Murder, jealousy and revenge threaten the grand English country home of Lord and Lady Thatcham
in Danger at Thatcham Hall.

DangeratThatchamHall_w9691_med***

What’s it about?
Ambitious lawyer Nelson Roberts, embittered by war, jilted by his fiancée, and trusting no one, aims to make his name solving the mysterious thefts and violence at Thatcham Hall, a country house in 19th century England.

Olivia Martin, headstrong and talented, will stop at nothing to overcome the conventions of the day, avoid a miserable fate as a governess and fulfil dreams of a musical future.

The pair stumble on a body. Is the farmhand’s death a simple accident, or something more sinister? Who attacked the livestock at the Hall and why are the villagers so reluctant to talk? Can Nelson and Olivia overcome their differences and join forces to unravel the web of evil that imperils the Hall?

***

Olivia and Nelson make a dreadful discovery…

Aghast, Olivia slid to a halt, half-lying in the stream. Water seeped into both boots, chilling skin, bone and muscle. Her woollen dress mushroomed, absorbing moisture until dampfabric outlined every curve of her body.

The stranger watched, eyes widening. Oh! He was staring at her—at her—no, Olivia could hardly even think the words. He could see her—her shape. Shame drove out the chill, reddening her chest, and heightening the dreadful humiliation. Oh, if only the earth would open and swallow her whole! She gulped, strove for words, but none came.

Wait. The stranger wasn’t watching her at all. His gaze travelled further, coming to rest beyond Olivia. He stared, the knowing smile fading, and Olivia’s insides turned to horrified pulp. What could he see? Something terrible? Slowly, heart hammering inside a tight chest, she twisted, awkward in the flow of water, to peer over one shoulder.

A brown boot, heavy and cracked with wear, wavered in the stream, barely an inch from Olivia’s fingers. She gasped. A swollen leg bulged from the battered leather, the pale stretch of waxen flesh exposed through torn brown trousers. Olivia snatched back her hand, biting the knuckles to stifle a scream. The man’s body lay on its back, head half-submerged, as the current stroked wisps of black hair across a pale cheek.

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