“What’s going to happen to Thorny Walk?” Roddy asked as he brought his mare to a halt near the ancient oak tree. She and the mare Tommy was riding had been bred a month earlier, and in ten months they’d have two foals to add to their growing herd.
“Apparently each baronet has a codicil in his will that provides for cases like this.”
“With one of the heirs being bitten by a werewolf?”
“Don’t be an arse. If the heir is incapacitated. Sir John’s solicitors will see the property is taken care of.”
“And if there is no heir?”
“If there were no Synclaires left in the Kent line, it would go to the Welsh Synclaires.”
“I see.”
“Why do you ask?”
“I thought if it came up for sale, you might want to buy it, since it’s so close to Greenbriers—”
“Good God, no! That house has too many unhappy mem
