Eversleigh. He was always going abroad for business reasons. It’s said that he trades in diamonds, but no one has seen the earl for well over a year and there’s a rumour in the village that his daughter has reported his disappearance to the police.’
Cruz remembered Sabrina’s curious statement— my father is incommunicado at the moment .
‘My guess is Lady Sabrina is struggling to cope with running the house and estate.’ The farmhand downed his whisky and allowed the generous stranger who was such a good listener to fill his glass again. ‘I used to do a bit of work up at the hall myself, but all the staff have been laid off, apart from old John Boyd and his wife who have been in service there for as long as anyone can remember, and some young girl who looks after the stables.’ He sighed. ‘The trouble is these old country houses are expensive to maintain. It’ll be a shame if Eversleigh is sold.’
‘There may not be anything left of it to sell,’ the barman said as he put down the phone and came over to them. ‘That was Miss Bancroft. There’s a fire up at the hall, and she phoned to ask if some of her guests can spend the night at the pub.’ As he finished speaking the loud wail of a fire engine’s siren sounded outside on the main road.
How bitterly ironic it would be if the house went up in flames before he’d had a chance to find the map of the diamond mine, Cruz thought grimly. Aware that he was over the alcohol limit to drive, he said urgently to the barman, ‘Can you call a taxi to take me to Eversleigh Hall?’
* * *
‘I’m glad to report that the fire is under control. The blaze was almost certainly caused by a smouldering cigarette dropped onto a carpet or chair,’ the fire officer explained to Sabrina. ‘I understand there was a party taking place here tonight. Perhaps one of the guests drank too much and fell asleep holding a lit cigarette.’
‘I’d asked people not to smoke in the house.’ She grimaced. ‘I can’t believe how quickly the fire spread and how much damage it has caused. It looks as though most of the top floor of the east wing and the roof have been completely destroyed.’
The fireman glanced up at the dark sky as rain began to fall. ‘I suggest you call a local building firm to come and rig up tarpaulins so that the damaged part of the house will be protected from the weather until you can see if any of the furnishings are salvageable.’ He gave her a sympathetic smile. ‘I imagine some of the paintings are originals and irreplaceable, but at least they’ll be covered by your contents insurance.’
Sabrina felt a sensation like concrete solidifying in the pit of her stomach as the fireman’s words sank in. Three months ago she’d had to cancel the contents insurance policy on Eversleigh Hall because she had been unable to afford the premium. It had been a difficult decision but there had been other more urgent bills to pay for, such as a new boiler for the central heating system that had packed up on the coldest day of the winter. Since then she had been meaning to renew the policy but unforgivably it had slipped her mind.
At least Hugo Ffaulks and his friends had been safely evacuated and had gone to stay at hotels in the village. But the fire spelled the end of her fledgling party business at Eversleigh Hall, and probably her family’s association with their ancestral home, Sabrina thought bleakly. She could not even afford to pay for tarpaulins to cover the damaged section of the house, let alone the building and restoration costs.
She heard a car door slam, and her heart crashed against her ribs when she saw Cruz striding towards her.
‘Sabrina.’ His husky accent lingered on each syllable of her name. He splashed through a puddle, uncaring that filthy black water stained his pale grey trousers. ‘Are you all right?’ he demanded, clasping her shoulders.
‘I’m fine.’ Her voice was muffled against his chest as he pulled her towards