A crumbling manor house by the sea. A taciturn, enigmatic earl. Things that go bump in the night. What could be more diverting? North Devon, 1889 Forced to flee London ahead of a scandal that won't die, Julian Clere's hopes of a winter idyll on the continent are severely hampered by a decided lack of funds. Yet, instead of taking pity on him, his aunt, Lady Viola, decides it's high time Julian made himself useful to the family by sending him to the aid of a struggling, newly-ennobled distant relation. Christmas in a country house at the seaside shouldn't be too terrible, should it? Even if he might have to work for his supper. Except Moorcliffe Hall is barely fit for habitation. The locals refuse to go anywhere near the place after dark. His erstwhile host, Lord Hugh Bingham, Earl of Excombe, hasn't spoken more than two civil words to him since his arrival. And Julian has the strangest feeling something in the house doesn't want him there. Why are ghosts and handsome, brooding earl's so much more romantic in the stories? Julian only wants to prove he's more than just a pretty face with excellent taste in clothing. But when Hugh finally allows Julian within his walls, other wants and desires he'd thought dead and long-buried resurface. Hugh and Moorcliffe Hall could be the keys to a new life and everything he'd ever yearned for... if the manor and its secrets don't kill him first.