walked to the door, but Peter Baxter was quickly on his feet, grabbing her by the arms, turning her round.
"Where do you think you're going?"
"To pack my clothes and drive back to London. I have no right to be here now."
"I agree." Surprisingly, he smiled. "All the same, I'm not allowing a slip of a girl like you to drive back to London alone in the dark. You stay here tonight," he said quietly—very quietly, so quietly that she looked at him quickly. It had been an order, not a suggestion.
"Why should I?"
He smiled. "Because I say so, and. I'm a lot stronger than you." He bent one arm, pretending to flex his muscles.
She found herself laughing. "Are you threatening me?"
"Not really. Now I'll ask you politely : Please stay the night. It's go ing to be foggy and Keith Ayres would never forgive me if anything happened to you."
"Keith Ayres?" she was puzzled. "You mean the solicitor?"
"Who else?" Peter Baxter chuckled. "Don't tell me you didn't notice? He fell for you, hook, line and sinker." He laughed. "He thinks you're ... well, quite something."
"But I only met him once !" Cindy was startled. "I liked him, but . .."
"There was no 'but' about his liking for you. Although he was pleased to see me, he was equally disappointed because you wanted the castle and he knew I didn't."
"You don't !" Cindy took a step backwards and his hand fell off her arm.
"No, I've always hated it, but ..." He led her back
to the chair "Sit down and let's talk about this sanely."
She sat down. "Look, Mr. Baxter . .."
"Please call me Peter,- and you're . . .?"
"Cindy—Lucinda Preston." She leaned forward. "Mr... . I mean Peter, I just don't understand. You met me in London, I told you all about the castle and the missing son. You must have known it was Claife Castle."
"Of course I did. I'd seen the advertisement and wasn't very keen to claim the heritage. I knew it would probably cost me more than it was worth. My memories of this place are not particularly happy, but I was persuaded that it was my duty." He
sm iled ruefully. "An example of the power of a w oman being underestimated. In a way, she was right. I went there, met you and realised how much th e castle meant to you, so I decided not to make a claim but to let you have it."
"You were going to let me have it ?" Cindy stared at him in amazement. "But it's yours !"
" Then let's see it as a gift to you. At least ..." his voice suddenly changed, "it was to be a gift. I didn't realise the first thing you'd do would be to sell it. Seeing that my father left it to you because he believed you loved it . . . well, it made me change my mind about you."
"But I knew nothing about the sale. How could I sell something that wasn't mine?" Cindy twisted her hair round one hand. "Look," she leaned forward, "I only got that letter before lunch. This article was in the morning's paper. I knew nothing about it."
"That, of course, would be your story," he said.
Again his voice was cold and unfriendly. "The letter today might have been an acknowledgement of your acceptance of the offer."
She let go of her hair, shook her head and leaned back.
"You think I'm that sort of person?"
"No, I didn't think so. I don't. All the same, I gathered from Keith Ayres that you have no money of your own, only the pittance you earn—" He smiled suddenly. "I gather you're a careful saver and have your own car, but as he said, that's hardly enough to run a castle this size. I know he arranged for you to see Luke as well. I'm sure he depressed and frightened you about the money needed. It is a heavy burden to put on a teenager's shoulders. In fact, my father should have known better. Of course Ayres wanted you to sell it."
"But why ?" Cindy was bewildered. Keith Ayres had seemed so nice.
Peter Baxter chuckled. "Because he wants you in London, of course." He stood up. "Look, I fancy a drink, and I expect you can do with one. I suggest you go and have a quick wash and change into a. pretty frock
"Where do you think you're going?"
"To pack my clothes and drive back to London. I have no right to be here now."
"I agree." Surprisingly, he smiled. "All the same, I'm not allowing a slip of a girl like you to drive back to London alone in the dark. You stay here tonight," he said quietly—very quietly, so quietly that she looked at him quickly. It had been an order, not a suggestion.
"Why should I?"
He smiled. "Because I say so, and. I'm a lot stronger than you." He bent one arm, pretending to flex his muscles.
She found herself laughing. "Are you threatening me?"
"Not really. Now I'll ask you politely : Please stay the night. It's go ing to be foggy and Keith Ayres would never forgive me if anything happened to you."
"Keith Ayres?" she was puzzled. "You mean the solicitor?"
"Who else?" Peter Baxter chuckled. "Don't tell me you didn't notice? He fell for you, hook, line and sinker." He laughed. "He thinks you're ... well, quite something."
"But I only met him once !" Cindy was startled. "I liked him, but . .."
"There was no 'but' about his liking for you. Although he was pleased to see me, he was equally disappointed because you wanted the castle and he knew I didn't."
"You don't !" Cindy took a step backwards and his hand fell off her arm.
"No, I've always hated it, but ..." He led her back
to the chair "Sit down and let's talk about this sanely."
She sat down. "Look, Mr. Baxter . .."
"Please call me Peter,- and you're . . .?"
"Cindy—Lucinda Preston." She leaned forward. "Mr... . I mean Peter, I just don't understand. You met me in London, I told you all about the castle and the missing son. You must have known it was Claife Castle."
"Of course I did. I'd seen the advertisement and wasn't very keen to claim the heritage. I knew it would probably cost me more than it was worth. My memories of this place are not particularly happy, but I was persuaded that it was my duty." He
sm iled ruefully. "An example of the power of a w oman being underestimated. In a way, she was right. I went there, met you and realised how much th e castle meant to you, so I decided not to make a claim but to let you have it."
"You were going to let me have it ?" Cindy stared at him in amazement. "But it's yours !"
" Then let's see it as a gift to you. At least ..." his voice suddenly changed, "it was to be a gift. I didn't realise the first thing you'd do would be to sell it. Seeing that my father left it to you because he believed you loved it . . . well, it made me change my mind about you."
"But I knew nothing about the sale. How could I sell something that wasn't mine?" Cindy twisted her hair round one hand. "Look," she leaned forward, "I only got that letter before lunch. This article was in the morning's paper. I knew nothing about it."
"That, of course, would be your story," he said.
Again his voice was cold and unfriendly. "The letter today might have been an acknowledgement of your acceptance of the offer."
She let go of her hair, shook her head and leaned back.
"You think I'm that sort of person?"
"No, I didn't think so. I don't. All the same, I gathered from Keith Ayres that you have no money of your own, only the pittance you earn—" He smiled suddenly. "I gather you're a careful saver and have your own car, but as he said, that's hardly enough to run a castle this size. I know he arranged for you to see Luke as well. I'm sure he depressed and frightened you about the money needed. It is a heavy burden to put on a teenager's shoulders. In fact, my father should have known better. Of course Ayres wanted you to sell it."
"But why ?" Cindy was bewildered. Keith Ayres had seemed so nice.
Peter Baxter chuckled. "Because he wants you in London, of course." He stood up. "Look, I fancy a drink, and I expect you can do with one. I suggest you go and have a quick wash and change into a. pretty frock
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