The seventh book in the Bastion Club series, 2007

Early July 1816

Crowhurst Castle, Cornwall

“How the devil did they break the mill?” Gervase Tregarth, 6th Earl of Crowhurst, paced before the hearth in the elegant drawing room of Crowhurst Castle. The exasperation of a man driven to the limits of frustration colored his face, tone and every long-legged stride. “And am I to surmise that they were also behind all the rest? The broken fences, the damaged boats, the mix-up with the grain, the unexplained ringing of the church bells at midnight?”

Swinging around, he pinned his stepmother, Sybil, with a sharply interrogatory, hard hazel gaze.

Seated on the chaise, a silk shawl about her shoulders, Sybil returned his stare with a blank look, as if she hadn’t fully comprehended his meaning.

Gervase knew better. Sybil was wondering how to answer. She knew he was one step away from losing his temper, and would much rather he didn’t. He narrowed his eyes even further. “They were, weren’t they? Of course they were.”

His voice had lowered to a growl; the past months of futile traveling to London only to be summoned back within a few days to deal with some inexplicable calamity flashed across his mind-and frayed the reins of his temper even more. “What in all creation do they think they’re about?”

He wasn’t shouting, but the force behind his words was enough to overset a more robust female than Sybil; he drew in a breath and tamped down his welling fury. The “they” he and she were discussing were her daughters-his three half sisters-currently featuring as the bane of his life.