She had been so happy, she had had to keep pinching herself. For as long as she could remember she had dreamed of Rupert, and now he was hers-or he had been. It was only three days since the ball, and he was in a vicious temper, which he’d taken out on her. It was all spoilt now.

And it was all Jake Trevelyan’s fault.

‘He’s going to bring assault charges against you,’ she told Jake, hoping to shock him, but he only looked contemptuous.

‘So Sir Ian has just been telling me.’

Cassie had never understood why Sir Ian had so much time for a thug like Jake, especially now that he had beaten up his own nephew!

The Trevelyans were notorious in Portrevick for their shady dealings, and the only member of the family who had ever appeared to hold down a job at all was Jake’s mother, who had cleaned for Sir Ian until her untimely death a couple of years ago. Jake himself had long had a reputation as a troublemaker. He was four years older than Cassie, and she couldn’t remember a time when his dark, surly presence hadn’t made him the kind of boy you crossed the road to avoid.

It was a pity she hadn’t remembered that at the Allantide Ball.

Now Cassie glared at him, astonished by her own bravery. ‘But then, I suppose the thought of prison wouldn’t bother you,’ she said. ‘It’s something of a family tradition, isn’t it?’

Something unpleasant flared in Jake’s eyes, and she took an involuntary step backwards, wondering a little too late whether she might have gone too far. There was a suppressed anger about him that should have warned her not to provoke him. She wouldn’t put it past him to take out all that simmering resentment on her the way he so clearly had on Rupert, but in the end he only looked at her with dislike.

‘What do you want, Miss Not-So-Goody Two Shoes?’

Cassie took a deep breath. ‘I want to know why you hit Rupert.’

‘Why does it matter?’

‘Rupert said it was over me.’ She bit her lip. ‘He wouldn’t tell me exactly what.’