He was sitting in front of the fireplace, his legs stretched out before him, a bottle of brandy at his elbow. Caroline noticed that he was still in his riding clothes. His boots were dusty and the expression on his face was of tiredness and depression.
He was staring into the fire as she entered and for the moment he did not turn his head. Caroline thought that he imagined she was but a servant come to tidy the room. After she had closed the door behind her, she stood for a moment looking at him, then she said softly,
“I would speak-with you, Vane.”
The sound of her voice seemed to galvanise him. He turned his head swiftly and rose to his feet.
“Your pardon, Caroline,” he said. “I was not expecting you.”
Caroline crossed the room to his side. She had forgotten that the hood was still
