frampton said, and if Harper hadn’t been hanging onto Shay’s arm there was no doubt in her mind he would have knocked Frampton out. But instead she felt the muscles and tendons tense and flex, and she increased her grip.

‘Please,’ she said. She looked at Frampton. ‘You really should go now.’

He looked as if he might say something else. The prospect of taunting Shay was clearly tempting, and it almost appeared as if he was enjoying provoking a reaction. But then he simply dipped his head, a wry half-smile about his lips.

‘Thank you for your time, Miss Woods. Please pass my apologies to your colleague for my hasty departure. I do hope to bump into you both again in more pleasant circumstances.’

Shay’s breathing was so hard he sounded like a bull ready for the charge. But Frampton seemed unperturbed. With that sardonic smile, he turned on his heel and left.

Shay swung to look at Harper. ‘What did you tell him?’

‘Nothing,’ she said, feeling increasingly confused by his reaction.

‘Then what did he want?’

‘He said the gold was his.’

‘The lying bastard.’

‘He had a good reason to think so.’

‘Did he now?’ Shay’s jaw tightened.

‘You clearly don’t think so.’

‘I don’t care how good his reason is; he’s not getting his hands on it. Nobody in that dysfunctional disaster of a family deserves anything.’

Harper’s hands went to her hips and she looked him up and down. ‘What’s with you two?’

‘I don’t know what you mean.’

‘Yes, you do. The way you were with him… that’s more than just the fact that he doesn’t mix with the villagers. There’s history there – has to be.’

‘I don’t trust him.’

‘That’s it?’

‘Does there have to be more?’

‘It was a bit of an extreme reaction, chucking him out just because you don’t trust him.’

‘I had an idea why he was here, and I was right, wasn’t I?’

‘You knew he’d come after the stuff we’d found? So you must have known the story of it being stolen from his ancestor?’

‘No, I didn’t know that. I do know his family are shifty. How do you think they’ve managed to keep hold of that pile over the hill all these hundreds of years? They certainly don’t put in overtime at the canning factory.’

‘So you think they’re all criminals?’ Harper shook her head. ‘Doesn’t seem plausible.’

‘Criminal activity can take many forms – you only need to look at politics to know that.’

Harper was thoughtful. ‘I knew whatever was inside that box would be trouble,’ she said after a pause.

‘We found it, not him. We’re entitled to the share when it’s sorted.’

From the corner of her eye, Harper saw that Pip had finished with her customer and was heading over to join them.

‘What happened?’ she asked. ‘I saw him leave just now – what did he say?’

‘He has a claim to our find,’ Harper said.

‘Says he does,’ Shay corrected her. ‘But don’t trust a thing that comes from the mouth of a Frampton.’

‘What did he mean when he mentioned his brother?’ Harper asked.

‘In prison,’ Shay said, rubbing his nose. ‘Which is a shame because, weirdly, he was always the more likeable of the two; used to come down to the pub every once in a while and have a drink. But he got greedy, just like the rest of them, and he got caught embezzling from the bank he was working for.’

‘I thought you said they didn’t work.’

‘Younger brother had to – he wasn’t in line to inherit the estate like Lord William. Big brother just runs the house now and collects a bit of ground rent, keeps himself to himself.’

Harper listened vaguely as Shay filled Pip in on what she’d missed, but she couldn’t shake the feeling that she’d missed something herself. Shay didn’t like William Frampton – that much was obvious. What was less obvious was the reason why. Shay had said that he didn’t trust the family; that they were aloof and isolated – but that still didn’t explain why he’d blown his top at the sight of him sitting in the tearoom. Whatever the reason, what was more perplexing still was that Shay clearly didn’t feel able to share it with her. She’d always thought they knew each other inside out, that they could tell each other anything. But for the first time in their year-long relationship, she had to face a question – one that terrified her. She’d promised her life to this man, but could she trust him?