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‘No reason.’

      But she didn’t believe him. ‘Do you think your mother was lying?’

      ‘It wouldn’t be the first time.’ And then, seeing Laura’s pained expression, he groaned. ‘God, I don’t know. Probably not.’

      Leaving the stove, he dragged a chair from the table and, swinging it round, he straddled it across the hearth from where she was sitting. Resting one arm across the back, he regarded her consideringly. ‘What’s wrong?’

      His change of topic was unexpected and Laura’s eyes were drawn towards the window again before she could stop herself. But, thankfully, her reaction meant nothing to him, and after assuring herself that she had imagined what had happened earlier she shook her head. ‘What could be wrong?’ she countered, feeling her hair brushing against her shoulders. ‘Daddy’s dead. What do you think is wrong?’

      Oliver sighed. ‘Okay. Point taken. But you did look as if you’d seen a ghost when you came in. I wondered if anybody had said anything to upset you.’

      ‘Who?’

      Laura resented his perception, and it showed. But, dammit, she was doing her best not to reveal how she was really feeling and having him daunt her at every turn was disturbing to say the least. Despite her best efforts, she was irresistibly aware of the taut seam of his trousers visible between the spokes of the dining chair, and the bulge of his sex evident beneath the soft cloth. His thighs were spread, long-muscled and powerful, his booted feet only a few inches from the legs of her chair.

      ‘I don’t know. Someone from the village, perhaps,’ he said now. ‘So—how long is it since you saw your father?’

      Laura moistened her lips. ‘Um—about six months, I suppose. I came to London last year. There—there was a conference. Daddy came up to meet me.’

      ‘Was he okay?’

      ‘I thought so.’ Laura shifted uncomfortably. ‘Does it matter?’

      ‘I guess not.’ Oliver paused. ‘I’m sure he was pleased to see you.’

      ‘As your mother is always pleased to see you,’ retorted Laura, responding to the implied criticism. ‘Do you see much of her these days?’

      ‘When I can. Or when she wants something,’ commented Oliver drily. ‘I’ve become much more popular since she’s proved I’m good for a handout.’

      Laura stiffened. ‘Why didn’t she ask Daddy if she needed money?’

      ‘Oh—’ Oliver obviously regretted his careless words. ‘You know Ma. She’s always short of funds.’

      ‘If that’s a dig—’

      ‘It isn’t.’ Oliver seemed weary now. ‘Come on, Laura. All I’m saying is that Stella’s always been reckless with money. She’s never had enough for her own needs. I should know.’

      ‘Well, it’s why she married Daddy, if that’s what you mean,’ Laura said shortly. ‘At least she won’t have that problem now.’

      ‘Laura—’

      ‘I mean it. Daddy was very conscientious about paying insurances, that sort of thing. And then there’s this house…’ Her stomach tightened at the thought of losing Penmadoc. ‘She can sell it, if she chooses to do so.’

      ‘I wouldn’t bank on that,’ said Oliver drily before taking a gulp of his coffee, and Laura wondered what he meant.

      ‘Because she needs somewhere to live?’ she probed, but Oliver seemed to think he had said enough on that score.

      ‘Yeah,’ he said, before reverting to her earlier topic. ‘I wonder why she didn’t hear your father come in?’

      Laura’s brows lifted. ‘Do you think she was out?’

      ‘She could have been, I suppose.’ Oliver expelled an exasperated breath. ‘But if so, why didn’t she say so? After all, she’d told the old girl she was going shopping.’

      ‘There you are.’ Laura had no particular desire to dwell on the circumstances of her father’s death. ‘And don’t call Aunt Nell “the old girl”. She’s not that much older than your mother.’

      ‘True.’ Oliver conceded the point. Then, with another change of pace, he asked, ‘Have you spoken to your father’s solicitors yet?’

      ‘No.’ Laura felt a twinge of unease. ‘Have you?’

      ‘How could I?’ Oliver was gazing into the fire now. ‘I only learned about—about what happened last night.’

      ‘Hmm.’ Laura knew a sudden surge of regret. ‘It’s a pity Daddy didn’t realise your mother was at home when he got back. You never know, there might have been something she could have done.’

      Oliver nodded. ‘I thought that, too.’

      ‘Or if anyone else had been around,’ added Laura, still musing. ‘What did your mother tell you last night?’

      ‘Not a lot,’ said Oliver briefly, and Laura guessed her stepmother’s prime concern had been for herself. Was that why he’d asked if she’d spoken to her father’s solicitors? Because Stella didn’t want any obstacle to stand in the way of her getting probate?

      ‘I didn’t know she’d managed to get in touch with you,’ Laura continued when he didn’t elaborate. ‘I know she phoned your house several times yesterday but that man you live with kept telling her that you weren’t there.’

      ‘Thomas is not my partner, he works for me,’ stated Oliver, clearly irritated by her description. ‘And, as I told you last night, I’d just got back from Singapore that afternoon.’

      ‘Mmm.’ Laura refused to be intimidated. ‘Whatever. He certainly got under your mother’s skin.’ She paused, and then asked reluctantly, ‘What were you doing in Singapore, anyway? Photographing the Prime Minister or some other dignitary?’

      ‘As a matter of fact, I’ve been in Malaysia,’ replied Oliver mildly. ‘I’d been invited to join an expedition going into the Kasong Gorge. You’ve probably never heard of it, but it’s virtually inaccessible except down this narrow defile. I went with a party of naturalists who wanted me to film some of the rare plants and flowers that are found there.’

      ‘And I suppose it will give you enough material for another book,’ commented Laura offhandedly, and Oliver gave her a wry smile.

      ‘It sounds as if you’re jealous,’ he remarked, arousing her indignation. ‘Hey, how about if I give Neill and O’Roarke first refusal when the manuscript’s ready?’

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