She looked toward the sea with a thoughtful frown between her eyes. "This being the 'mending of ways' that James referred to in the fable?"

"Effectively, yes." He took his hands from his pockets to blow on them. "He's already told you they're a disappointment, so I'm not giving anything away by stressing that. Ailsa was always looking for leverage over their behavior, and changing her will was one way to exert pressure for improvement."

"Which is where the search for me came in," Nancy said without hostility. "I was another lever."

"It really wasn't as callous as that," said Mark apologetically. "It was more about finding the next generation. Both Leo and Elizabeth are childless… and that makes you the only genetic link to the future."

She turned to look at him. "I never thought about my genes until you turned up," she said with a small smile. "Now they terrify me. Do the Lockyer-Foxes ever consider anyone but themselves? Are selfishness and greed my only inheritance?"

Mark thought about what was on the tapes in the library. How much worse would she feel if she ever heard them? "You need to speak to James," he said. "I'm just the poor bloody solicitor who takes instruction, though for what it's worth I wouldn't describe either of your grandparents as selfish. I think James was very wrong to write to you-and I told him so-but he was clearly depressed when he did it. It's no excuse, but it might explain some of the apparent confusion."

She held his gaze for a moment. "His fable also suggested that Leo will kill him if he gives any of the money away. Is that true?"

"I don't know," he said honestly. "I read the damn thing for the first time yesterday and I haven't a clue what it's about. James isn't very easy to talk to at the moment, as you probably realize, so I'm not sure myself what's going on inside his head."

She didn't answer immediately, but seemed to be mulling over ideas to see if they were worth voicing. "Just for the sake of argument," she murmured then, "let's say James wrote exactly what he believes: that Leo killed his mother in anger because money was denied him and is threatening his father with a similar fate if he dares give the money away. Why did he back off involving me between his first and second letters? What changed between October and November?"

"You wrote extremely forcefully to say you didn't want his money and didn't want to confront Leo over it. Presumably he took that to heart."

"That's not the issue, though, is it?"

He looked puzzled. "Then what is?"

Nancy shrugged. "If his son is as dangerous as the fable implies, why wasn't he always worried about involving me? Ailsa had been dead several months before he sent you to look for me. He believed when he wrote his first letter that Leo had something to do with her death, but it didn't stop him writing to me."

Mark followed her logic step-by-step. "But doesn't that prove you're assuming too much from what he wrote? If James had thought he was putting you in danger, he wouldn't have asked me to go looking for you… and, if I'd had any doubts, I wouldn't have done it."

Another shrug. "So why do an about-turn in his second letter and fill it with guarantees of noninvolvement and anonymity? I was expecting a bullish reply, saying I'd got the wrong end of the stick entirely; instead I had a rather confused apology for having written in the first place." She assumed from his suddenly worried expression that she wasn't explaining herself very well. "It suggests to me that someone put the fear of God into him between the two letters," she said, "and I'm guessing it's Leo, because he's the one James seems to be afraid of."

She was studying his face and saw the guarded look that had come into his eyes. "Let's trade information on that bench over there," she said abruptly, setting off toward a seat overlooking the valley. "Was James's description of Leo accurate?"

"Very accurate," said Mark, following her. "He's a charmer until you cross him… then he's a bastard."

"Have you crossed him?"

"I took James and Ailsa as clients two years ago."

"What's wrong with that?" she asked, rounding the bench and looking at the saturated wooden slats.

"The family affairs were managed by Leo's closest friend until I arrived on the scene."

"Interesting." She nodded toward the seat. "Do you want to lend me a flap of your Dryzabone to keep my bum dry?"

"Of course." He started to undo the metal poppers. "My pleasure."

Her eyes twinkled mischievously. "Are you always this polite, Mr. Ankerton, or do clients' granddaughters get special treatment?"

He shrugged out of his Dryzabone and threw it across the seat like Sir Walter Raleigh subduing a puddle before Queen Elizabeth. "Clients' granddaughters get special treatment, Captain Smith. I never know when… or if… I'm going to inherit them."

"Then you'll freeze to death in a lost cause," she warned, "because this is one granddaughter who won't be inherited by anyone. Doesn't that make this gesture a little OTT? All I need is a triangle… if you open out the flap, you can go on wearing it."

He lowered himself onto the middle of the seat. "I'm far too frightened of you," he murmured, stretching his legs in front of him. "Where would I put my arm?"

"I wasn't planning on getting that close," she said, perching awkwardly beside him in the small gap that remained.

"It's unavoidable when you sit on a man's coat… and he's still in it."

He had deep brown eyes that were almost black, and there was too much recognition in them. "You should go on a survival course," she said cynically. "You'd soon discover that keeping warm is more important than worrying about what you're touching."

"We're not on a survival course, Captain," he said lazily. "We're sitting in full view of my client who won't be at all amused to see his solicitor put his arm round his granddaughter."

Nancy glanced behind her. "Oh, my God, you're right!" she exclaimed, surging to her feet. "He's coming toward us."

Mark leaped up and whipped around. "Where? Oh, ha-bloody-ha!" he said sarcastically. "I suppose you think that's funny."

"Hilarious," she said, sitting down again. "Were the family affairs in order?"

Mark resumed his seat, this time pointedly putting distance between himself and her. "Yes, insofar as my predecessor followed James's instructions at the time," he said. "I replaced him when James wanted to change the instructions without Leo being given advance warning."

"How did Leo react?"

He stared thoughtfully toward the horizon. "That's the million-dollar question," he answered slowly.

She eyed him curiously. "I meant, how did he react toward you?"

"Oh… wined me and dined me until he realized I wasn't going to betray his parents' confidence, then took his revenge."

"How?"

He shook his head. "Nothing important. Just personal stuff. He can be very charismatic when he wants to be. People fall for it."

His voice sounded bitter and Nancy suspected the "personal stuff' had been very important. She leaned forward to prop her elbows on her knees. For "people" read "women," and for "it" read "Leo," she thought. Women fall for Leo… One woman? Mark's woman?

"What does Leo do? Where does he live?"

For someone who hadn't wanted to know anything about her biological family, she was suddenly extremely curious about them. "He's a playboy gambler and lives in a flat in Knightsbridge that belongs to his father." He was amused by her expression of disapproval. "More accurately, he's unemployed and unemployable because he stole from the bank he used to work for, and only avoided prison and bankruptcy because his father made good the debt. It wasn't the first time, either. Ailsa had bailed him out a couple of times before because he couldn't control his gambling."