Pauline Philbey was an impatient woman: always had been, always would be. She looked at the large clock on the wall. The library of Templeton Towers was a magnificent room, full of that heavy opulence so characteristic of late 19th century furnishings. The ceiling was modelled on the great hall at Hampton Court Palace; the Templar insignia draped everywhere, including a jewel encrusted skull brought back from the Holy Land along with all the other paraphernalia so obviously beloved of their owner. The numerous portraits hanging on the library walls were a curious assembly of local worthies, some of whom, at least, were related to Sir Templeton Taylor, later Lord Hartleydale. He was the last of his line: no children, at least after the death of his beloved David; and a wife who predeceased him. No wonder he had left...

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