Um…that meant what exactly?

That meant he was being dumb.

Cut it out, he told himself crossly. You have hours of house calls. Move on.

‘OK,’ he agreed. ‘You didn’t neglect Angus. You didn’t know about Angus. I’ll accept that.’

‘That’s noble of you,’ she snapped. She glanced behind to the car, but the woman in the passenger seat didn’t appear to be moving. ‘Angus really does need help?’ she asked. ‘Medical help?’

‘He really does. Personal as well as medical. Urgently.’

‘We’ll stay, then,’ she told him, and it was his turn to be taken aback.

‘Just like that. You don’t need to consult your sister?’

‘Susie’s past making decisions.’

He frowned. ‘You said she’s ill. What’s wrong with her?’

‘She’s not so ill that she can’t stay here the night. I assume there’s bedding.’

‘There are fourteen bedrooms. Deidre-Angus’s wife-was always social. No one’s been in them for years but once a month the housekeeper airs them, just in case.’

She was only listening to what was important. ‘So there’s room to stay. The bedrooms are on the ground floor?’

‘Some of them are, but-’

She wasn’t listening to buts. She was moving on. ‘Where’s the housekeeper?’

‘She doesn’t live in. She comes in three times a week from Dolphin Bay.’

‘He really is alone.’

‘I told you.’

‘And I heard,’ she snapped. ‘Fine. Go and tell him we’re coming.’

‘Who did you say you were?’

‘I’m Kirsty McMahon.’ She drew herself up to her full five feet four inches and rose on her toes so a bit more was added. ‘Dr Kirsten McMahon. My sister, Susan, was married to Rory, His Lordship’s nephew.’

‘The Rory who was killed.’ He hesitated. ‘I remember. Kenneth-another of Angus’s nephews-told Angus some months ago that his brother had been killed in the States. I’m sorry. But-’