“I beg your pardon?” he said ominously.

“Nothing,” she said hastily. “I didn’t say anything.”

“You said ‘grating Gavin.’ I should like to know why.”

“Look, it’s just a silly name…” she floundered.

“Are you telling me that my wife calls me that?”

“Of course not…not exactly…this is…”

“Does she or doesn’t she? Or are you too stupid to know the difference?”

The color flew to her cheeks. “You’re a real charmer, aren’t you? All right, if you must know, Liz said everything you do grates on her, and I-”

“You invented the name,” he finished. “And you have the nerve to lecture me about manners.”

“You weren’t meant to know about it. How could I dream you’d ever come here?”

“I came to see my wife. She still is my wife until the divorce is finalized, which won’t be for another two weeks. Let me further make it clear that she doesn’t own Strand House, only half of it. The other half belongs to me.”

She frowned. “Only until my father buys you out, surely?”

“Buy me out?” he demanded with bitter hilarity. “Do you know what this place is worth? Of course you don’t. I know your kind-and his. Floating through life on a ‘green’ cloud, with no idea of reality. There’s no way your father could afford it, even if I were prepared to sell, which I’m not.”

“What on earth can you gain by refusing to sell?”

“That’s for me to say.”

She stood back to regard him. “Oh, I see,” she said cynically.

He knew it was unwise to continue this conversation. He didn’t owe this impertinent urchin any explanation, and freezing dignity would be his best course. But he couldn’t manage it. There was something provoking about her that drove him on. “What do you think you see?” he demanded.

“You’re going to be a dog in the manger, aren’t you? You can’t have Strand House yourself, but you can make sure Liz can’t fully enjoy it.”