CHAPTER TWOFor the last stretch of the journey over the Milton estate, the sun had vanished behind dark clouds, casting a gloomy shadow over the land, in keeping with the Earl’s mood.
When at last the carriage drew up outside the great house, John, the Earl Milton, climbed out and walked straight through the door that a footman was holding open for him. He strode through the hall and down the passage to his smoking room. Anyone, looking at his face, would have known that he was angry.
He walked to the window to stare almost blindly at the flowers which were growing in the garden beneath him.
“Two years,” he muttered bitterly. “Two years of working to bring this place back to its glory, only to be told that I am almost penniless. All right, I spent more than I intended, but the result is
