“It’s a disaster, isn’t it?”
I wasn’t startled at the words in spite of the fact I was supposed to be alone. I’d heard the car approaching, the motor being switched off and the door opening, and then the tread of booted feet striding up the drive. I glanced over my shoulder.
“Vaughan.” I ran my gaze from the Tyrolean cap he wore on his head to the riding boots on his feet. Vaughan was a townie. He didn’t do any mountain climbing and he didn’t ride.
“Synclaire. It’s been a long time. I must say I wasn’t expecting to see you here.”
“Oh? Why not? This is my home.”
“Not for the past ten years.”
“Simply because I haven’t been here doesn’t mean I don’t consider Thorny Walk home.”
Vaughan curled his lip in a sneer. What was it about me that never failed to irritate the man?
“The newspapers had a field day with it, you know.” He gestured toward the structure that was the east wing. “No, you wouldn’t know, because you were three thousand miles away.”